A Liverpool Fan's Uncertain Air of Expectancy: Could They Stay Atop the Table?

To be called a fan of Liverpool Football Club can only be compared to riding the world's biggest roller coaster. It's been almost 20 years since we fans last saw the team win the title, and in those years we have had to endure no end of frustrating seasons, and the bitter rivalry with those dastardly Mancunian's, and, needless to say, those London pretenders to the throne.

The trouble is, our club's past success is the benchmark of expectation we have bestowed upon our beloved team. So, is this the season? Can it really be our time?

From the moment Ahmed Hossam Mido struck that long-range effort, it truly showed the most unexpectant Middlesbrough fan how sweet one single moment of inspiration can elate any fan.

So we're losing, 1-0.

Suddenly, those thoughts of walking into work on a Monday morning—with those shoulders sloped, no doubt to a barrage of abuse and laughter—bring back those all-too-familiar memories of falling over those many past hurdles.

Surely all is not lost? After all, we have two of the world's best strikers forming what seems to be a partnership forged in heaven, ever so slowly showing those glimpses of what the future holds (once those goals start flowing).

Instead, we have to leave it to an unlikely goal-scoring hero, in the form of local hero Jamie Carragher (I can recall two Carragher goals, one in the wrong net against United). OK, it may have taken a deflection, but it was what we needed desperately, and at least a point out of the game. Perhaps those shoulders won't be sloping so badly.

It's then that you start to think, "Such is the quality of the other teams in the premier league, that would a loss today have already cost us the title, just two games into the season?" Sadly, that is the reality, and we can ill-afford to drop points now.

Then, just when you think it's all over, with as sweet a touch as has previously been displayed by Mido, up pops our beloved skipper and the other outstanding local inspiration, Mr. Stevie G, they must be able to hear the noise emanating from the Kop all the way over in Beijing.

Surely now there is no way back, not for the deflated Borough...close those eyes, cross those fingers and you have to believe; click the heels togther—there's no place like home, there's no place like home—and then the final whistle blows. Three very, very important points. Heads held high. I can jump around the room singing Steven Gerrard's name, much to the annoyance of my partner. Liverpool are back where they belong, at the top of the table.

This Monday I can gloat, and I then start to wonder, "Should I?" "Is it too late for Arsenal now?" "Surely Spurs are out of the running..." And the list goes on.

It's a long season, and it's going to be a hard slog. I'm only too well-aware, but I, for one, can't wait to see Javier Mascherano back in that Liverpool shirt; although the table doesn't reflect it, we sure have missed him.