Down in the depths of Brendan’s cupboard there’s a book. It’s black, leather, slightly worn and has one of those annoyingly accurate, elasticated band-holders on it. It’s roughly 500 pages short with circa 50% capacity remaining.
Scribbled innocuously on the outer cover with a silver marker, of all things, is ‘Moves’. There’s a few pages torn, and the odd randomised doodle, but in general the book is in good nick. It’s taken some hits over the last few months, notably during March and from September to December, but on the whole it’s had a prosperous 2015.
The book contains, if you hadn’t already guessed, moves. “What moves?” you ask, well, moves. Footballing ones. The special kind that give you the upper hand in matches, or the ones that allow you to dominate games. Now you understand.
Last season the book was utilised to great effect. A fella called Suarez locked out many of the pages. Brendan was happy with his book. It worked for him, and consequently nobody acted like a nosey twat and questioned what was scribed within it.
This year however, how times have changed. Everyone wants to know what’s in this book. There’s doubt that Brendan’s book either isn’t being used to its greatest effect or what’s enscrolled inside isn’t what people first envisaged.
Brendan’s worked hard on his book. He’s taken it abroad with him. In his possession. Inside his hand luggage. Writing as he goes. Noting everything from many men who have been met and told him wise things. There is solid value and experience in this book.
Now, in April of 2015, ahead of a big game for Brendan, does he turn the page and use up another empty sheet of his book? Does he stick with something hidden in his black book, or should he twist and roll the dice?
In the very last page used appears a name. It’s a nice, Brazilian name which rolls off the tongue in a South American manner. Next to it is a poorly sketched wand and rabbit in a hat. Brendan isn’t the most competent drawer. It reads ‘Coutinho’. Underneath you find the words ‘false nine’. This was the page Brendan used in the last game. He felt it went well.
He has a decision to make now. He has a Tim Sherwood page, which tells him Tim’s a geeza, and this is playing on his mind. Will Tim come striding out at Wembley with his win ratio stapled to his chest? This worries Brendan. He also has a ‘Benteke’ in his book from previous chapters. He knows this name and is tempted to pen a new page to help deal with it.
Brendan decides to stick with his last page, however, commit to Coutinho, and have faith in his ability in the much-discussed false nine. Jordon Ibe, appearing in the book a few pages back, isn’t allowed on this page, and as such a Lazar has been added. There’s also an Italian (not Fabio) who is back in the frame. A Mr Skrtel returns after a short absence. The book is filling Brendan with good thoughts now.
If the next two games go well, Brendan has promised himself a new book. He’s not a wasteful man but after a trophy win he feels it’s right to draw a line through what has gone before. What has been written won’t be forgotten though – the book will still be in the cupboard.
In the most elongated metaphor ever, there are many questions. One is how I’ve seen the book. Brendan and I are tight, put it that way.
Another is probably what the metaphor actually represents, knowing how badly I’ve written this. It represents Rodgers, or more specifically his mind. He’s a clever guy, who knows what he’s doing, and has knowledge in this game neither you or I can compete with.
There is no book. His head is the book. He calculates when to turn a page, when to ink another one and when to revisit one. He’s successfully redrawn many pages, and there is 50% left of this book to continue to do so – unless he has to buy his new one of course.
Let us not pretend we have our own book as good as Brendan’s one. His is exemplary. And for the people that don’t trust his book, get out. I’ve seen it, it’s boss.
