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    Liverpool reached their first Wembley cup final with a convincing win over the Blues, but there would later be heartbreak for the hero of Maine Road.  Over 70,000 Merseysiders invaded Manchester for this game and many of the city’s pubs were drunk dry. Reds fans were desperate for success after seeing a league title challenge fizzle out despite going the first 19 games of the season unbeaten.
      Liverpool dominated the opening stages, with Jimmy Payne and Billy Liddell tormenting the Everton defence down the wings. We led 1-0 at half time after a speculative lob into the box by Paisley had deceived everyone and dropped into the top corner of the net.  In the second half we continued to take the game to the Blues and deservedly extended the lead when Liddell spotted a gap in the defence to score.   Everton never looked like getting back in and their star man Harry Catterick was superbly marshalled by stand in centre half Bill Jones. However there would be a cup final disappointment for Paisley. With Laurie Hughes returning from injury, the board decided that the versatile Jones should keep his place and Paisley was forced to make way.   We lost the game 2-0, but Paisley’s experience was vital to him later on when he had to make tough decisions in his highly successful management career with the Reds.    
     
      Season:  1949-50 Opposition: Everton Result: 7-4 Scorer(s): Bob Paisley, Billy Liddell Venue: Maine Road
       

  • Seven years after they signed, Bob Paisley and Billy Liddell finally made their Reds debuts in front of a packed house at Anfield. Fans that had been deprived of meaningful football for so long weren't disappointed either as the Reds came out on top in an eleven goal thriller.
      Liddell and Paisley joined Liverpool as youngsters in 1938 and 1939 respectively, but the outbreak of World War 2 meant their football careers had to take a back seat. National competition was suspended for the duration of the war, so there was huge interest when the Football League resumed for 1946-7.   This wasn't our first home game of the season, but it was the first to be played on a Saturday afternoon. The gates were locked 40 minutes before kick off and those who were lucky to be inside saw us race to a 6-0 lead inside the first hour.   Liddell was sensational, scoring two of those goals and setting up another, while Paisley put in a solid display too.  Complacency led to Chelsea clawing the lead back to 6-4 but Willie Fagan eased nerves with our seventh three minutes from time. We went on to be crowned league champions at the end of the season, while the two debutants went on to play a major role in LFC's history.  
     
     
      Season:  1946-47 Opposition: Chelsea Result: 7-4 Scorer(s): Liddell (2), Jones (2), Fagan (2), Balmer Venue: Anfield
       

  • On a memorable Easter Monday Liverpool secured a third league title with a win over the previous seasons champions.  With four games remaining the Reds were five points clear at the top of the league and knew that a win coupled with a Spurs defeat would guarantee the title.
      However Burnley weren’t going to relinquish their title easily, as they were still mathematically in the hunt themselves. Over 50,000 fans packed into Anfield and saw us win 2-1 thanks to goals from Dick Forshaw and Harry Chambers.   There was then an anxious wait to hear the Spurs score. After what seemed like an eternity it was announced that they had lost 2-1 at Oldham and we were the new champions.   It was the first time in our history we had clinched the title at Anfield and there were huge celebrations. There were further joyous scenes at the end of the season when the players and officials paraded the trophy in a horse drawn carriage.    
      Season:  1921/22 Opposition: Burnley Result: 2-1 Scorer(s): Dick Forshaw, Harry Chambers Venue: Anfield
       

  • Liverpool clinched their second league title in just fourteen years existence despite losing this game at Bolton. With two games remaining we were five points of Preston, who had a game in hand. A win at Burnden Park would guarantee the championship and 1,000 Reds fans made the trip by special train.
      In a thrilling game we went down 3-2, with Jack Parkinson scoring both our goals. However news came through that Preston had been beaten at Sunderland, meaning we could not be overhauled in the league table.    The team arrived back at Exchange Station at 9pm and were met by several hundred excited fans, who escorted them back to their wagonette. As it was Easter Monday, several other daytrippers were returning from excursions and wondered what was going on. When told of our success, they joined in the celebrations too.   It was our second title in just fourteen years existence and had been made even more remarkable by the fact we had been promoted just a year earlier. The Reds had become the first team to achieve this feat and only Everton, Ipswich and Forest have equalled it since.    
      Season:  1905/06 Opposition: Bolton Wanderers Result: 2-3 Scorer(s): Jack Parkinson Venue: Burnden Park
       

  • Come the end of the season many fans will be looking for specific traits that a new acquisition can bring to their club’s football team. Some will be prioritising a nose for a goal or a creative spark, others may look for good reading of the game and solidity in the challenge.

     

    That’s all well and good but with climate change on the horizon, natural disasters increasing in regularity and that unforeseen zombie apocalypse just around the corner shouldn’t we be looking for a different set of skills from our players? Specifically; the ability to survive in a post-apocalyptic dystopian future.  At this point I’m presuming you’re all nodding your heads as the realisation of your misplaced priorities dawn upon you.

     

    As you’d expect I thought I’d get ahead of the curve on this and have already selected the people from the footballing world that I would be looking to assemble as part of my last-ditch backs-to-the–wall stand for humanity. To begin with you’re looking for intelligence, a strong moral code and the ability to lead others. You’re going to need a couple of these to help guide your group through the perilous situations that will face you.

     

    The first two names being selected are timeless Argentinean legend Javier Zanetti and Basque pass-master Xabi Alonso. I’d back both of them to be calm under pressure and they grab me as the types to try and hold the group together. On top of that after both studying under Mourinho they almost certainly realise that sometimes the route to survival involves getting your hands dirty and crossing some moral boundaries. Factor in Zanetti’s publicised support for the Zapatistas and you’ve got yourself the brains and the heart of the team right there.

     

    Next up I want someone that has military experience and so I’m looking towards Scandinavia as I have it in my head that over there they all have to do it (I did consider Israel but then Yossi Benayoun...fighting zombies...nah, we’ll leave that one). Straight away I’m thinking of Zlatan but then in the next thought I’m seeing the picture as he has to weigh up the survival of a few others against his own safety. The boy’s a lone wolf isn’t he? Black belt or not he’s a liability.

     

    I also considered John Arne Riise for his superhuman stamina and powers of recovery, but then found out he swerved national service. Apparently Teemu Tainio, of Finland and Spurs, got told by his old man he wasn’t allowed to duck out of it so, almost by default, Teemu’s on-board. If anyone or anything needs shooting I fully expect him to step to the plate.

     

    The fourth member of the crew isn’t a player. You’d be negligent to step out into the harsh, unforgiving badlands without having some medical experience for the many times it is going to be required. As much as I’d like to have brought back Socrates for this I can’t really go back in time so I’m going to make do with Nigel Adkins. The recently booted Saints gaffer was a physio and so I’m presuming the man has some decent skills with a first aid kit. I can’t make my mind up if his relentless positivity would be a good thing or if it would see him shot in the back within the first week. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

     

    Although this is a totally serious process to help save humanity I am aware that there’s an outside chance the apocalypse may not crash down upon our heads quite as soon as I expect. For that reason I have to ensure this isn’t completely wasted time and keep one eye on the film rights. So with that in mind I know that an all-male crew just isn’t going to fly with the bigwigs who do the commissioning.

     

    This isn’t a problem as fifth member, Kelly Smith, fits perfectly into our growing band of travellers as a proven winner with a history of backing her own judgement, although the sentiment of “it’s shit here, I'm off over there” might not be that useful come to think of it. The wise head on young shoulders, brought about by a tale of redemption from problems with drink and depression, could also be essential, and provide a guiding hand in the dark times.

     

    The final member of the team had to come with some mechanical or electronics experience. This posed rather a large problem as the only person I could think of that fits the bill is Stuart Pearce. That’s a real tough call. Would someone with the nickname Psycho be an asset or a ticking time-bomb? Would he take to the new world like a fish to water or would he spin off into a Falling Down style descent and slaughter everyone in our makeshift beds? Given my limited options, and the added bonus that he did a bit of plumbing (always essential for a new civilisation), I decided to take a punt on him. Don’t let me down Stu, you fucking lunatic you.

     

    So, with half a dozen being about the perfect size for a group of survivors, there we have it. Come the reckoning you’ll have all been judging footballers by entirely the wrong criteria and I’ll be moseying from busted up town to town with this band of bad-asses. You may laugh now but when you’re being eaten by zombies because Lionel Messi hasn’t got a clue what to do and Ronaldo is having a little meltdown in the corner don’t come crying to me.

     

    Stu Montagu

    @SimianJustice

  • Former Reds midfielder David Thompson feels his long time friend and former team-mate Jamie Carragher is calling a premature end to his Anfield career and has urged the defender to reconsider his decision.  
     
    Thompson knows Carragher better than most having first played alongside him when the pair were just 9 years old, and he says Carragher could and should extend his time at the club into an 18th season.  Speaking exclusively to TLW he said:  "Jamie's performance levels this season have been fantastic.  His reading of the game is second to none.  I know he's probably got opportunities to do media work and maybe an opportunity to stay on at Liverpool in some staff capacity but if he can still run and he can still play and affect the team and his team-mates around him then I would encourage him to play on for as long as he can."
     
    Thompson drew comparisons with Manchester United veteran Ryan Giggs who recently agreed another deal to stay at United beyond his 40th birthday, and believes there is no reason why Carragher couldn't also have stayed on another year at least.  "Knowing Jamie, he's a very proud man and he will have looked at how he's been used this season and thought "I want to play every game".  After games he probably can't get up the stairs, he probably feels very stiff, very sore.  But I'm sure Ryan Giggs at 40 years of age also feels stiff and sore after games.  You just manage it".   
     
    The midfielder, who also played for Blackburn Rovers, Coventry City and Portsmouth amongst other clubs, knows better than most the regrets of a premature retirement, having chosen to hang up his boots in 2007 at the age of 30 due to persistent knee trouble, a decision he know regrets; "I probably could have played another two years and I do regret that I didn't.  I'd always encourage people to keep playing.  If you can run and have no physical disability, just keep going as long as you can. Even though Jamie probably feels he's had a long career, you're a long time retired and you do miss it.  Nothing will ever compare to that."
     
     
    * These quotes were taken from a not to be missed interview with Thompson on our latest podcast in which he discusses his time at Anfield, including the breakdown of his relationship with Gerard Houllier and infamously scrapping with David Hopkin in a reserve game.

  • I think it’s acknowledged by most that Michael Owen is admired by many but loved by few. Of course you’d have to admire his career when you see his goal scoring record for Liverpool and England. Those days were Owen’s pomp, from the moment he burst onto the scene during the death throes of a Roy Evans title chase at Wimbledon, up to his last year with the club during the season that did for Gerard Houllier as Liverpool manager.
     
    At his most potent Owen was a sight to behold, his pace was his greatest asset followed by his ability in front of goal. He was never the player that Fowler was, Owen’s best work was inside the box or being put clear of a high back line, whereas Robbie was dynamite in the box but had a left foot that was dangerous from distance. 
     
    They had different attributes but both were important players for Liverpool. Yet one is regarded as a Liverpool legend whilst the other is considered a legend nowhere. Maybe for the national team, where his record of 40 goals in 89 appearances seemed to give him his greatest sense of satisfaction. That was always the problem with Owen, he never seemed a Liverpool player in the same way Fowler, Carragher and Gerrard seemed to be. That was possibly because his defining moment to most (and probably himself) came in an England shirt very early in his career. Back then I didn’t have any beef with the England national team and I was buzzing when Owen planted that goal past Roa in the World Cup. 
     
    Possibly because I never thought of Owen as Liverpool’s property it might be why I wasn’t cut up about him eventually leaving for Real Madrid. I was annoyed that he hadn’t given the new manager a chance (see also Torres, Fernando) to mould the side but I don’t think you can ever chastise a player for wanting to try something different (especially when that player had done so much for us) and if Real Madrid come calling then it’s the player’s prerogative if they want to give it a go. 
     
    What wounded me about Owen was his move to Man Utd. I’d advocated bringing Owen back to help us out as an option from the bench and seeing him go to them stuck in the throat. In reality he owed us nothing, he gave us his best years, won stuff with us and tried to come back after Madrid realised that signing Owen and Woodgate would not lead to a La Liga title (who knew?). All moving to Man Utd did was assure that Owen would be a rare thing in football. A prolific goal scorer who had played for three top clubs and was loved by none of their fans (see how I’m not counting Newcastle there). 
     
    I was never mad at Owen for going to the Mancs, just disappointed, and I never had any sort of self-righteous anger that football fans love to trade in, with him. He was a great player for us who gave us loads of good moments and a few great moments. To Liverpool fans his cup-winning double against Arsenal will always be his defining moment, not the goal against Argentina. So I suppose I don’t hold any sort of grudge against Owen despite who he went on to play for.  He might not be loved by the majority of Liverpool fans but I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t love a fit, in his prime Michael Owen at the club now. 
     
    Julian Richards
     

     
    I loved Michael Owen, but I also loathed him in equal and – now I realise - excessive measures. Today I don’t feel much at all. Probably not enough. 
     
    It’s ironic that on the day he announced his official retirement from football – many would say it happened unofficially about 5 years ago - that both of those extreme emotions seem as distant as the terrifying speed and the wide-eyed smile that abandoned him too soon after his stunning rise and characterised his slide into absolute obscurity. 
     
    It seems sad that a man of his rare talent, who provoked so many smiles and frowns and provided so many unforgettable moments, goes out with barely a whisper and only a Twitter account, on which he’s constantly mocked, to let people know he still exists. 
     
    Michael can and already has pointed to honours and accolades as he hangs them up. On a personal level – always his priority - 40 goals and 89 caps for his beloved England and the European Footballer of the Year title. As part of a team, he’s also got a League Championship, an FA Cup, a UEFA Cup and three League Cups.
     
    People will point to his injuries and talk of what might have been, but the truth is any footballer could retire incredibly proud of that haul. The great tragedy of Michael Owen’s career was not his dodgy hamstrings and groins, it’s the fact that a man of his talent, potential and stature goes out with no one really mourning his loss. 
     
    He’s not loved or loathed anymore. He’ll be remembered by everyone, but remembered fondly by hardly anyone. A once-in-a-generation player like Michael Owen should be missed. He won’t be.
     
    There was a time, when a friend and I jokingly had “Robbie or Michael?” arguments. I always picked Michael. What a ridiculous thought that is now. 
     
    On reflection, I don’t think it’s his all his fault and that’s why I have a tinge of sadness today. I don’t blame him for joining United, but I hated him for it, just like I resented him for not holding out for a return home in 2005 in order to safeguard his England spot.
     
    But that’s just who Michael was. He was self-centred and driven to a fault.
    However venal he often seemed in the years following his departure it must be remembered that through his endeavours to become the superstar he did, he helped facilitate some of the best memories of many of our lives. I don’t need to list them and for those I’m so thankful. 
     
    But I can’t help thinking, as the chapter closes on his career, that there was a chance for “Michael Owen scores the goals Hallelujah!” for so long my favourite player song, to join those tunes that echo around our stadium for generations after their bearer’s finest hour. I’m not sad for Michael, but I’m sad for that.
     
    Chris Smith
     

     
     
    Summing up my feelings towards Michael Owen really isn't a simple process. Frankly, he came back to haunt us about as much as one of Derek Acorah's fictional phantoms. There's not much argument that we got the best years of his once bright career. But unfortunately, when it comes to Owen there are so many mitigating factors to make you think you really dislike him. And then, you look at him now, a husk of a footballer retiring aged 33, and I can't help but actually feel the tiniest bit sorry for him. He evokes bipolar emotions, it's very odd.   As a Liverpool player his record was excellent, he scored so many goals and in 2003/2004 was, in tandem with Gerrard, the reason we qualified for the Champions League the following season which we of course went on to win. When he first burst onto the scene he was electric. His reputation preceded him of course, he was touted up and down the country as being a goalscoring machine. That's the way things turned out. But he will easily fall short of club legend status.   The "England's Michael Owen" thing never bothered me to be honest. He's certainly no more guilty on that front than Gerrard, who has reported to and come back from England duty with injuries many more times than Owen ever did. He was clearly very proud of playing for England (despite being Welsh, oh yes I went there) and the "Not English, Scouse" thing does nothing for me. I like to see players representing and being proud of playing for their country just so long as they don't get injured.    But as always club is more important than country and after allowing his contract to run down to just 12 months, Owen's conduct towards the club that made him a superstar was reprehensible. I have no doubt that the delay in contract negotiations was manufactured. I don't have a problem with him going to Real, at that time in history they were the place to be, and despite finding himself on the bench for most of the season he chipped in with 16 goals. If I remember rightly he had the most goals per minutes on the pitch in all of Europe that season. What I do have a problem with is only getting £8m for a player worth at least treble that in his pomp.    Even after that he could have remedied the situation but panicked and signed for Newcastle. He clearly didn't want to go there but it was a World Cup year. He wanted to come back to Liverpool and Moores and Parry were trying to make it happen. He should have waited until deadline day. If not, January. As it turns out, Ronaldo got injured that season and so he would have played a lot more than he feared. He lost his cool.   A lot of Reds saw that as a betrayal. I won't lie, "Where were you in Istanbul?" from the Kop made me deeply uncomfortable. I found it a needless dig. Again, at Newcastle he did little apart from suffer injuries, a particularly nasty one in the 2006 World Cup was pretty much the end of him. He slunk out on a Bosman when the Geordies got relegated, much to the ire of their fans. Not that it's hard to attract their ire.    At this point Owen lost any positive connection with Liverpool when he signed for United. Again, with him being gone for so long and his best days many years behind him, I could cope. Given the choice I'd sign for United over Stoke (those were his options) as well. But I would have kept my trap shut and acted with class and dignity. Owen however joined right in with his new target audience. Within minutes of signing for them "United were a fantastic club" and he had "always wanted to play for Sir Alex." It's comments like this that made people completely turn on him. And before the league game at Anfield in October, he came off the bench to a chorus of boos, shortly following his churlish (wonder where he learnt that...) comments about "looking out for Real Madrid and Newcastle's results." Again, trying to kiss up to the fans at the expense of those who made him.   He was probably entitled to wash his hands of us after the "Where were you in Istanbul?" moment but by going on the attack he converted a lot of those who were indifferent to a lot of those who disliked.  I loved him, I missed him, I was disappointed by him and then I hated him. Now I just feel sorry for him. He won't be short of money and his international record is very good, he'll be in England's upper echelons for a long time. But Michael Owen should have been a Liverpool legend. But he is ultimately going to be a man who just isn't remembered that fondly of at any of his former clubs. And for a player of that ability, that seems a shame.   However, one Fernando Torres might want to think exactly the same - the grass isn't always greener on the other side, is it?   Dan Thomas     More than any other ex-Liverpool player it’s hard to pin down and put to words exactly what my feelings towards Michael Owen really are. I’m tempted to say I’m quite apathetic about him but then I’ll see a replay of a brilliant goal he scored or I’ll recall some of the events surrounding his relocations to Madrid and Manchester and it will drag me away from that neutral centre ground, in differing directions.   For me, leaving Anfield for new pastures is rarely a crime in itself; it’s usually the way in which that departure takes place that informs my attitude towards a player. I can still watch Mascherano and Alonso with fondness despite both wanting to move on to better things, whilst feeling little but antipathy and pity for Torres due to him deciding not to bother playing football for Liverpool six months prior to the point that he was no longer playing football for Liverpool. The way in which Owen exploited the weakness of the manager’s position, and in many ways the club, by continuing to pretend he would sign a new deal, and not doing so, sticks in the throat. Deliberately giving himself the upper hand and forcing the fee we would receive down was a calculated but understandable move from Owen; just don’t expect a parade when you return to town.   The derision and hostility that flowed down upon him on his return to Anfield was predictable but was also, in the grand scheme of cauldrons of hate, quite mild. The problem with appearing that you are a cold, calculating, footballing machine that keeps the emotion of the game at arms-length is that it’s hard for people to become attached to you. At the same time, they’ll hate you less too. For us to care about the demise of Arnie in Terminator 2 it has to be established that this ruthless construction of human flesh over robotic innards understands the human condition; he knows why we cry. The one we had in a red shirt always gave the impression that he never did. If Fowler had done what Owen did, Anfield would have struggled to contain the energy of hate on his return; Owen got ribbed a bit.    In essence I find it very hard to conjure up much in the way of passionate feelings about Michael Owen, he of England, McDonalds, Green Flag and of glossy corporate brochures filled with motivational buzzwords and PR vocabulary. I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck when I see his goals winning us silverware. I feel peeved when I see him now, understandably, talk of LFC like it’s dead to him. More than anything I feel that I should feel more strongly about him; but I don’t. That’s the legacy of his choices: he’s a Ballon D’Or winner loved by nobody in particular.   Stu Montagu  

  • Michael Owen was the best young player I have ever seen, and it’s not even close.  He was absolutely incredible in his teenage years, in fact I’d go so far as to say that despite everything else he went on to achieve in his career, that was when he was at his electrifying best.   I first saw him as a barely turned 16 year old playing for us in the FA Youth Cup.  He’d been given time off from the National School at Lilleshall to come back and play for us in the showpiece tournament for youngsters, despite being three years younger than some of his team-mates.  He was incredible, he scored twice in that first game I saw (against Sheffield United at Anfield), and followed it up with a hat-trick in the next round against the Mancs at Anfield.    It wasn’t just the goals though, it was the way he put the fear of God into the opposition.  He’d just pick the ball up and run right through them.  Teams completely shit themselves, he was devastatingly quick and he had ice in his veins in front of goal.  I’d never seen anything like him before and have not done since.  He wasn’t just incredibly talented, he was absolutely fearless and also had a maturity about him that you don’t normally see in kids of that age.   He bagged another hat-trick in the 1st leg of the semi-final against Crystal Palace at Anfield, and when we ran into trouble in the 2nd leg and ended up in extra time after blowing a big lead, Owen came to the rescue again with two more goals.  10 goals in four games, playing three years below his age group.  Some going that.   He missed the first leg of the final through international commitments, but was back for the second leg and scored in front of over 20,000 people at Anfield as the Reds lifted the trophy.  There were other good players in the team, including Carragher, Thompson and Jon Newby who all went on to play for the first team, but Owen was just something else.     The next season he was in the reserves and the goals continued to flow until eventually Roy Evans could ignore him no longer (I thought he should have made his debut months before he eventually did).  He scored minutes into his debut and the rest as they say is history.     His all round game improved over the years, to the point where he was even named European Footballer of the Year in 2001, but injuries took the slightest of edges off his searing pace and although he was still exceptionally quick, he couldn’t do what he was doing as a teenager and adapted his game to compensate.  He worked on his left foot and his heading to the point where he became pretty good with both and began to score all manner of different goals.   Michael was a great player for us, greatly respected, admired, liked... but he was never really 'loved' in the way all of our other great strikers have been. His biggest crime was that he wasn’t Fowler.  Robbie was the scal from Tocky who we all related to, he wasn’t clean cut and middle class, he was one of us. He would get himself into little bits of trouble but we loved him for it, he was a slightly flawed genius if you like.  Michael on the other hand was seen as “Mr Goody Two Shoes”.   Robbie would go out bevvying in town, often getting himself in bother whilst Owen would be in bed at 6pm with a mug of Horlicks, living the life of the model pro.  Yet it was Fowler who we rooted for the most.  Michael Owen was Bobby Ewing, Fowler was JR.  Everyone preferred JR to Bobby, even though logic dictates we probably shouldn't have.     I didn’t blame Michael when he left for Madrid, he owed us nothing and he was true to his word when he said he wouldn’t leave on a Bosman in the way McManaman had.  Of course £8m for a player of his talents was only a small step up from a Bosman.  In fact it was £8m plus Antonio Nunez, so nearer to £6m!  But no matter.  That money went towards bringing in Xabi Alonso so it didn't work out too badly when you look at how the next few years unfolded.    A year later Michael was desperate to come back but he dropped a bollock by bottling it over possibly losing his England place by being stuck on Madrid’s bench.  He should have just refused the move to Newcastle, even if it meant sitting tight in Spain for another six months until Madrid accepted our offer.  There was no way we were going to match what Newcastle offered for a player who had left us for £8m 12 months before.   I felt sorry for him when he was taunted with “where were you in Istanbul?” by the Kop on his return.  If he wasn’t there as a fan then no doubt he was at home, cheering us on.  And let’s not forget, without his goals the previous season we wouldn’t have even been in the Champions League that year.  He deserved better than that I felt.   Hell, I didn’t even mind too much when he signed for United.  Once again he’d been desperate to come back here and waited for an offer that didn’t come.  He could have turned down United and said “I can’t do it out of respect for Liverpool fans” but that’s just not how he’s made up, ‘Brand Owen’ was never going to look a gift horse like that in the mouth, he went to a lot of trouble designing that brochure to make teams want him, so when Ferguson came calling he probably couldn’t believe his luck.  When the alternatives are Stoke and Everton, those aren’t alternatives at all really.    So I was generally ok with him joining United, but I wasn’t ok with the way he reacted to it and the things he said.  He could have said “I hope Liverpool fans understand that this was just too good a chance to turn down at this stage of my career” and at least tried to smooth the water.  Instead he came out with some bollocks about how it was always his dream to play for United or something.  It wasn’t true, he was just trying to ingratiate himself with the United fans and he didn’t give a toss if it upset us.  It wasn't the last time he'd do it either, you could have been forgiven for wondering if he'd ever played for us at all, let alone spent something 15 years man and boy here.   That’s my only real beef with him, the lack of respect he showed us after joining United.  I didn't like it, but it’s not enough to wipe away the good memories I have of his time here.  On a scale of Love and Hate, I’d be sat near the middle on Indifference, leaning ever so slightly towards Love.     And I hope to one day again see a kid in the youth team that terrified the opposition like the 16 year old Owen did back in that Youth Cup run.     Dave Usher

  • Former Reds' midfielder David Thompson checks in to discuss his career, his relationship with Gerard Houllier, scrapping with David Hopkin and why he feels Jamie Carragher should rethink his decision to retire.  Then in the second part of the show Dave Usher and Paul Natton join 'Numbers' to discuss Wigan, Spurs and Southampton.
     
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  • Some may be surprised at the inclusion of the player signed by Kenny Dalglish from Sunderland for £200,000 in July 1986. He wasn’t a bad player by any means, but that’s not what this top ten is about. It isn’t the ten worst players, it’s players who weren’t the best but had something about them that was pretty funny or endearing. In Barry’s case, it was his haircut and his wardrobe!

    He was a steady full back, a decent back up but never really good enough to be a regular starter. He wasn’t quick, wasn’t particularly skilful or good going forward, but he was a good competitor and steady defender. ‘Solid but not spectacular’ would be the best way to sum Venison up on the field. Off the field was a different story. Sporting a mullet that Michael Bolton would have been proud of, Barry had a penchant for outrageous clobber, and was a constant target for ribbing from his team-mates. With a wardrobe so colourful it made John Barnes look positively dull, Barry was the butt of many a dressing room put down.

    A friend of a friend of mine grew up with Barry in the North East, and used to go out on the town with him occasionally. Every time they’d go out, Venison would wear something hideous which would keep his pals amused. Then one night they saw him walking towards them, dressed in this conservative looking dark suit. Disappointed, they were just about to ask him what was wrong, when he turned round to reveal this huge white stallion on the back of his jacket!

    He had a decent career at Liverpool, playing 158 games and even finding the net three times. He originally got his move to Anfield after writing to every club in the top division asking for a chance to play for them following Sunderland’s relegation. Dalglish gave him that chance and the player gave six years good service.

    He left to join Newcastle, where he re-invented himself as a holding midfielder under Kevin Keegan’s management, and even managed to get himself a couple of England caps playing in that role. At the time Terry Venables was handing out international recognition to everybody, including the likes of Neil Ruddock and David Unsworth, but Barry’s club form did warrant the call up to be fair.

    After hanging up his boots he got a job as a pundit with ITV, where he got the chance to show off his whacky suits to a national TV audience. Sadly, the mullet had long since gone, but we live in hope that it may return one glorious day.

     

    Dave Usher

  • Ok, so we didn’t love him, but we laughed at him and seeing as though I was struggling to find ten players who fulfilled both of those requirements, the South African made the list by default.

    In the summer of 1998 Roy Evans paid £2m for the striker who had forged a good reputation for himself in the Bundesliga. He had a good goalscoring record, and was described as a pacy, powerful forward who was as much a threat in the air as he was on the ground. That was partly true, in that his aerial threat was the same as his threat on the ground. He posed no threat either way.

    On his arrival, he was asked about his strengths as a player. He immediately mentioned pace, saying“I’ve always been the quickest player at every club I’ve been at, but I hear Michael Owen is pretty quick so we’ll see…” Understandably, hopes were high amongst the fans after the build up he’d given himself, but he was a total flop, making only three substitute appearances before returning to Germany at the end of the season.

    The most notable of those appearances was in a home defeat to Leicester City. As the ball was cleared out wide of the Leicester penalty area, Dundee set off after it, with a clear five yard start over Frank Sinclair. Yet Sinclair overhauled him with such ease it appeared Dundee was standing still. Faster than Michael Owen? Maybe now that Michael’s on crutches perhaps, but even that’s debatable.

    He was a character though was Sean, and there were loads of wild stories doing the rounds about him, the strangest being that he had more than one wife back home in Germany. I never did find out if that was true, but nothing would surprise me as he was a bit of a party animal.

    Rumour has it he’d turn up on a Saturday morning, still dressed in the clothes he’d left Melwood in the day before, stinking of booze, wanting to know why he wasn’t playing! There were also reported sightings of him cruising for talent around Liverpool City Centre in his convertible sports car. I never saw this myself, and it could be one of those urban myths you get about footy players, but it would explain why he couldn’t run!

    I was told a story by a club employee a few years ago that Dundee actually scuppered his own transfer to a top German side, by asking them what the nightclubs were like in their city. Everything had been agreed, transfer fee, personal terms the lot, then he popped the question and they couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Luckily Stuttgart came in for him, he was warned not to ask any questions and we got a million quid for him.

    When it comes to the worst player ever to play for the reds, Dundee is a strong contender. Had he been given more opportunites to play he’d probably be most people’s number one. Luckily for him hardly anyone can remember seeing him play. I saw him play in the reserves, but I’ve tried to erase that from my memory. We’d have been better off signing Mick Dundee from ‘Walkabout Creek’.

     

    Dave Usher

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