Fortress Anfield?

There is a sign that sits above the tunnel at Anfield. You probably know it well. Everyone knows it. Everyone has seen it. It has one of the most famous phrases in the history of football in this country. This is Anfield. Or the unwritten version; This is Fortress Anfield; with moats and drawbridges and determined defenders like the heroic Rohirrim at the Battle of Helms Deep.

Except those words had lost their meaning.

For some time now THIS hasn’t been Anfield. Oh sure, it was the same bricks and mortar (give or take a few stands) and the same rectangle of turf but someone had forgotten to pull up the drawbridge and feed the laser-headed sharks in the moat; the fearsome sign and it’s bold proclamation reduced to a wall decoration. Too many teams had walked under it with never a glance or a quiver in their souls. It no longer said “Tonight we stand, Men of the North-West”, it had become “Welcome to our Home. Come in, sit down, put your feet up”. Fortress Anfield had become sweet-suburban-semi-Anfield with a 2-car drive and a white picket fence and the neighbours were camped in the back garden. Occasional managers had installed better locks and a burglar alarm but a win was only a determined thief away from being pinched from under our noses.

This season, Brendan Rodgers Anfield is becoming a whole different place. Still not a fortress yet, the defenders all too often resembling the French troops in Monty Pythons Holy Grail film f*rting in their general direction, but while Skrtel, Agger, Sakho and Toure are telling opponents that their mothers smell of elderberries while turning in a comedy performance at the back, the forwards are turning Anfield into a Tower of Terror.

Since the start of the season Liverpool have averaged 2.57 goals a game at Anfield, which essentially means that opponents walk under our famous sign now knowing that they need to score a few goals to even have a chance of getting the points. If you take the first 3 games out against Stoke, United and Southampton (the only game we have failed to score in at Anfield this season) the average is a whopping 4 goals. They may be getting in through the front door, but they’re finding an armed raiding party waiting on horseback and a bearded dwarf blowing an impossibly large horn (I’m going to beat every bit of life out of this Lord of the Rings analogy).

Opponents will know they’re in for a battle. The trip along the M62 on the coach is going to start feeling like the long path into Shelob’s lair (which is an appropriate analogy for anyone who has been on the M62 and had the misfortune of stopping at Burtonwood Services). They know they have to go through there and they’re pretty sure something horrible is in store for them at the end.

Forget the double-glazing and the seven-point locking system. Forget the alarm directly linked to security firms and the police. If you come into our house we’re going to be waiting for you with swords and axes and a massive, scary guard dog to tear you limb from limb. They have had their way for far too long. No more. They will look at the sign next time they walk under it and they will maybe permit themselves a little shiver of fear.

This is Anfield. It is defended.