Source: FOOTYMAD
Liverpool 1 Sunderland 1 - Match Report
New owners, new players, new manager, new hope. Same expectations, same deflation, same Liverpool. Kenny Dalglish's return may have been granted Anfield its longed-for messiah, Fenway Sports Group may have invested the riches of Croesus, but few clubs can be as mired in bathos as Liverpool. Every season, the occupant of the manager's chair, the big man in the Boot Room, issues a plea to fans more desperate for success than any other to manage their expectations, to recall that renaissance does not happen overnight. Every season it falls on deaf ears, even when it comes from Dalglish, a man as written into this club's DNA as glory and the anticipation thereof. And so Liverpool's supporters came to Anfield unable to help themselves; John W Henry, their benefactor, was in the stands, ready to see what £100 million, FSG's total investment in the squad, can buy. Stewart Downing, Jordan Henderson, Jose Enrique, Charlie Adam. Plus Luis Suarez and Andy Carroll, all present and correct. A swashbuckling, exhilarating start. And the inevitable, inexorable come-down. This was the Kop's experience of the last 20 years, boiled down into one dispiriting afternoon. Suarez, fizzing with energy, gave them the lead, glancing home an expertly-delivered Adam free-kick after just 13 minutes. The hosts deserved that, and then some. Suarez had already missed a penalty, ballooning over after five minutes after he had been tripped by Kieran Richardson as he rounded Simon Mignolet. Bafflingly, Phil Dowd, the referee, elected merely to book the former Manchester United player, rather than making him the first dismissal of the season by some considerable distance. Just as expectation is scoured in to Liverpool's soul, so is a desire to referee the occasion, not the game, into Premier League officials. That miss proved crucial, but it should not have done. Liverpool swarmed over Steve Bruce's side in that electrifying first half. In mitigation, Dalglish's side provided enough of a glimpse of what they are capable of in that 45 minutes to ensure Henry departed with no sense of buyer's remorse. Adam stood out, his passing immaculate, his positioning intelligent and his grip on the midfield vice-like. Lucas patrolled next to him, the guard-dog and his pedigree chum. Downing ran ceaselessly, crashing a shot on to the bar after a skating run took him past half of Sunderland's team. Carroll had one ruled out, his muscle, his power, making him a handful. Jose Enrique barely put a foot wrong. And Suarez, despite his evident breathlessness after just two weeks off since he helped Uruguay to the Copa America title, maddened his markers. Few players engender such fear in opponents. But the energy ebbed, testament to a disjointed pre-season in which few of this side have featured regularly. The passes began to run astray, the marking became less than limpet-like. Sunderland, asphyxiated in the first half, began to breathe easily. Liverpool, put simply, choked. It was plain to see as early as the dying stages of the first half, when Jamie Carragher was fortunate to remain on the pitch after a hideous foul on Asamoah Gyan. But in the second half, Sunderland asserted themselves. The visitors equalised in spectacular fashion, Sebastian Larsson volleying home a pinpoint cross from Ahmed Elmohamady, and by the end would have considered themselves the more dangerous side. It is a sight that is far too familiar on Merseyside. This is the sort of home performance that has marred too many seasons since Dalglish departed all those years ago. It should not be cause for too much dejection - these players, ring-rusty, will need time to familiarise themselves with their new team-mates - but it provides a welcome, well-timed warning: there are no quick fixes, whatever you expect.
