Paul Tomkins is a writer for whom I have enormous respect and who often influences my views on LFC matters but inevitably there are times when I don’t agree with him. I couldn’t disagree more with his recent assertion that “the 20 game mark appears to be the fairest time to draw further conclusions” on Hodgson’s tenure. Coming after the win over Chelsea, the comment smacked of knee-jerkism.
As good as that result was and as good as the three results preceding it were, the performances have remained abject. Had a single good result been obtained with a poor performance amongst a run of generally good performances, it wouldn’t be an issue but the reality is we have been dreadful in every one of 22 fixtures under Hodgson with the exceptions of the Rabotnicki and Blackburn home games.
In a single match you could argue that end justifies the means but you cannot say the same about a run of 22 games. Football fans are not solely interested in the final scores. If they were, they would check teletext or SKY Sports online an hour after games and not waste 2 hours of their lives actually watching them.
I know nothing about fishing but I would guess that for lovers of that pastime as much as they might enjoy the ‘thrill’ of catching a fish, equally integral to their experience are the peace, tranquillity and the feeling of being outdoors. If a fishing enthusiast was forced to fish in a stinking cesspit with a group of drunken yobs playing loud music and shouting obscenities in the immediate vicinity, would you expect him to be happy if he still caught a fish?
The whole experience of watching Liverpool play is being ruined by Hodgson. There are few if any opportunities to appreciate a good passing move by my team. Moments of goalmouth excitement and anticipation are rare. The confidence that we’re going to win the game never comes. It feels like waiting in a really, really long queue when you don’t even know if the kiosk will be open when you eventually get to the front.
As it is, on most occasions when we’ve fished in this cesspit we’ve caught nothing and on the rare occasions we have caught something it has been barely edible.
After the latest debacle at Stoke, Hodgson has to go now. Come on, NESV, act!
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