There is no conceivable scale whereby one can measure euphoria. Euphoria is relative, and as are most things explainable in theoretical physics and the known macrocosm. Take note, however, of Einstein’s observation of ‘Spooky Action at a Distance’, a paradox that still baffles scientists today. Einstein and others considered such behaviour to be impossible, as it violated the local realist view of nature and sense, which laid waste to years of effort by the greatest minds of our generation and past.
Nature, sense, science and relativity goes out the window when 35,000 giddy Liverpool fans stop their lives and livelihood to watch an animated flight LNX3GHY travel from Dortmund to the city that gave the world the gladness of the Beatles. Wanton joy wears Wayfarers and it had landed on terminal 3 at 17:02 BST. You’d think Liverpool had won the league.
As a Manchester United fan, I’m nervous – nervous about the passion Klopp will bring into this Liverpool side, about the new players who would want to join to play under him, and about the tactical-approach-with-intensity he would bring to Liverpool. I’m afraid that Juergen Klopp, a manager who we prized, a manager Ferguson tried to lull with his bottle of Merlot and charm in Geneva, may do the most horrible thing – get Liverpool Football Club their identity back; for that I would never forgive him.
The only other man who dared to win based on pure determination and will instilled in his players was Sir Alex Ferguson. Dare I compare Klopp to Sir Alex? He’s still young and has a long way to go, but the signs are present, and this unnerves me. Pukhafte Fernwirkung has creeped down the M62 and up my spine.
Sod off, Liverpool. You made us hate Juergen Klopp.
