THE suspension of disbelief is a useful asset while watching many TV programmes; otherwise we’d spend our viewing lives sneering at the likes of Doctor Who and positively creased up at Lost.

This state of blithe acceptance of the preposterous is a delicate thing however; stretch it too far and it’s likely to snap like a rubber band and leave you an object of derision amongst former admirers.

This is roughly what it felt like listening to Rafa Benitez and Steven Gerrard shortly after Tuesday night’s exit from the Champions League. While I understand that managers and players have to put a positive slight on positions of adversity when reporters stick a microphone under their nose just a few minutes after a crushing disappointment, their depiction of a scrappy 1-0 win at a ground where Fiorentina and Lyon notched up eight goals between them as an ‘excellent’ performance had me howling with incredulity. The truth was that the performance was entirely typical of the whole Champions League campaign, and indeed our whole season so far. Piling up the possession stats might reflect well when plotting survival at the Nou Camp or the Bernabeu, but as the recent performances against Fulham and Birmingham City showed, they count for little when they are not turned into emphatic victories against less formidable opposition.

By circumstance or design, Liverpool seem intent on passing themselves to death at present. Spraying the ball around the pitch is supposed to be a tactic for pulling the opposition out of position, preceding a rapier-like thrust into the penalty area, culminating in a presentable opportunity. Instead it’s become a means of giving everyone lots of touches because there’s next to nothing happening in front of them, so let’s not take a chance in trying anything innovative. No penetration, no pace. Passing the buck, not the ball.