The referee's whistle pierced the air, and almost instantaneously, the opening bars of "You'll Never Walk Alone" swelled from the stands like a warm tide flooding every corner of Anfield. The anthem wasn't just sung, it was lived, breathed, embodied by fifty thousand voices joining as one.
In the Kop, white-haired Bill hoisted his scarf above his head, humming along with the familiar melody that had soundtracked decades of his life.
Beside him, sixteen-year-old Liam's face flushed crimson as he roared the lyrics with all the raw passion that only youth could muster, his voice was cracking slightly on the high notes but never losing intensity.
Nearly everyone in the stadium sang together, trying to exorcise last week's Newcastle frustration through this collective act of faith. The red scarves waved in sections across the stands, creating patterns like ocean waves rolling toward shore.
When the anthem reached its conclusion, the Kop erupted first.
"Red Men! Red Men!"
The chanting shook the stands.
Bill wrapped his scarf around his wrist and pounded the barrier in front of him with intensity. Liam jumped up and down with those around him, screaming until his throat felt raw, adding his young voice to the roar.
Liverpool's players surged into West Brom's half immediately, establishing territorial dominance from the opening seconds. When Henderson took his first touch, the applause and cheers from the stands washed over the pitch in waves of encouragement and expectation.
As he spread the ball wide to Julien on the right flank, and Julien slithered past the first defender with ease, the volume climbed another notch.
Someone in the crowd was vigorously shaking a banner that read "Julien, You'll Be a Red Legend," the sign was bobbing above the sea of supporters like a flag planted on contested ground.
When Julien played the ball back to Gerrard, the scoreboard clock had just ticked over to the fifth minute. Anfield's roar continued undiminished, those red scarves were still dancing in the air, sustaining the atmosphere that had defined this stadium for generations.
Whenever the whistle blew to start a match, this place transformed into Liverpool's most formidable weapon—their fortress, their sanctuary, their source of strength when everything else failed.
Julien prowled the right channel, constantly scanning for openings, but West Brom's tactical setup was clearly designed with specific containment in mind. They'd set up deep and compressed, prepared to absorb pressure and strike on the counter.
The defensive attention on Julien's flank was suffocating. Every time he received possession, at least two defenders immediately converged on him, cutting off space and options before he could fully accelerate.
On the touchline, West Brom manager Steve Clarke continuously roared instructions about maintaining defensive shape.
Recent weeks had provided a tactical blueprint for handling Liverpool that every Premier League manager had studied carefully. Clarke naturally wanted to exploit those same vulnerabilities and claim at least a point from Anfield—ideally all three.
West Bromwich Albion, affectionately known as "The Baggies," had been last season's surprise package, finishing eighth in a campaign that exceeded all expectations.
Clarke had enjoyed a particularly strong November, earning Manager of the Month honors after guiding his team to four wins and just one defeat. The highlight had been a stunning 2-1 home victory over Chelsea that indirectly contributed to Roberto Di Matteo's dismissal. That result had sparked a four-match winning streak that briefly lifted West Brom to third place in the table.
Even at Christmas, the Baggies had sat sixth, genuinely entertaining hopes of Champions League qualification. Though they'd eventually faded to eighth as squad depth proved insufficient down the stretch, they'd made their mark.
The final day's 5-5 draw with Manchester United spoiling Ferguson's farewell match had demonstrated West Brom's capacity for causing chaos when given opportunities.
For a club with relatively thin squad resources, missing out on European competition wasn't entirely negative. It allowed them to focus exclusively on domestic performance this season, with European qualification remaining a realistic target.
Stealing points from direct competitors like Liverpool would significantly boost those aspirations, making today's fixture critically important for Clarke's ambitions.
In the broadcast booth, Martin Tyler was setting the scene for viewers, his voice was carrying the gravity of the situation. "Before we dive into the tactical battle unfolding, it's essential to understand the league table dynamics, because they frame everything about this match's importance.
Liverpool currently occupy third position, but they're already two points adrift of league leaders Arsenal. More troublingly, Chelsea have leapfrogged them following last weekend's results. The margins are razor-thin throughout the upper reaches of the table—Liverpool are only two points clear of seventh-placed Everton.
Think about what that means. A victory today keeps them attached to the title-chasing pack, potentially even closing the gap to Arsenal. But a defeat? They could tumble out of the top four entirely, plunging into the chaotic scramble for European qualification spots.
Consider the context surrounding Liverpool right now. The ownership transition, the persistent speculation about Rodgers' future, the tactical questions being asked after recent performances, the club exists under a cloud of uncertainty. Given the compressed nature of the standings, they cannot afford any missteps at all.
And let's not underestimate today's opposition. West Brom are among the most dangerous teams in the Premier League when people sleep on them.
Without European distractions this season, they're fully focused on domestic competition, and European qualification represents a concrete, achievable goal. For Clarke, taking points from Anfield or even securing a victory would be enormously significant.
Watch how West Brom are setting up. Clarke has clearly studied Liverpool's recent struggles widely. The midfield's inability to progress the ball cleanly under pressure, the gaps appearing in wide defensive areas, the errors creeping into the back line—these have all become familiar patterns that opponents are targeting.
West Brom's fullbacks are staying deep rather than supporting attacks, and their midfielders are dropping into their own half to reinforce defensive coverage. The message is clear: secure the draw first, then hunt for counter-attacking opportunities.
Julien De Rocca has just received the ball on the right, and immediately two West Brom defenders have closed him down. For Liverpool, the questions today are straightforward but challenging: Can they break down this kind of massed defense? Can they establish attacking rhythm quickly enough?
The answers don't just determine this match's outcome—they determine whether Liverpool can emerge from the shadow of recent criticism and restabilize their season.
Because in the Premier League, a two-point cushion can vanish in ninety minutes. One bad result can completely reshape the table's complexion."
In the 8th minute of the match, Liverpool launched an attack down the right flank, with Julien receiving Johnson's pass near the touchline. The moment the ball reached his feet, he felt the pressure closing from behind.
West Brom's left midfielder Sessègnon attached himself to him, his arm was lightly resting against Julien's waist to deny turning space. From the other side, left-back Ridgewell was already sliding across to cut off the inside channel.
The two defenders formed a pincer movement, blocking off Julien's forward options with efficiency.
But Julien didn't panic. This was familiar territory.
He dragged the ball back with his left foot, then suddenly dropped his right shoulder and feinted as though preparing to burst down the touchline.
Sessègnon instinctively extended his leg to intercept the anticipated movement, but Julien exploited that split-second commitment, flicking the ball inside with his right foot while simultaneously using his left shoulder to absorb Sessègnon's challenge.
He'd created half a yard of space where none had existed, squeezing through the narrowing gap between two defenders.
Ridgewell lunged desperately, trying to hook the ball away, but Julien was already a half-step ahead, poking it forward while his body lurched slightly off-balance from the contact. He steadied himself quickly, regaining control even as both defenders recovered their positions.
Fighting through the physical pressure, Julien managed to advance the ball into the half-space just outside the penalty area. He spotted Henderson making a run through the central channel and immediately delivered a crisp ground pass into his path.
Henderson received the ball without adjusting his stride and looked up immediately for Suárez's movement in the box. He was wrestling for position against West Brom center-back McAuley, trying to create separation.
But Henderson's pass was too obvious, too straight, announcing his intention. McAuley had anticipated exactly this pattern. He stepped forward decisively and intercepted with an extended leg, cutting out the danger before it could develop.
The moment McAuley won possession, he didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He turned and launched a long ball toward Liverpool's half, bypassing the midfield.
The ball arced beautifully through the air, dropping precisely where West Brom wanted it.
Thirty-four-year-old Nicolas Anelka moved to meet it, cushioning the ball expertly with his chest. His touch was slow, composed, showing no signs of his old age. Before Sakho could recover his defensive position, Anelka had already played a simple diagonal pass to release Victor Anichebe down the left channel.
When Anichebe collected the ball, Sakho was chasing from a trailing position. He reached out, trying to grab his shirt, but Anichebe shrugged off the contact and accelerated away. He dropped his head and drove toward goal with lengthening strides. Sakho pursued with maximum effort, but couldn't close the half-yard gap that separated them.
Rodgers had arranged a back three for this match: Kolo Touré, Agger, and Sakho. But at this crucial moment, only Sakho was anywhere near Anichebe. When even he couldn't catch the striker, no one else stood a chance of intervening.
Approaching the edge of the penalty area, Anichebe adjusted his stride pattern, set himself, and unleashed a thunderous right-footed strike aimed at the top corner. The ball flew like a missile toward the right side of goal. Mignolet launched himself desperately, his fingertips were nearly making contact, but the ball was past him, destined for the net—
Until it struck the outside of the right post with a hollow thunk and ricocheted toward the touchline, eventually rolling out for a goal kick.
Every heart in Anfield skipped a beat during those seconds. Sakho stopped his recovery run, doubled over and gasping for air. Mignolet picked himself up from the turf, wiping sweat from his forehead, both men were looking slightly shaken by how close disaster had come.
Anichebe couldn't believe his misfortune.
He dropped to his knees, hands clasped behind his head in disbelief. His teammates and manager Clarke all copied the gesture—heads in hands. If that shot had gone in, it would have completely transformed the match. The disappointment was painful.
Still, Clarke recovered his composure quickly, raising his thumb toward Anichebe in encouragement while roaring "Keep at it!" to his defensive unit. The attempt had proven the game plan was working: Liverpool were vulnerable on the counter.
Television cameras caught Anelka in close-up following his role as the link-up player. At thirty-four, he'd reached the twilight phase of his career, approaching retirement age in modern football.
His journey had taken him from Paris Saint-Germain to Arsenal, then Real Madrid, back to PSG, followed by stints at Liverpool, Manchester City, Fenerbahçe, Bolton, Chelsea, Shanghai Shenhua, and Juventus before West Brom had signed him on a free transfer this summer.
His career trajectory had been extraordinarily nomadic.
Even now, that sequence of play demonstrated his lingering quality as a center forward. His physical capabilities had weakened, certainly, but his footballing intelligence remained sharp.
Liverpool fans had no thoughts to reflect on their former player's career journey, though. They were too busy processing their own narrow escape from catastrophe.
________________________________________________________
Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:
patreon.com/LorianFiction
Thanks for your support!
