A Sunday wouldn t be a Sunday without picking up one of the twelve-supplement broadsheets, turning to the sports section, and reading something along the following lines . . .
In the 16th minute, Kennedy clipped in a free-kick which skidded about the Anfield penalty area, pinball-like, before landing at the feet of Mooney.
The Watford striker could hardly believe the space he had found in an otherwise crowded penalty box, and he gratefully side-footed the ball beyond Liverpool keeper Sander Westerveld . . . Ah yes, we have seen this movie before, methinks.
Liverpool s rotten home form has been a talking point for some three seasons now, and is often wheeled out as the explanation for why their pre-eminence in the English game has ebbed slowly away since about 1996.
Being beaten by Watford was merely the latest in a seemingly endless succession of tame surrenders to duff teams at Anfield. All the usual ingredients were present and correct: ropey opposition, an expectantly baying home crowd, a farcically spectacular winning goal, and the sight of a half-empty McDonalds Kop at half-four, as the Reds supporters bowed to the inevitable and headed home.
It was reminiscent of that glorious occasion in the 97- 98 seasons, when the wretched Barnsley came to Anfield and walked away with three points.
It is, of course, a fait accompli that Liverpool will put four or five past Watford at Vicarage Road next February, or whenever Sky Sports move the fixture to. Similarly, it s part of the rules that Liverpool will fritter away God knows how many more points to bad teams between now and May, while working like savages to deny Arsenal and Man United priceless victories (as they did last season).
In their own backyard, of late, Liverpool have tended to fall foul of mangy outfits like Coventry, Southampton, Sheffield Wednesday, Everton and the aforesaid Barnsley and Watford.
None of these outfits is exactly lurking on the front row of the European football grid, which suggests that Liverpool s difficulty in putting them to the sword lies less in their respective footballing strengths and weaknesses, and more in the effect that Anfield increasingly appears to be having on opposition teams.
Certainly, the place seems to bring out the best in the putrid teams rather than the good ones. The Pool s record against the middleweights-to-light-heavyweights, such as Leeds and Aston Villa, is superb. In the course of this decade, Villa in particular have been completely incapable of achieving a better result than 0-3 at Anfield.

A videotape of the highlights of Liverpool s 1998-99 season would probably prove to be hard going for even the most committed Red, but such a tape exists. Foul Play has seen it (on the shelf), and it is out there. Wisely, the manufacturers have packaged it as Houllier s Revolution Back To The Future, rather than simply trying to flog it as a straightforward season review and therefore reducing potential sales by 80%.
Houllier s revolution is going to require more than one 360-degree cycle before it comes to fruition. It would have been expecting too much to imagine this Liverpool team, full of unknown foreign imports and callow locals, to knit together right away. Houllier handed out nearly half a dozen debuts at Hillsborough on the opening day of the season.
Yet, if even three of his new men turn out to be qualified successes, it will have justified his mid-summer outlay of #20 million-odd. It s out of his hands to a large degree and the loss of Dietmar Hamann until November was the worst piece of luck any manager is likely to suffer this season but realistically this Liverpool side should have enough about them to get into Europe through one tradesman s entrance or another.
Smicer is pretty watchable, Fowler and Owen are two of the three best English strikers around, and when they get Hamann back, the midfield won t look nearly as desolate as it does now. And if, on early reports, the new keeper appears nearly as jittery as David James, well, even Peter Schmeichel took a season to bed in properly at Man United.
Even during the Watford dibacle, the cut of their jib was periodically eye-catching. Here and there, you saw little glints and flashes of the old magic, tiny hints of their ability to carve the opposition open. These served as reminders that Liverpool still remain a considerable cut above much of the Premiership, and that they would have to disimprove considerably before they descend to the level of, say, Everton.
Despite himself, Foul Play would love to see them finally cobbling together some sort of meaningful tilt at the Premiership title, but the feeling persists that the forces of Fate, Chance, Destiny, Rigobert Song and Sami Hyypia have other plans for them.
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