Liverpool 1 - 1 Everton
Half-time: 0 - 0
FA Carling Premiership 97/98 - Game 27
Monday 23 February 1998
Anfield Road, Liverpool
|« Derby County (h)||Ref: Peter Jones||Newcastle United (h) »|
|1997-98 Fixtures & Results||League Position: 16th||Premiership Results & Table|
|LINEUPS||Subs Not Used|
|Liverpool:||James, Jones, Kvarme, McManaman, Leonhardsen, Fowler (Murphy 90), Redknapp, Harkness, Ince, Owen, Carragher.||Berger, Thompson, Rizzo, Friedel.|
Myhre, Watson, Madar (70 McCann), Ferguson, Thomsen, Farrelly,
Ward, Tiler, Ball, Bilic, Cadamarteri (46 Oster).
Unavailable: Parkinson, Branch, Grant, Williamson, Barmby (injured); McCann, Phelan (recovering); Jeffers (sick); Southall, Barrett, O'Connor (on loan); O'Kane (suspended).
|Gerrard, Short, Thomas.|
|Yellow Cards||Red Cards|
|EVERTON:||Farrelly, Cadamarteri, Tiler.|||
|REPORTS BY EVERTON FANS|
|Guy McEvoy||Sitting with the enemy|
|Jenny Roberts||Myhre stars in the Anfield mire|
Liverpool lack local authority
by Oliver Holt
Ferguson and Ince share the honours
by Henry Winter
|OTHER INTERNET REPORTS|
|SOCCERNET||Link to SoccerNet Match Report|
|CARLINGNET||Link to CarlingNet Match Report|
|Sitting with the enemy|
There were the usual throngs of people at half an hour to kick-off emptying
out the Winslow for the trek across Stanley Park. I joined the migration
in Goodison Road and started the annual anti-pilgrimage. I love walking through
the Park on evening derbies. It's pitch black, no one can see exactly where
they are going but the tide of the crowd carries you there anyway. You remain
unsure if the man next to you wears red or blue, though the distant strains
of the 'the Royal Blue Jersey' echoing through the trees suggest that for
this leg of the journey at least the majority around were of 'decent' football
The park's paths eventually empty you back out into the street-lamp illuminated world; Anfield Road, the Shankly Gates, the Hillsborough Memorial, the away supporters entrance. My companion and I just kept walking.
You see, for this game I wasn't in the away end. Hassle with vouchers and so on meant that I ended up having to blag a couple of seats in the Centenary Stand from a part-time shite fan who keeps season tickets for a laugh. Saved me a fortune because I got them for free, but left me a bit uneasy because I like to be with 'my own' on these occasions.
I'd decided that I didn't want to get kicked out until at least the second half. So on arrival I looked around me to see if the type of person in the vicinity looked likely to kick up a fuss if I made my allegiance clear. First glance suggested no problem. Excellent.
There was a brief speech from someone from the Hillsborough committee calling for 'justice', and that chant filled the ground. Then Gerry Marsden began crooning that damn song and the teams came out.
At this point, enter Attilla the Hun to ruin my evening. Attilla was a sixteen-stone, red-shite skinhead who plonked themselves in the vacant seat next to me. The skinhead, even more so than most RS fans, was mouthy, abusive, rude, arrogant, smelly and obnoxious. Within moments of arrival the Skinhead was threatening all obvious Evertonians in earshot.
She (yes, SHE) had me scared.
So, with this androgynous battleaxe next to me I decided to 'quiet it out', over the first half at least.
Not that there would have been all that much to shout about for the first period. When the teams had been named I'd been quite worried. The side we put out seemed lacking in balance, a midfield consisting of Claus Thomsen and Gareth Farrelly seemed less than inspiring. Having Ferguson, Madar and Cadamarteri on from the beginning showed at least Kendall was going to go for it, but looking at the teams you had to suspect that our five-man defence (Ball, Tiler, Watson, Bilic, Ward no Short) would be the busy men on the night.
Liverpool started with conviction and my worst fears looked to be confirmed. With our seemingly lightweight midfield, Liverpool looked to be able to push into our half at will. Fortunately, our defence held tight and they always got held up on the flanks with nowhere else to go. Fowler and Owen looked sharp enough but the few times they did breach us the last touch wasn't there and in any case Tommy was having a blinder.
In the Anfield Road End, our fans where singing us proud. Unfortunately, the way they designed that end the noise doesn't travel that well and from where I was sitting it was easy for our lot to get drowned out. They did manage one splendid rendition of 'Spot the scouser in the Kop' though which wound the folk around me up no end.
For all Liverpool's possession it was Everton who had the two real moments of the first half. Claus 'The vision' Thomsen lobbed a great ball to Madar who hit it first time on the bounce and caught James unaware. Cue the now traditional derby chants of 'Doggy Keeper' at James expense. Not longer after that Ferguson did all the hard working in controlling a long ball to put him in on a one-on-one with said 'dodgy keeper'. Should have scored. Didn't.
Ending the half on level terms was kinder to us though in my opinion.
Kendall made a tactical switch during the break bringing on Oster for Cadamarteri. For all Cadamarteri's effort, on the day it has to be said that Rob Jones had the beating of him. On the three occasions they raced for the same loose ball Jones got their first. Danny was also getting knocked all over the place, they were paying him a lot more attention than they had at Goodison earlier in the season.
Again Liverpool enjoyed the lion's share of possession, and there was a complacency amongst those I was sitting with that it was only a matter of time before they took the lead. Attilla's waxing lyrical about McManaman and chums (at least as much as you can wax lyrical when the only words you know have four letters) was beginning to wind me up no end.
Just imagine her face then, when the ball dropped to Ferguson (that's all I remember about the build-up) and he hit it first time, cleanly, past the diving James. So much for me keeping it quiet. On my feet, fists punching the air, cover blown, but who gives a shit. Despite my explicit joy, it still felt restrained, a look over at the party still going on in the Anfield Road End, and I could but wish that was where I was.
Attilla nearly burst a gasket realising she'd been sitting next to a blue. For the next ten minutes her passion rose by the order of ten. My ears head some words that would make Bernard Manning blush.
Amongst all this James finds himself on the floor, Micky Madar finds the ball at his feet, and seemingly there was no-one between him and goal. Every player seemed to stop still to allow him to stick it in. He went and sent it wide. Christ!
The bloke behind me banged me on the head yelling about us missing an open goal, and I was just considering 'banging' him back when everyone stood up and drew breath, I turned just in time to see flukey Ince turn it in. Can you believe that? Twenty seconds, the fate of the game altered irreparably.
My wish to have been in our supporters end when we scored was nothing compared with my wish to be in any other single place on the planet when they scored. Attilla bounced up and down with such force that they'd probably better get structural engineers out to check that the stand is still safe. Every one of them was carrying on like they'd just won the world cup and was hurling their twopenneth worth about the general legitimacy of us Evertonians parentage in my direction. My mate and I sat in our seats doing our best to maintain dignity in a desperate situation.
I guess it could have been worse. Tommy pulled off another great save to stop them stealing it, which, I am convinced, would have led me to inflicting homicidal violence in Attilla's direction. And again, at the end of the night, on balance we have to be chuffed with a point.
Over all though, speaking personally, it was a curious derby experience. Not sitting with 'your own' isn't recommended. In honesty I probably would have enjoyed it more sitting in a pub with my mates watching on a big screen. Still, you've gotta be then if you can haven't you? I Drifted back out across the Park back towards Goodison, finally we could mingle with our fans amongst chants of 'you'll never beat the blues'. We made the walk back across the Park, and Attilla is thankfully now no more to me than a very unpleasant memory.
|Myhre stars in the Anfield mire|
Before kick-off, there was a huge Hillsborough demonstration. The crowd chanted
for justice, united for a handful of seconds with the Reds. I looked
for any obnoxious Reds who might object to my colours. However, I was pleasantly
surprised to notice a large group of Evertonians to my right.
Fortunately, sitting in the Upper Anfield Road, I was relatively close to the Evertonians, and was doubtless that I would be able to join in the victory chants during and after the game.
The Reds never cease to amaze me. Unlike Evertonians, they do not care who is playing. At least us Blues wait until AFTER the name is announced before we comment. I couldn't hear the Everton or Liverpool teams above their jeers.
When they began to play "Y**'** N**** W*** A****," I reached for my personal stereo. Before the game, I had recorded a copy of Z-Cars onto a tape, which I played at full volume instead. I timed it to perfection, and Everton appeared on the pitch just as it started to play.
Although Liverpool began brightly, I was still (quietly) confident that we would get something from the game. I feel so safe when Myhre is in goal, Howard has found the man to take over from Southall. I will be watching the World Cup with interest this summer to see if there is actually a goalkeeper who is superior to him.
Duncan was back defending, and looked passionate as ever in his role as captain. We'll really miss him over the next three games. I'd like to see him beside Howard on the bench during his suspension, and he should contribute to Kendall's teamtalks, as he so evidently inspires our team.
The group of Blues that I had spotted began to burst into song. Cries of "dodgy keeper," were heard constantly. One female Red, who seemingly did not rate the vocal talents of the group as highly as myself, stood up and shouted "Is that why you're bottom of the league than?" I didn't laugh as much even when the ref gave the drop kick. How can their dodgy keeper affect our league position? And if she is going to commit herself to a loud comment, I'd strongly advise her to look at the table. We're sixteenth, not twentieth!
This was my first away game of the season, and I must congratulate the fans who go and support Everton for their away games. The chanting was excellent, and at times, especially after the goal, we seemed like the home team. Liverpool don't have any chants of their own, so they pinched Southampton's. "When the Reds go marching in" was often sung. Plagiarists!
We've not had the best referees lately, and Monday's was no exception. He always, always, always gave Liverpool the benefit of the doubt, and so there was no room in his book for names such as Ince or McManaman, who both committed several off the ball attacks on Everton players. Referees simply are not protecting the likes of Ferguson, who is often used to gain free kicks (see Wanchope, Paulo), and Cadamarteri.
Ince decided to get Thomsen into trouble in the 5th minute, and was awarded a free kick for his efforts. However, the tame, half-hearted shot was no problem for the god-like Myhre.
Madar and Ferguson helped out in defence when their aerial skills were needed. Cadamarteri's electrical pace was also an asset to the back line, which was without Short. His occasional (but very welcome) runs into the attacking half to feed the front two were sorely missed, but Ball was at times superb in his absence.
But the 9th minute, Claus Thomsen, who appears to have done a Craig Short in potentially salvaging his Everton career, crossed magnificently to Madar, whose first touch shot prompted a superb save from James.
Farrelly's booking, which has led to a suspension (how WILL we cope without those accurate long range shots?!), was pretty pathetic. I think that shirt tugging is wrong, but if Wanchope gets away without being yellow carded for shirt tugging AND preventing Ferguson from scoring, then how can Farrelly's booking be justified? I hate the suspension scheme from the point of view that the teams which suffer do not benefit when the player is suspended after the game. I would prefer the idea of a "sin bin," with players being sent off for five or ten minute periods depending on the offence committed.
Ferguson was winning everything in the air, but he was outshone by Myhre throughout. I cannot criticise him on a single part of his game. He is only 24, and already he has perfected his technique. He made goalkeeping look easy, which, judging by the performance of that clown at the other end, is not so.
The Evertonians behind me were excellent. They had something insulting for every Red, and the crowd around me were getting so aggravated that a steward was forced to tell them to calm down a little.
In the first half, Myhre was about to take a free kick, and Fowler was very close to him. The ref began to have a word with him, to which the Blues retorted "Leave him alone, Ref, he's only trying to SCORE!" This prompted glares from various Reds, but they were still not discouraged.
Carl Tiler also got forward quite a bit, and one particular attack which involved him pleased me immensely. He picked out Cadamarteri with an inch perfect, long ball straight to his feet. Cadamarteri turned, and put the ball on his left foot, but his shot was deflected, and didn't trouble James. However, Bilic, who seemingly wanted to prove that Tiler is not the sole Everton defender with excellent vision, passed to Ferguson with an equally impressive show of quality.
Bilic scored his first Derby goal from a Ball corner, but as the linesman ruled that the ball had gone out before it reached Bilic, so sadly it didn't count. However, I had a warm up celebration, in anticipation of our inevitable goal.
The referee continued to display one set of rules for the Blues, and another for Liverpool. Duncan was the victim of a lethal McManaman two-footed sliding tackle, yet the ref waved play on. Nevertheless, a few seconds later, Thomsen committed a lesser offence on McManaman, and they are awarded a free kick.
At half-time, Cadamarteri was substituted for Oster. We looked like we could use Oster's sweet trickery, and ability to get away with murder because of his young, innocent face. Although far from the polished performer I know he can become, he looked quite promising.
Liverpool appealed for a penalty when Owen was fouled outside the box, but fell into it, and rolled about Wanchopesquely, but the ref actually seemed to see through that one.
Then came the 57th minute. Michael Ball's excellent throw came to Madar, who generously nodded it down for Ferguson. He fired a faultless, powerful, unstoppable shot past James, on his very first touch. I nearly fell down the steps cheering for Duncan's goal. I didn't get a chance to look at Thomas Myhre's celebrations, but I'm doubtless that he was doing his usual mad run. However, I did have time to gloat to my sister, who had been insane enough to sit next to me. I'm sure she was close to tears.
We desperately needed to add to our scoreline. Liverpool could maybe get one past Myhre, but no more. If we could just make it two, we would have got the double! Although we dominated after the goal for a while, the clearest chance came in the 66th minute. Ball played it into the box, and James came running out of the goal, colliding with Madar and one of his own defenders. Madar regained possession, and passed to Ferguson, who was in a difficult position. He passed it back to Madar, who only had to beat the defender to make it two. Sadly, it went wide. Now it was me who was close to tears! However, we would have more chances, so I was not worried. We just had to get through this Liverpool break.... McManaman seemed to shoot, but the ball landed at Bilic's feet.
Ironically, I had been singing praises of Slaven's vision merely minutes before. He did not appear to see the Everton defender or Ince when he attempted to clear it. It was really a case of who would react first, and as Ince had been standing still there, and had not just arrived, as the Everton player had done, it was no surprise that it was Ince who benefited. I was one of a handful sitting down, wallowing in misery. I had been looking forward to the right to sing "We're the Pride of Merseyside" at the Newcastle game, but I think a draw was a fair result.
There was pressure from both sides until the final whistle, but the most exciting event was Fowler's injury. Myhre definitely went for the ball, yet all of the Reds that I know are accusing him of putting Fowler out. I had to explain to them that Myhre made contact with Fowler's head, which is not connected with his leg. I still don't think that they understand......
At the final whistle, Duncan applauded the crowd, and later, when I watched the game again on video, he yelled "Come on!" He then kissed Dave Watson, who will probably take over as captain, in a show of his support for him.
Man of the Match: Although Ball impressed me immensely with his instrumental roles in the attacks, Myhre's performance was beyond compare. He is almost invincible.
I was told by a Tranmere fan who went to Newcastle for the cup tie that they sang "Everton reject" to him. Apparently, he hated the chant, and kept on sticking his fingers up behind his back at them, so the ref wouldn't see. Let's give him a really, really REALLY hard time on Saturday! I can't wait.
|Liverpool lack local authority|
|by Oliver Holt, The Times|
FROM a match of twists and turns, of missed chances and swift retribution
that became a tale of two captains, one image emerged as a symbol of the
158th Merseyside derby last night. As the final seconds ticked away, Robbie
Fowler, brought low by a thumping challenge from Thomas Myhre, sank slowly
to his knees in front of the Everton goalkeeper and then rolled over on to
his side as if in submission.
In a blaze of early chances that came on a great rush of adrenalin, Fowler and his precocious Liverpool striking partner, Michael Owen, had spurned the opportunity to give their team their first victory over Everton in eight attempts. They had worked and worked, run themselves into the ground, but still they could not overcome Howard Kendall's side.
Their captain, Paul Ince, dragged them back into the game, equalising Duncan Ferguson's goal, when their efforts were on the point of disintegration. But the draw, valuable for Everton near the bottom, failed to lift Liverpool above Arsenal and to the front of the forlorn queue chasing Manchester United, who remain nine points clear.
The primitive passions that normally inflame any meeting between these two teams had been heightened before the game by the anger on Merseyside that surrounds the Government's refusal to reopen the files on the deaths of 96 Liverpool supporters at Hillsborough in 1989. Cries of "justice, justice" rained down from the stands as the players ran on to the pitch.
Throughout the first half, McManaman and Redknapp, in particular, were outstanding, relentless in their pressurising of the Everton defence, rendering the opposition midfield almost redundant, bullying them to the point of submission with rapier passes. They should have gone ahead in the third minute. Following a channel they probed all night, McManaman threaded a through-ball inside Ball on the left of the Everton defence and released Owen for a run on goal. Owen bore down on Myhre but pulled his shot several yards wide.
A minute later, Watson panicked as Liverpool pressed forward again and aimed a weak header into Fowler's path. Fowler, without a league goal since Boxing Day, hit the fiercest of left-foot drives towards the roof of the net but somehow Myhre managed to tip it over.
After seven minutes, Owen wasted another chance in almost identical circumstances to the first. McManaman freed him down the right again and this time he made sure he kept his shot on target but hit it too close to the Norwegian goalkeeper, who beat it out before it was hacked away.
In the midst of continuing Liverpool pressure, Everton offered a reminder of their capacity to strike on the break. Madar linked well with Cadamarteri, who laid a short ball back to Bilic. He chipped it to Ferguson, who controlled the ball expertly with his first touch and then tried to place it past James with his second but was frustrated by the faintest of touches from the Liverpool goalkeeper.
The kind of pace that Liverpool set can only be maintained for so long, though, especially without reward, and 13 minutes into the second half Everton stunned the home supporters by taking the lead.
Liverpool failed to clear a long throw, Madar touched the ball back to Ferguson and the Scottish striker, who has never been on the losing side in a Merseyside derby, stretched out his right leg and drove the ball low into the corner of the net.
Everton could have put the game out of reach soon afterwards when James missed his punch as he rushed to the edge of the area to try to thwart Madar. The ball fell to Ferguson who nodded it back to Madar but, with James prone and only a defender between him and the goal, the Frenchman sliced his shot hopelessly wide.
He was still holding his head in his hands, the crowd still baying its frustrations, when Liverpool equalised. McManaman put over an innocuous-looking cross, Bilic's clearance hit Watson and Ince poked it back across the face of Myhre into the corner of the net.
|Report © Times Newspapers Ltd|
|Ferguson and Ince share the honours|
|Henry Winter, Electronic Telegraph|
ON A NIGHT of a thousand emotions, the blue and red halves of Merseyside
shared a magnificent football match, one of breathless pace and endless chances
which deservedly finished with honours even at Anfield.
How fitting then that both captains, such symbols of their teams' energy, should provide the goals. Having begun the game by squaring up to each other, Duncan Ferguson and Paul Ince both scored, red following blue. Liverpool, inspired by Steve McManaman and Jamie Redknapp, will take a point and pride from this performance but the Premiership leaders, Manchester United, must seem as far off as ever.
Everton, meanwhile, will also be heartened by their shape, their commitment and danger on the break, though Ferguson will be much missed during his suspension. Gareth Farrelly had an outstanding night, tackling with a spirit that suggests relegation will not be an issue at Goodison.
Emotions flowed from every quarter. The sounds of bitterness and frustration filled the air before kick-off, all those present venting their anger at Jack Straw's refusal to order a new Hillsborough inquiry. Banners were unfurled, declaring the message 'The Kop remembers - 96 reasons for justice'. Calls for "justice" echoed around this famous old ground. Always heated affairs, this derby began at boiling point and never cooled. It was fast and furious, the ball being lashed from end to end. Those who dwelt on the ball resembled men crossing motorways. Football does not come much faster than this.
If the sides matched each other in commitment, their tactics were divergent. Everton, tall and muscular, counter-attacked in adventurous 3-4-3 fashion, the ball aimed often at Ferguson, who was in archetypal battering-ram mood.
Liverpool showed the greater composure. Jamie Redknapp, in particular, kept dropping back and sweeping the ball forward, usually to Steve McManaman, a lithe livewire down the right. Redknapp's influence, mounting steadily as Liverpool probed relentlessly, was swiftly and unappealingly acknowledged by the visitors. Farrelly, excellent in opposition to Ince, and Danny Cadamarteri were both cautioned for sending Redknapp spinning to the earth.
The real surprise of the first half was not simply the low booking count Jamie Carragher deserved punishment for catching Cadamarteri but the lack of goals. Liverpool, attacking an impassioned Kop, could have had at least three.
Surprisingly, the first culprit was Michael Owen, who, revealing rare profligacy, dragged a low shot wide. Moments later he fired too close to the impressive Thomas Myhre. Robbie Fowler, subdued in recent months, was lively enough here, chasing anything in blue and shooting almost on sight. One flashing volley seemed to be heading inexorably for the top corner but Myrhe, not for the first time, tipped the danger away.
Everton weathered the early storm. Gradually, Howard Kendall's men began imposing themselves. Farrelly snapped tenaciosuly in midfield. Cadamarteri showed his acceleration down the left, though Rob Jones proved his equal and Cadamarteri was withdrawn at half-time. Chances came Everton's way, one almost sensationally despatched by Mickael Madar with an improbable volley. David James, caught unawares, fumbled but then recovered.
But Liverpool's goalkeeper was rarely comfortable under bombardment. The focus was trained solely on both goalmouths with midfield simply serving as a launchpad. Ince, relishing the physicality, showed his attacking capabilities, twice racing forward only to waste the shooting opportunities. Oyvind Leonhardsen, released by Ince, brought another smart stop from Myhre as the half closed.
The pace never ebbed, the intensity never lessened. Soon the stalemate was broken, Everton breaking with speed to take the lead after 57 minutes. This was classic stuff. Michael Ball's long throw was met by Madar, who directed a firm knockdown into Ferguson's path. The Scot's reponse was instantaneous and devastating, the ball racing past James. Advantage Everton.
Liverpool's season, not to mention their local credibility, was hanging by a thread. Ince, taking responsibility, drove his team forward again, stabbing the ball wide but then equalising, to Anfield's huge relief.
An element of fortune characterised the way Ince earned possession, Bilic's clearance ricocheting off Watson into his path. But the England midfielder's reaction was superb, a low shot threaded from right to left past Myrhe.
And still the match raged. Redknapp, emerging from the fray, almost settled the game with a low long-ranger, neatly turned away by Myhre.
|Report © The Electronic Telegraph|
|FA CARLING PREMIERSHIP|
|RESULTS (Game 27)|
|Monday 23 February 1998|
|Sunday 22 February 1998|
|Saturday 21 February 1998|
West Ham United
Dublin (pen 89)
Heskey (3, 89)
Giggs (18) Irwin (pen 71)
Di Canio (33)
Ostenstad (19, 88) Hirst (78)
Euell (10) Leaburn (39)
|LEAGUE TABLE (after 23 February 1998 )|
Club P W D L GF GA GD Pts Manchester United 27 17 5 5 56 19 37 56 Arsenal 25 13 8 4 45 26 19 47 Liverpool 27 13 8 6 45 26 19 47 Chelsea 26 14 3 9 52 29 23 45 Blackburn Rovers 26 12 9 5 44 30 14 45 Derby County 27 12 6 9 41 34 7 42 Leicester City 27 10 10 7 31 23 8 40 Leeds United 26 11 6 9 35 29 6 39 West Ham United 26 12 3 11 38 36 2 39 Coventry City 27 9 9 9 32 35 -3 36 Southampton 27 10 4 13 33 37 -4 34 Sheffield Wednesday 27 9 7 11 41 51 -10 34 Newcastle United 26 9 6 11 26 31 -5 33 Wimbledon 25 8 8 9 27 28 -1 32 Aston Villa 27 8 6 13 28 38 -10 30 Everton 27 7 8 12 32 40 -8 29 Tottenham Hotspur 27 7 6 14 25 43 -18 27 Bolton Wanderers 26 4 12 10 23 42 -19 24 Crystal Palace 26 5 8 13 21 38 -17 23 Barnsley 26 6 4 16 22 62 -40 22