WBA 3 Liverpool 0.

I’m an emotionally-invested fan although those who know me say I’m pretty practical and sensible. But I do have the propensity to get neurotic when it involves Liverpool losing on the first day of a brand new season away to West Bromwich Albion. Not 0-1 or 0-2. By a margin of three goals. This was the club’s heaviest opening day defeat since 1937 when it lost 1-6 at Chelsea. The scoreline was humiliating, yes, but what made it more painful was how the team capitulated after the first two goals were scored. Where has the spirit of Istanbul gone now? We were Liverpool FC, nothing was beyond us. We were known for making the impossible possible. We had warriors. Now we have a deal with the Warriors, but no heroes (apart from a couple). Since the last few seasons, newer depths have been plumbed and the rise seems a long way off.

Up until the first goal, the team looked in control mode, although doing what we did the best last season – starting moves, creating chances, missing open goals, picking up bookings needlessly (cue Luis Suarez for dissent, he really should learn how to rein in his frustration). Joe Allen looked solid, Downing – I really cannot say. One moment he was rushing down the right wing and sending in a pinpoint cross into the box, the very next, he was conceding possession carelessly. Suarez was his usual self – dancing around, being a nuisance for defenders, nutmegging, but never really delivering on a striker’s promise of putting the ball in the back of the net. But the one who disappointed me the most was the captain, Steven Gerrard. Not only did he looked dramatically off the pace, he was guilty of giving away the ball on a number of crucial occasions. He was the guilty party when he lost the ball cheaply that led to Brom’s second goal and a sending-off for Daniel Agger. Two penalties in the space of five minutes (one missed, the other clinically scored), Agger shown the red card, Downing brought off for Jamie Carragher making his 701st appearance for the first team -- that is when the wheels fell off Liverpool’s new season. After that, it descended into a farce with the opponents bossing the team in midfield and Muamba and Co. showing the players how it should be done. What’s for, Joe Cole, who was brought on for Lucas, tweaked his hamstring again, having been maybe ten minutes on the field. Like I am fond of saying, Liverpool are the new Arsenal, their propensity of making the ridiculous on the field seem laughable is now taking on alarming proportions.

I’m not one for knee-jerk reactions. When Brendan Rodgers was brought in, I knew we were in for a long haul, especially when a man is trying to implement a whole different style of playing. Until now, playing the long ball and hoofing it upfield was the tactic. Rodgers likes to play it different – keeping possession, move the ball around. The team managed an 88.89% pass percentage last night, the most by a country mile in the four seasons before this, a whopping 152 games. The downside? Only 32% of it was going forward, most of it was moving the ball among the defenders and midfielders. The final third was what let us down again. That is where the team needs to get more clinical and start scoring if it wants to get some points in the bag.

I slept dejected and disappointed. It was supposed to be the start of a new era. Fans on my Twitter timeline were predicting a 3-0 or 3-1 win for Liverpool. I do not get so complacent, I would have been happy with a 1-0 hardworked win and three points in the bag. As of now, there are no points in the table, our centreback will miss the next game through suspension (he might also have played his last game for the club if Barcelona decide to table a serious bid for him), the next game is against champions Manchester City, who break with a purpose and have one of the most frightening strike forces in the league. I’m preparing for us to be ripped apart (like 3-0 last season). But I will also always, somewhere in a corner of my heart, remain optimistic. We bring our best game against the top clubs, so maybe, somehow, we will manage a draw at least, although that seems very, very unlikely. Whatever happens in the next ix months, Rodgers will still have my vote of confidence. He needs time, and calling for his head after just one match will be the silliest thing anyone can ever do. It is the same sinking feeling, the hollowness in the pit of the stomach. It is last season all over again, apart from new kits and some new players.