EPL Previews: Liverpool, aka "Limperpool FC"

You didn't think some non-Scouse was going to write this, did you?



The Liverpool saga this summer has been like every other tidbit of drama I've endured at Anfield since Rafa and the Yanks began their fraught courtship. A protracted mess of he-said, she-said wrangling that always ends up public, and yet it seems like they fight about something new every week. First it was the need for transfer funds, then it was the Klinsmann debacle, then it was funds again, then it was Rafa's job security, then chairman Rick Parry's job security, and now, funds for Gareth Barry.

It is the definition of "soap opera" through and through: a diverse cast of characters constantly bickering and who never retain any knowledge from week-to-week, so much so that you think you're forever watching the same bloody episode.

Sadly, the product on the pitch is just as much a part of the same soap. Flashes of brilliance and melodrama punctuated by long periods of sitting around and waiting for something to happen. My beloved club are in grave danger of becoming the ultimate paper team: one that matches up well with their opponents in theory, yet routinely underwhelms on the pitch.

It's a tough pill to swallow, and every summer, when we bring in one or two big-name players, my excitement levels rises, the teamsheets look formidable, and then, as we witnessed on Wednesday, it doesn't rise to the occasion.

Looking at this year's squad brings the same salivation. Robbie Keane, although a little pricey at 19 million pounds, brings a verve and inventiveness that Torres will surely benefit from up front. Too often, the Spanish whiz was left to his own devices up front, and while he created and scored a lot of goals, having a good wingman can only be a good thing. Right?

Should the pair find their psychic connection, they'll score a lot of goals, and on paper, they're the best strike pairing in the country. (Lest I forget the exciting intangible that is David N'Gog, a young Frenchman who managed to rebuff the charm and smile of Mr. Wenger)

WANT.

The midfield is unchanged, as the courtship of Aston Villa's prized midfielder has amounted to nothing but tension and bruised pride. Xabi Alonso was shopped everywhere from Wenger's treehouse to the exotic gates of Juventus, and nothing happened there. Mascherano's been enjoying himself at the Olympics (I hear the refs are a little off?), and Gerrard, besides building his new gymnasium, has struggled with a couple of groin strains. I am not concerned, although I might need words with his WAG should the nagging injury persist much longer.

Babel, Benayoun, Lucas and Damien Plessis serve as willing, largely-inexperienced understudies, although in this day and age, the concept of depth is so coveted that I'm glad to have the quality we do.

Contrast this with Arsenal, who essentially become a JV team beyond their best 15 players.

The biggest shifts have come at the back, with a whole slew of new, unknown faces and names: Andrea Dossena joins from Udinese, and if his first match is any evidence, I'm scared shitless to have him patrolling left-back in Aurelio's absense. Riise is gone, although Hyppia is still lingering should Carragher, Agger or Skrtel need a breather. Arbeloa, another concern at right-back, will share some time with Finnan and the free Swiss transfer Phillipp Degen, a guy I've barely seen in LFC Red yet.

Itandje has been mercifully shipped off, and Diego Cavalieri will provide Pepe with a rest every month or so.

On paper (fuck, there I go again), it's a servicable squad, one that's undergone a few major changes from last season, and one that should score goals. By pre-season standards, the results of these tinkerings and experiments were far from promising, and we're lucky to be level on aggregate with Standard Liege heading into the 2nd leg of the CL qualifying round. (The joke is that if we struggled with Standard Liege, imagine how badly we'd fare against Exceptional Liege, or Amazing Liege, or Premium Liege.)

Phew.

Although it's not good to handicap the team just one match into the competitive fixture list, I see the same tired hang-dog limp that's plagued us in previous Augusts and that's put us out of the EPL title race by Christmas.

Of course, I drink the Kool Aid willingly, and there's still a dim flicker of hope that I'll wake up tomorrow and Gareth Barry will be a Red. His cup-tied status should lower the price a bit, and given the prevailing joke that Hicks and Gillett have to root under couch cushions these days to come up with transfer fees means that we might still have a chance.

I'm not amused at our desperate haggling over a million pounds and the relative worth of Steve Finnan, but hey, if this were a soap, we're just playing the part of the idiot uncle from out-of-town for a while.

I am thirsty for the season, and ravenous at the prospect of my wonderful paper team. We look good in print, but we also have a tendency to fold like a sheet of A4 on occasions when strength is needed most.

This all adds up to more of the same, in my eyes. I will go above and beyond in saying that I think we can push for third, but it'll take a miracle (and the sudden ability to beat the Wigans and Boltons instead of dropping points) to get us much beyond that.



Third place, and a deep CL run for the lads. I think we have a cup in us, so I'll plump for the FA Cup.

Reading back on that, I'm reminded as to why I love this game so much. All the negatives in the world can't stop me from reaching for the stars, or at least the stars that I think Liverpool are vaguely capable of.

In the end, with no EPL games complete yet, my predictions look wild, absurd, and ultimately, really good on paper.