The Frenchman had a profound impact on
Liverpool and arguably deserves more adoration from the Anfield faithful
Radio is a terrible way to follow football. There will be those who disagree - they call themselves ‘purists’ - but commentary, even at its most vivid, without accompanying pictures leads to a fog of unclarity and uncertainty. Chances for the opposition team feel more threatening than they are whereas those for your own never seem to be anywhere near goal.
But sometimes radio is the only way to follow football, and sometimes it does provide the full picture. Like it did on the evening of Tuesday, 10 November 1998. I was 17 at the time, a Liverpool fanatic and alone in my bedroom listening to coverage of my team’s League Cup tie against
Tottenham on a CD player that happened to have AM radio. The sound was fuzzy and the lack of visuals not ideal, but I got a sense of everything. Crucially, I felt it too. It felt like the end.