THE least arsed I ever am about Liverpool is when they are shite.

I honestly don’t care, I can detach myself from it, it just doesn’t hurt. I still pay my money, I still go, I still enjoy the wins but the horrible slog of watching a team on a downward spiral with very little to go on, it just doesn’t hurt me, I’m desensitised to it.

Beaten by Blackpool? Fuck it, shrug of shoulders, get the ale in.

Concede a late goal to the reigning champions after being so close to recording a statement result? Murderous rage.

This Liverpool side has it within itself to wipe the floor with any side in Europe, to instil panic into any back four. When they are on it The Reds must be an absolute nightmare for opposition coaches.

But it is a Liverpool side that harbours a nagging doubt, a sense of the fear of the inevitable, what can go wrong invariably will.

And it is this fear, and confirmation of it being played out time and time again which fuels the anger, because this Liverpool side at times is its own worst enemy to the extent where it often feels like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Of course, Liverpool have been unlucky at times, but they put themselves in a position to be unlucky with an almost masochistic desire.

The crowd know it too, there is a sense that The Reds are one statement result away from casting off the self doubt and that is why when they have that result in their hands only to see it slip away it provokes the strongest reaction from supporters.

This Liverpool side is so close to catching fire but constantly finds its parade pissed on, it’s potential so great, but it needs to be realised.

The amount of times you wish this side would prove you wrong, for it to fuck you off and make a mockery of your nerves, only for them to follow the script.

Liverpool are so close to being fucking boss, to being one of the top teams on the continent, it only makes the frustration when they let themselves down more acute.

And it is that reaction that can be often misinterpreted.

You also have the unique Liverpool cult of manager syndrome to contend with.

Such is the desire to deify Jürgen Klopp, as we did Rafa Benitez and Gerard Houllier before him, any perceived slight, intended or not, is rigorously and hysterically attacked by some as heresy.

The Telegraph’s Chris Bascombe wrote earlier in the week: “Klopp was 30 seconds in Seville and four minutes here [against Chelsea] from one of his most satisfying weeks in charge,” and he couldn’t be more right, but rather than use this as a reason to not criticise or get upset about Liverpool, it’s the exact opposite.

Ironically, if this anger and frustration can be channelled in the right way it can be a massive positive, we just need to be a little more streetwise on and off the pitch, throw it at the opposition, the referee, anything, energy whether positive or negative needs an outlet so why not use it?

What’s also true is that we’re — especially supporters of a certain age and demographic — haunted by the past. We’ve been here before, our hopes raised to such a height only for the wheels to come off.

This is neither the fault of Klopp or Brendan Rodgers before him, and both have referenced the weight of expectation that representing Liverpool puts on both players and managers, but, fair or not, that is the reality that comes with the title of being Liverpool manager.

The Liverpool match-going crowd is made up of several groups. One of those is the over 40s who’ve seen it all. Another is the 30-40s who were old enough to remember the last league win but never had a chance to enjoy properly.

I am among this group, I was nine years old the last time Liverpool did the thing that we all want them to do and since then I’ve seen Liverpool come close time and time again only for them to fail and it all turn to dust.

I want to be a believer, I want to have that blind faith that everything will be sound, but I’ve seen this before and I also know through bitter experience how it ends.

Now that obviously isn’t the truth, we can and hopefully will finally banish that particular giant monkey off our backs.

And once we have done it, we’ll repeat the trick over and again, but we’ve been carrying that weight for far too long a time and the scars from seeing the glory only to have it snatched away time and time again run deep.

So if you think the reaction to recent results from people has been over the top or out of proportion, maybe take in the context of what’s gone before.

We want it more than you could possibly imagine, we’ve been so close we’ve allowed ourselves to have a dream that has so often become a nightmare.

We can see what this Liverpool can become, but we’ve been here before.

If we hadn’t seen such riches, we could live with being poor.

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