Tom Lappin: Bellamy and City can make a point in battle with Rafa's faltering Reds

Published on Friday 20 November 2009 22:53

A MAN in possession of a fortune spanning several million a year must be in want of a respectable manager. Jane Austen knew that much, even if Mansfield Park disappointingly turned out not to be a behind-the-scenes study of a struggling Midlands football club.

The plutocratic owners of Liverpool and Manchester City will watch their playthings spar this weekend with the dissatisfied ennui of Roman emperors for whom the novelty of Mark Hughes and Rafael Benitez wore off long ago. "Impress us" they will yawn while idly wondering if that perky Jose Mourinho could be lured back to England from Italy.

At least City's Abu Dhabi consortium are playing with their own money. George Gillett and Tom Hicks's picaresque adventure at Liverpool is refinanced at regular intervals, with much of the liability still lying with the Royal Bank of Scotland, ie, you, me, and the bloke down the road. Liverpool's continued existence is reliant on the notion the Americans owe so much money that everybody is frightened to ask for it back in blunt terms, in case the answer is no. But then much of the Western economy relies on a similar mortar of fear and trust, so perhaps it's unfair to single out Liverpool.

That said, few Western industries are so results-oriented as a football club. Liverpool's status alters on a weekly basis, driven by results on the field (very bad) and in the treatment room (also very bad). Looked at in the harsh light of a commercial auditor, Liverpool would appear to have two, three at a stretch, significant assets.

Firstly, Fernando Torres, responsible for the club's only redeeming success this season, the winner against Manchester United, is an asset diminishing with every wince-inducing twinge of his hernia problem. The inguinal hernia, aka "footballer's groin" (there must be a small consolation in at least suffering an injury named after your profession) requires either surgery or a substantial period of rest. Benitez gazes on his attacking alternatives with despair (Andriy Voronin), disdain (Ryan Babel) or desperation (David Ngog) and issues a communique that amounted to a protestation of undying love for Torres. If Fernando goes I go, he said. If the player said the same about the manager it might have had some significance. As it is, the Americans are hardly likely to be deterred from liquidating their assets by any bleating from Benitez.

Secondly, Steven Gerrard, who has never been quite right since that unfortunate dust-up over his request for a Phil Collins tune. Gerrard is a player who has to carry around not only the burden of Scouse expectations, but also the considerable weight of his own self-regard, where he has to worry whether every tactical switch, or substitution is a slight on the respect and reputation of Stevie G. Not that it is entirely unwarranted. Gerrard has rescued enough lost causes in the past to merit at least a proportion of his narcissism, maybe a quarter.

Thirdly, Javier Mascherano represents Liverpool's likeliest asset to be sold, if only because his desire to swan off to Catalonia increases with every overcast day on Merseyside. He might be advised to pursue the Xabi Alonso route to freedom though, viz playing out of his skin, rather than sulking steadily, and only concentrating on the big matches.

Manchester City have a point more than Liverpool with a game in hand. That would sound like the ambitious plan of breaking into the top four was on course if it weren't for Liverpool's woeful form. City have become a pools coupon banker, contriving to draw from even the most dominant of match positions.

The results might at least inspire a re-evaluation of the dream. Mark Hughes is in the process of de-Brazilifying (yes it's a word) a squad that, less than a year ago, was supposed to be built around the audacious acquisition of Kaka. Robinho, whose sulking makes Mascherano look happy-go-lucky by comparison, will be the latest out the door come January, if Hughes persuades anyone to take him.

In the interim City will rely more realistically on the endeavours of some erratic English defenders like Wayne Bridge and Joleon Lescott, and some plucky Celtic attacking options in Stephen Ireland and Craig Bellamy. The 30-year-old Welsh forward with the shortest friends list in English football reckons that injury might mean he has only a couple of seasons left in the top division. On past form that would imply at least two more clubs, but Bellamy seems to have found a belated contentment at City, a club full of highly-paid disparate egotists (oh, wait, perhaps that explains it).

Bellamy is never a player to forget a grudge, and will be motivated to prove a point to Liverpool this afternoon. Ironically, Bellamy is just the sort of player Liverpool need right now, with the dearth of alternatives to Torres.

These supposed top four contenders will square off competing not to assert their authority, but to paper over their deficiencies. Liverpool's attacking options are limited and their creativity depleted, while they await the long-delayed contribution of Alberto Aquilani. City have more forward options, but a defence that can stray into calamitous uncertainty.

Liverpool need to win, if only to keep the furrowed-browed bankers retaining some hope of those loan payments being maintained. City fans, though, will already know the outcome. It will be a draw.