Never has a song been so apt for Liverpool Football Club, it could very well be the next Kop anthem. Nothing’s impossible.
Like a squirming grub, Liverpool, our beloved, is caught between the grasp of a pair of poisonous pincers. The pincers belonging to a scorpion, a metaphorical scorpion of course, don’t get your hopes up. With two stubborn and ruthless predators holding our future, the people can only dream of change.
With an astronomical asking price in today’s markets, there is no way LFC can be bought by a sensible business man, the self-made scouser with fortunes to spend and not a bad word to say does not exist. If we truly want change then we have to come to terms with the fact we could be out of the frying pan and into the fire. Any new investment will come at a cost, I feel as though the club is now a hot potato and because of the ever increasing demand then it will be passed about over the next 50 years by numerous owners.
Fear not though, what we see at Liverpool is a glimpse into the future. Football is like a bubble ready to burst. More money is being pumped into it than it can generate itself, somebody somewhere is losing out big time. There’s only so much it can take before it pops.
As you know, all scorpions carry a sting in the tail and if Messrs Hicks and Gillett were to sell up, then I for one would be eager to read the small print. At a reported £600m we can only hope to attract either a) a sugar daddy like Sheikh Mansour, or b) a ruthless tycoon. It is very hard to look at Liverpool with a bright future no matter what the outcome.
It would be silly to assume though that a sale will definitely be achieved. Mike Ashley managed to dig his heels in long enough to be accepted. It is far too early to cry victory over the yanks now. Truth be told I don’t know who or what our next owner should be. It seems as though we’ve reached this level of ridiculous expectancy where we must win at all costs. That’s proved our downfall, as David Moore’s sat down for a game of Texas Hold’em with our two scorpions, I think he went all in and busted out. Now we’re nothing but a prized asset to be touted about to the next eccentric money-grabber.
And now for some hope…
Contrary to the song though, the wind of change doesn’t always blow straight. A little gust here and a destructive tornado there and who knows, Liverpool might just find themselves rid of all this toxicity. The ethereal heights of 2005 and 2001 do little to mask the last 25 years of decline. As an entity we’ve failed to keep up with the rest, then, when it looked like we might have caught up, a Russian comes along all dressed in blue and raises the bar again.
Through a rare sparky little brainwave though, I feel as though I’ve seen the answer. “What is it!?” I hear you bellow? “Better the devil you know” I say. Michel Platini is a controversial fellow, but he may just be the answer. Stick with me here…
Okay, we all know he’s a pompous arse with delusions of self importance and genuinely thinks that he’s gone on to be anything other than a bureaucrat. However, on the sidelines Platini has been working very hard on leveling the playing field. If we were a championship winning club we might protest, some of us protest anyway, but think of the benefits we could get from this. Finishing 7th last year, and with a rejuvenated academy, Platini’s plans of youth and local talent could come to haunt teams like Chelsea in the future.
It could take 5 years before Liverpool are a competitive championship team but until then, we should stick tight, we’re not going anywhere and neither is the name Liverpool Football Club, so don’t panic. If you’re under 23 and Liverpool don’t win the league, then fear not because you don’t know what you’re missing.
So while we sit in the gutters, and those at the club try to plug leaks on and off the pitch, we should take time to take stock and plot our route back. Use this time for a fresh start, if the debts are wiped and the manager gets money he can actually spend, then we could begin to climb away from this scorpion grip and get ready to soar.
As we try ever so hard to spread our wings and fly, the scourge of England is trying his best to clip everyone’s wings. So forget the scorpions, the change is what we should be looking at. UEFA enjoy swinging the biggest stick in the room about, I wonder if they might make a few heads roll while we’re sitting down low, the enemy of my enemy is my friend after-all…
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