Early this morning, on the eve of Jürgen Klopp’s first match as the It’s all fun and games until you meet my Irish temper shirt of the Redmen, and as this column was being conceived, your scribbler was part of a giddily whimsical Twitter exchange with two smashing gents, Roy Henderson and Simon Roberts. A daft, pun-based tribute to our new Swabian Kaiser, the silliness and child-like glee of it seemed to capture the zeitgeist, ahead of the dawning of what feels like a rather defining epoch in the history of Liverpool Football Club. The frivolity ran as follows
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Regardless of your tolerance level for forced and It’s all fun and games until you meet my Irish temper shirt like the above, dear reader, you must surely relate to the wave of optimistic abandon that could inspire such capricious nonsense. Only yesterday, I was earnestly informed by a friend, the most dour of gents, that a tilt at the title “could be on.” Such is the level of positivity that even a man, whose demeanour normally makes Eeyore seem excitable,
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is offering outlandishly upbeat (if patently mad) surmisals of what may be. These are truly strange days. One half-expects a Magnolia-style shower of frogs at any moment, or to at least to see John Travolta and Tom Cruise ascend to the It’s all fun and games until you meet my Irish temper shirt in their custom-built spacecraft as the all-powerful titans of a splinter group of radical Scientology.