One of these days, I am going to stop writing so often about Liverpool. This is not that day. On Tuesday night, a little before 9pm, a friend messaged to ask what I thought would happen between Liverpool and Manchester United. I told him I thought we would “give them a hiding. At least four goals”. 

The friend, David Higgs the chef, was at work at his restaurant and couldn’t watch the game, so I messaged updated scores. One goal, then two, then three and, finally, as I blew away the smoke from my finger pistol with five minutes to go, four. ..