The back-seat drivers finally take the wheel

Aug 30 2007 Red Watch by Andy Proudfoot, Liverpool Daily Post

GERRARD? Carragher? Who needs them? Okay, okay, I’m not seriously suggesting that we jettison our two talismanic players just because we’ve won one-and-a-half games without them, especially since the opposition has not exactly been top drawer.

But what a joy to be able to observe that, for the moment at least, the drive they provide when present doesn’t entirely go missing in their absence.

Whether it’s the improved quality of player at the club, or just a function of enhanced competition, every game so far has been typified by the sort of verve and aggression that hasn’t always been evident in previous seasons, particularly away from home.

The absence of Gerrard has always been the kiss of death in the p, ast as the rest of the players seemed lost without his pivotal influence and unable to share out his duties amongst them to mitigate the effect of their loss.

Yet at Sunderland Sissoko and Alonso provided just the right balance of energy and calm to set a platform for victory, while the former and the marvellous Mascherano did the same for Toulouse.

With these four on form, maybe the Kop’s claim that we’ve got ‘the best (central) midfield in the world’ isn’t so far fetched.

At the back, the towering presence of Hyypia continues to mock those pundits who sought to blame his lack of speed for every defensive mishap 12 months ago.

The guy is a modern-day Ron Yeats, he will give every ounce of sweat for the red cause and his distribution has improved to the point where he makes Rio Ferdinand look like a push-and-run player.

Daniel Agger should take notes while he can, since there’ll be no finer example of the centre-half’s art to observe in coming years.

Another injury to one of these two might leave us looking a bit stretched however, which probably explains Rafa’s pursuit of Heinze, who could have provided cover here as well as usurping Riise at left-back.

At least Paletta won’t be around to give us his version of the Rumba while all around him are dancing the Samba.

Fergie hasn't a clue

THE knock-on Rick Parry’s door was firm, but somehow eccentric. As he pulled the door open, he could barely contain his surprise.

“Sir Alex! What are you doing here?” he ventured. “I em not Sir Alex,” he replied, “I em Inspecteur Ferguseau from the Old Trafford Sûreté.”

“Er…right. Inspector, what can I do for you?’ said a slightly perplexed Parry.

“I ‘ave come to investigate your role in the infamous case of the Argentine full-back.

“I ‘ave reason to believe that you ‘ave been up to no good,” said the Inspector, knocking over the hat stand as he entered.

“Ah yes. I see,” replied Parry. “Well, firstly, ‘Inspector’, that was a dispute between you and the player over your apparent desire to control his future movements even though you had no need for his services. Not the sort of thing you’d find in any other walk of life, but still.

“And secondly, I’m forced to remind you that you have no powers to ‘investigate’ us. You’re not the Premier League, even though you might be forgiven for thinking so, you’re not the FA and you’re not, I can assure you, the police in any shape or form. In short, get out.”

“Not so fast’ replied Fergie, shuffling uncomfortably in his grubby mac and trilby. “I ‘ave…I mean you are…erm…does your dog bite?”