Football becomes irrelevant at times like this, said Liverpool manager Kenny Dalglish. He stood in the tunnel, awaiting kick-off, speaking decently of a decent man. He had already decided to release Craig Bellamy from his first-team duties for the day. Gary Speed was a mentor to Bellamy, Dalglish said. He did not want to cause his player unnecessary distress. More than most, in bleak moments, Dalglish knows the relative importance of the game he plays. His thoughts were with Speed’s wife and children, he added, and somehow the genuine sorrow in his eyes made it more than a hollow statement.
Yet, this is Anfield, as the sign says, and Anfield is about nothing if not the emotional charge and consuming passion of football. So the game would go on, even against the backdrop of tragedy. And it did. The solemnity of the occasion was properly observed, the words to Rodgers and Hammerstein’s haunting You’ll Never Walk Alone rarely more apposite than when sung to welcome the teams, prior to a minute of silence for Gary Speed.
Liverpool’s anthem was written for a man who commits suicide, Billy Bigelow, the male lead in the musical Carousel. It is introduced as a song of comfort for his wife Julie and is reprised, heartbreakingly, at the finale. Over time it has been transformed into a powerful terrace hymn and here it was, poignantly encapsulating the terrible sadness and significance of Speed’s life and death. Many in the stadium may have been unaware of the various layers at work, but Speed was respected and liked throughout football and the home fans rose to the occasion of his passing, as expected.
The silence that followed - shared with a tragedy of equal wretchedness, the death from leukaemia of goalkeeper Brad Jones’s son, Luca - was impeccably observed, the whistle blew and it was time to play.
It was what Speed would have wanted, we are told, but that is guesswork, too. If his passing proves anything it is that the desires of men, behind the public mask, are often a mystery. But Speed was good at football, we know that, and in times of great unhappiness, sport sees its duty as playing on. The league table is incapable of compassion and, in May, will not make allowances for a team that lost their way on hearing terrible news. So Liverpool and Manchester City raised their heads and got on with the game; and that is ultimately what we must also do here.
For this was not a match played as if irrelevant. It contained thunderous passages of play, a heroic turn in the Manchester City goal from Joe Hart and a cameo role of pure idiocy from Mario Balotelli. At its conclusion, many considered it another test passed by the Premier League leaders, who were closer to defeat than at any time in the domestic campaign this season, but held out. They remain five points clear. Liverpool deserved to win, but City will draw great strength from the occasion. A lesser team would have folded under intense second-half pressure. This was a display of outstanding resilience. With one exception. ‘Why always me?’ Balotelli asked after again becoming the centre of attention at Old Trafford earlier in the season. Because you’re an ass, would have been the reply to the same question on Sunday.
Balotelli was introduced after 65 minutes and played like a man angling to return to the dressing room from the start. His first booking, for an unnecessary foul on Glen Johnson, was foolish in conceding a free-kick in a dangerous position, with the equally dangerous Charlie Adam standing over it. His second yellow card was harsh, but any sympathy was tempered by his belligerent attitude.
Balotelli caught Liverpool defender Martin Skrtel with an arm, but not maliciously, and certainly without the forethought that appeared to go into similar offences, unpunished, by Blackburn Rovers midfield player Steven Nzonzi at Stoke City on Saturday.
Skrtel, however, hit the floor as if clubbed, and Liverpool’s players reacted with angry protests. Referee Martin Atkinson, who did not appear to be reaching for a yellow card at first, panicked lest he be accused of complacency and Balotelli was gone.
As Dalglish rightly pointed out, however, the striker was the architect of his downfall. He arrived looking for trouble and found it. Balotelli is a good player, but whether he is talented enough to justify this level of maintenance is another matter. There are more than a few with his ability who do not require constant attention.
If Liverpool were unlucky to be denied by Hart in the final stages, they got one break which kept them in the match in the first half. It came after Vincent Kompany had lost Dirk Kuyt, his marker, from a David Silva corner - looks like we haven’t got Kompany, as Liverpool’s defenders might have concluded - to head City into the lead after 31 minutes. At that time, the visitors were impressively on top and trying to chase them down could have left Liverpool vulnerable to counter-attack and a second goal to determine the match.
Instead, from their next passage of forward play, Liverpool equalised fortuitously. Adam hit a low shot from 30 yards that was going well wide until Joleon Lescott panicked, having lost his bearings on the field and no longer confident of where Kuyt was lurking. Lescott stuck out a leg and diverted the ball past the helpless Hart.
Back in the game, Liverpool emerged after half-time with renewed vigour and gave City a genuine fright. Hart made three outstanding saves in the last 26 minutes and Stewart Downing missed an excellent chance by shooting wide from close range. It was a performance that merely confirmed Hart’s status as the outstanding English goalkeeper of his generation: there is nobody in his class right now.
He saved from Downing from outside the penalty area after 67 minutes, from Luis Suarez on the break after 88 minutes and from an Andy Carroll header three minutes into injury time.
The first half had brought an equally admirable stop from Adam, advancing on goal with great purpose. Pepe Reina was also in good nick for Liverpool, but much of his best work required deployment as an extra outfield player, quick from his line to thwart Sergio Aguero.
So City’s unbeaten league run continues, with a home game against Norwich up next. Few will be calling that a test of character, which makes a change. Almost every match City play these days is imbued with significance, but none more so than this one. In the context of a man’s life it had little relevance, but the league table will record only a difficult point earned away from home. Football is brutal like that. You’ll never walk alone, sings the chorus, but in the darkest moments, plainly, it does not always feel that way.