It was one of the nights to be a Liverpool fan/supporter.
Proud as punch that the minutes silence to commemorate the 27th anniversary of
the Hillsborough disaster was held in complete silence by both sets of
supporters (not that we’d expect anything less) and then a stunning rendition
of YNWA sung once again with fervent passion by both sets of supporters and
continued long after the the music had stopped.
I was surprised at the omission of Allen and Sturridge,
expecting the later to start upfront with Origi as they had ended so positively
against Stoke. But, then our indefatigable manager isn’t going to give two
hoots what I think.
There were early warning signs as Aubameyang curled his shot
past the upright.
Nine minutes in and we were two down with Dortmund looking
formidable breaking from deep. Speed, technique and precission.
Weigl controlling the tempo and flow with grace and Emre Can left seemingly
alone in the centre of midfield to stem the procession.
Bad defending it may have been, but Dortmund were all
class. Henrikh Mkhitaryan struck first and then Patrick Aubameyang
emphatically striking into the top corner at full stretch after running away
from last man Sakho.
Looking to the left and the right of me the feeling of hope
seemed to evapotate in unison.
To the right of me there was Jawaid, critical in the extreme of
our inability to keep the ball and David, just silent, head in hands. To the
left, there was Karl slamming Firmino and pleading with Klopp to take him
off. Arjun, Harj and Dogus looked pensive.
But just then I looked down at my phone to see a WhatsApp message
from Mo, it read simply “Remember Istanbul. Don’t give up” (message sent
at 20:17).
Dortmund could and should have been out of sight. There
were chances missed and last ditched tackles at the ready.
Divock Origi doesn’t just lead the line, he is the genuine article. There was was an
attempted flick on goal from a wonderful James Milner run and cross down the
right and a header past the post. There was an embarrassing spin and air
shot from Adam Lallana for which I swear I heard the comment “Uber for
Lalllana,” from behind me.
We made it to half-time with no further damage.
The players rolled out for the second-half and Jurgen Klopp was
still not listening to me. No changes, no Sturridge and no Allen.
It was a damage limitation exercise as far as I was
concerned. But this is Liverpool where we dream and dream big and hope was
somehow springs eternal.
Liverpool was still trying and 3 minutes into the second-half Emre
Can strived forward to play an inch perfect through ball in the knowledge that Origi’s BMW
like acceleration would take him away from Hummels to slot home.
Ten minutes later the hope turned to despair as Hummels coming
forward looking for retribution, played a sublime through ball inside Clyne and
the out of position Lovren into the stride path of Reus to stroke home a
curling shot past Mignolet.
To all the world it felt like one step forward and two steps
back with Dortmund possessing the ability to go through the gears at will.
Then the turning point. With just under 30 minutes to go Joe
Allen came on for the ineffective Firmino and Daniel Sturridge replaced the
equally subdued Lallana.
Within three minutes we were firmly on the front foot. Joe Allen shot high over and Sturridge
snagged a shot wide, but it showed intention.
A minute later that intention turned into a goal.
Coutinho finding space just outside the area, bent his shot
around the defender and into the corner of the net past Weidenfeller.
We hoped, but I doubt whether any of us truly believed as
I clipped David in the back of head for his non-celebration.
Suddenly, Dortmund were no longer their free flowing selves with the winning post firmly in sight as with so many teams in that position
they began to retreat and become more inhibited.
And then belief.
Cometh the hour cometh Sakho.
After yet another shanked corner from Milner, who otherwise had a
tremendous game, Sturridge missed a back heel flick on which broke the
concentration of the defenders allowing Sakho to stoop low and head in the
equaliser on the night. Boom!
Twenty-three minutes to go and with Kagawa and Reus now off
for Ginter and Ramos there was less accent on the offensive (even with Gundogan on the
pitch).
My mind drifted back to the annuals of Anfield history. We needed
someone to pick up the Gerrard mantle as against Olympiakos.
Then it came. One minute into injury time. The ball worked
from a free-kick into the feet Sturridge who subtlely flicked the ball inside
the defender for Milner bursting to the byline who stood up a cross to the back post. Lovren, doing a serious impression of Michael
Jordan’s ‘hang time’ hovered in the air for what seemed like an eternity before
powering his header inside the post.
The Roxy (the home of Liverpool’s London Supporters Club for
watching games with a cinema sized screen) where we watched the game exploded,
the noise, the bedlam could only be second to being at the end the game.
Dortmund had one last chance with the last kick of the game, which
substitute Gundogan curled just wide.
Man of
the match: Divock Origi once again
led the line like a Trojan, superb control and held the ball up like a veteran. His
goal inspired hope and made the much heralded Hummels quiver every time he raised a gallop.
He was closely followed by James Milner who was everywhere and anywhere and
whose final cross for Lovren’s winner had quality written all over it.
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