Read and weep......for joy.
Its been a long time coming.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/competitions/premier-league/8722340/Liverpool-3-Bolton-Wanderers-1-match-report.html
On the sidelines stood the man credited with restoring Liverpoolâs feelgood factor.
Kenny Dalglish has always been a man apart, an island in the storm.
The technical area is his personal fiefdom. It is the only part of Anfield that belongs to him.
Every other blade of grass, belongs to Luis Suarez, the man who brought the fear back.
The Uruguayan is a terror.
He is a bewitching, bewildering menace, trailing roiling panic in his wake.
The 24 year-old did not score in this dismantling of Bolton Wanderers. He does not need a goal.
Often, he does not even need the ball. His presence alone is a torment.
An example, drawn from the moments just after Liverpool had taken the lead. It was just after Suarez, bristling with the impudence of genius, had cut Owen Coyleâs defence to shreds with a swerving pass played with the outside of his right boot and Jordan Henderson had curled his first goal for the club past Jussi Jaaskelainen, after the Finn had denied Stewart Downing.
Suarez stood on the halfway line, the ball at his feet. In front of him, Gary Cahill, rated at ÂŁ17âmillion but not, as Coyle later confessed, at his âabsolute maximumâ thanks to the unsettling effects of a mooted move to Arsenal, and Zat Knight, a reliable campaigner.
The forward feinted one way, then the other, and then accelerated away. Cahill looked left, Knight right, and the two collided. A pratfall, with Suarez as Road Runner, the defenders as a pair of Wile E. Coyotes. The pair exchanged barbs.
A defence reduced to fear and loathing by their unrelenting foe.
Fear spreads and mutates, infecting, afflicting. Jaaskelainen dropped a high ball. Gretar Steinsson handled just outside the box. Coyleâs team shook, and splintered, and shattered.
The hosts might have had three or four, by the break. Downing might have had a penalty for Steinssonâs apparent handball. Suarez should have scored twice himself. He narrowly failed to clip one effort round Jaaskelainen and then saw a sublime chip land on the roof of the net. That is the thing about Suarez: his finishing in one-on-one situations is not as ruthless as his forebear as Anfieldâs idol, Fernando Torres. His footwork, is not so silky as, say, a Cristiano Ronaldo. He dives; that is undeniable. It is a stain on his game. There is little else wrong with it. He has energy, passion and vision in abundance. His imagination is ceaseless. But his greatest asset is his aura.
Suarezâs undeniable excellence should not be cause to write Liverpool off as a one-man team, though, to suggest that Dalglishâs expensively-acquired ensemble are little more than Suarezâs supporting cast. On the contrary, they sit proudly atop the Premier League as a work of immense promise in progress.
âIt was a pleasure to watch,â Dalglish said. âOur passing and our movement was excellent. There will always be various people that grab the headlines, but for us it is a team event. There will have been a few people watching who will have seen some players and thought they could play a bit, too.â
Henderson, maybe, in his best performance for the club.
Downing, all pace and purpose.
Lucas, patrolling the midfield with bite and brio, and Charlie Adam, whose corner found Martin Skrtelâs head for the second and who scored the third just 30 seconds later.
Coyle described it as a âcomedy of errorsâ.
The Bolton manager was clearly disappointed in his sideâs surrender, but that is the effect of fear. They had initially made a good fist of competing with their hosts â Martin Petrov, Steinsson and Mark Davies â all crafting half chances. âThere were only three who came out of it with pass marks,â Coyle said. âYou need more than that.â
With Suarez like this, certainly.
The Uruguayan did not stop, even when the game was over. He might have had another two penalties, and a free kick when Jaaskelainen picked up a back pass.
His indignation with officialdom was such that Dalglish removed him for his own good, introducing Andy Carroll.
Suarez was afforded a standing ovation, his work done, his rule absolute, his terror ingrained.
Thanks Rory.
Loving your newspaper.
