The winning goal against Wilder’s Sheffield United was a basic goalkeeping error; so, too, was the strike that gave Liverpool the lead against Newcastle. Rodgers’s Leicester lost because of a “soft” injury-time penalty. Hassenhüttl’s Southampton missed a glorious late opportunity to equalize. Burnley was undone, largely, by a mis-hit cross from Trent Alexander-Arnold and a mis-hit pass from its defender, Ben Mee.

It is not an argument entirely without merit; it is hard to argue, certainly, that Liverpool’s performances this season and those of Manchester United have diverged quite as widely as the 15-point gap between the teams entering Sunday might suggest. There is hope, in that, for Guardiola; at some point, presumably, Liverpool’s good fortune will run out, and the ball will bounce the other way.

It is not, though, quite that straightforward. In all but one game this season, Liverpool has created more and better chances than its opponent, according to Opta’s Expected Goals metric. It has, in that sense, deserved to win all of its games, the visit to Chelsea apart.

That cognitive dissonance hints at an alternative explanation for why so many coaches have felt their teams might have avoided defeat against Liverpool, if only they had not made one or other telling mistake. Where Manchester City’s great strength is in making itself look good, at least part of Liverpool’s success can be explained by its capacity to make its opponent look bad.

Jurgen Klopp’s team has undergone several small but significant transformations in the last two years. Last season’s incarnation chose its moments to unleash its press more carefully, and became more comfortable in possession. This year’s is experimenting with a higher defensive line, squeezing the play, restricting space.

Its primary tenets, though, remain constant: Klopp’s style is designed to force and then ruthlessly exploit errors. City is at its best when it is sweeping through teams; Liverpool’s aim is, instead, to disrupt them. It is why opponents often feel they have been complicit in their downfall. It is why it can be hard to understand Liverpool’s superiority. It does not seem to be doing things other teams cannot do. It is just doing them better.

It is doing them more, too. Last summer, in the aftermath of its Champions League win, Liverpool came under considerable pressure — both internally and externally — to bolster its resources, to build from a position of strength. Michael Edwards, the team’s sporting director, refused and resisted. In part, that was strategic: it is fair to assume that Liverpool was keeping its powder dry in order to invest more substantially in summers to come.