As reported by

By Steven Kelly

It’ll do, I suppose.

Look, leopards can’t change their spots. It all seems very enticing and promising, sure, but that’s simply how they lure you into their gruesome web of optimism.

I’ve spent the summer shaking my head despondently at the growing euphoria and wonder whether this sad-sack persona I’ve *ahem* “cultivated” isn’t going to send everyone crazy for the foreseeable.

I don’t really like this period under any decent Liverpool manager anyway. There’s an expectation now. It’s like leaving school and all those good times learning must be put to some practical use. We’ve been catapulted into the wild and windy real world. People expect achievement now.

We’ve bought four players, folks. Four, and one of them will usually be a sub. We didn’t get chauffeur-driven to the Etihad and shout “how much for all 11, chappie?” before slapping a few stray Mancunian ragamuffins and making a quick getaway.

I’m quietly content with the goalkeeper obviously, but after Karius in Kiev they’d have been torn limb from limb for doing nothing.

Coutinho’s paid for half of this, don’t forget, so headlines like “moneybags Klopp” certainly grate. It feels like others, Mourinho especially, are happy to push us under the bus while quietly going about their own business unencumbered by the kind of demands that so often scuppers Liverpool in modern times.

If we can improve further and just see where the chips fall, that’ll be grand. You could understand it if there was nowhere else

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