1-0 to Liverpool.
The goal was a moment of pure, unstoppable genius. The Anfield crowd erupted, a deafening roar of joy and relief. In the commentary box, Jamie Carragher was no doubt feeling vindicated, his prediction of a thrashing starting to look prophetic.
But we didn't crumble. We stuck to the plan. I made eye contact with Dann, and he rallied the defense. We reset, refocused. And just before halftime, we got our reward. In the 43rd minute, a Liverpool attack broke down.
Matip, under pressure from Benteke, played a rushed, panicked pass straight to McArthur. The Scotsman didn't hesitate. He played a quick, incisive ball forward to Zaha, who was already making his run.
Zaha was one-on-one with Milner. This was the moment. The pace mismatch. The weakness we had identified. Zaha feinted to go outside, his body shape screaming that he was going to use his speed to burn Milner down the line.
