THEY say time heals all wounds, but I suspect some permanent damage was perpetrated at Anfield last Wednesday night.

I’m not referring to our hopes of returning to the Champions League next season, even though our chances in that respect now seem slight.

Much more serious in my view was the harm done to our hard-won reputation as the fairest, most loyal and knowledgeable fans in the country.

For the 50 years I have followed Liverpool, I’ve taken great pride in the passionate, innovative and humorous support that has been synonymous with our great club.

From the joyous recital of Beatles hits in the 60s, through the adoption of Gerry Marsden’s soulful anthem, to the electric atmosphere generated on European nights, Liverpool fans have built a special eminence amongst football supporters that managed to survive even 70s hooliganism and the Heysel disaster.

Our special combination of ardent support tempered with appreciation of exceptional opposition performance and general understanding of the game has raised us in the eyes of many to a unique place in the ranks of football fans, seemingly immune to the brutal, unthinking, casual derision typical of most clubs’ supporters, wonderfully illustrated by Birmingham fans booing their side after Everton has ended a year-long unbeaten home run.

Alas, the public ridicule heaped upon Roy Hodgson during the Wolves game has dented that perception, causing commentators across the land to question whether Liverpool fans are truly special, or whether we are just as vulnerable to the mocking culture engendered by the success of TV shows ritually humiliating celebrities in the jungle or deluded wanabees in talent contests.