| December 28th 1999 |
| Liverpool 3 Wimbledon 1 - League | ||
| Resilient Reds rout disappointing dour Dons. Wimbledon, renowned for playing Route 1, now play an ultra-defensive game as sexy as Egil Olsen's wellies. JMac reports.
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If
I had a pound for every time someone said "We'd have lost/drawn that match last
season", I'd have about eleven quid. But it was true all the same. It took us an hour
to get going against a strong (physically) and defensively well-drilled Wimbledon side and
even after we did catch light with Owen's opener, the one real moment of frailty that led
to the equaliser would have seen whole scale panic set in in 98/99. And it appeared to be
Paddy Berger's fault. Patrick is the scapegoat of the moment, coming in for some terrific
stick for not tackling like Souness, rampaging like Terry Mac or defending like Lawrenson
all at the same time. True - he did fall asleep and allowed an overlap at the free-kick
that led to the goal. However, Sami and Sander lost the cross completely to allow an
unchallenged header at the far-post. I thought we'd sorted all that bollocks out,
boys? All around me on The Kop barbed criticisms flew at Paddy. I sat there stewing - a strange mixture of anger and guilt. After all, I always champion Berger, once describing him as "potentially our Cantona" - a player capable of being the catalyst and transforming a good team into a great one - and here he was ambling ineffectually through this game and effectively costing us the lead. I still wanted to jump up and defend him though. Then we got a free-kick 20-odd yards out and central. Paddy runs up and belts a curling exocet that flies around the wall and past the helpless Sullivan. If amoeba-brain over at the Circus Maximus had scored it they'd be doling out next year's European Footballer of the Year now. "Yee-hah! Gerrin there, Paddy!!". Minutes later an adulatory Kop are singing his name. Fickle bastards. That's the thing about Berger: he's not going to close down in midfield (though he does do it) and snap at heels and win possession. For the Czech Republic he's basically given free-reign and he gallops all over the front-line causing mayhem in attack. But, at the minute, he can't do that for The Reds. For one, he's covering that left flank to ensure that Matteo's wild positional play and poor passing when in the opposition third don't get us into too much trouble. With Hamman still not imposing himself on games in the manner that a top international should there's too much of the donkey work that needs to be done in midfield before we can afford to let Patrick loose. Alongside someone like Roy Keane in the middle of the park Patrick Berger could become Footballer of the Year. Wimbledon seemed to bring a string of substitutes who appeared to be middleweight boxers: well-built lads who looked more than capable of the holding their own in the 'physical' Premiership. I remember when they knocked us out of the Youth Cup a season or so ago - my abiding memory of the Dons' team that evening was just how big and strong their players looked. We may have had the edge skill-wise but they were just too big for 16 year olds and our boys couldn't cope with them. Add to a physical pedigree like this Manager Olsen's dour approach (that makes Helenio Herera's 60's Inter look like Brazil in 1970) and we knew we were in for a battle. Commendably we stuck to the task and didn't panic. We also looked solid and assured at the back with Sami again outstanding. Surely if we could sneak one goal we'd get the three points? Well sneak a goal we did - only they sneaked one back. Ours came from a left wing corner and if the truth be told we were a bit lucky. Wimbledon, for once, abandoned all their usual habits and allowed Spud's pacey corner to reach an unmarked Owen six-yards out. St Mike gleefully lashed it into the roof of the net. Oh how we celebrated ... for a minute or so at least. Then it was back to square one. Surely Wimbledon wouldn't allow themselves a second defensive lapse. But they did when they needlessly gave away the free-kick that led to Berger's wonderful goal. A clumsy and unnecessary aerial challenge on Smicer on the edge of the box was all the invitation Paddy needed. Wimbledon sensed that they had their chance and blown it and they lost their shape and purpose after that. A long punt upfield by Sander was allowed to bounce and Smicer instinctively helped it on with his knee to the lurking Fowler who planted a delicious header wide of Sullivan and it looped under the bar into the top corner. Overall: 7 out of 10 for attitude and tenacity if anything. Stars were: Owen, Berger, Sami and Henchoz.
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