Liverpool FC: An Ode to Steven Gerrard, the Greatest Midfielder of His Time

The peals of "Liv-er-pool, Liv-er-pool" course around the fringes of Anfield, rising like a storm when the Reds launch upon the attack.

One of the oldest and most recognizable footprints of English Premiership posterity—the song older than the stadium itself, and the sentiment behind it inherent since the Merseyside club's baptism in 1892—seem to resound a bit more strongly when a certain No. 8 graces the pitch.

The man whom French footballing legend Zinedine Zidane once called "the greatest player in the world" changes the culture of any game he enters, adding a touch of class to the occasion with the remarkable regularity.

That is the mark of the great ones, after all. You return home from a match in that inimitable daze—your mind still reeling from the brilliance you witnessed, because you realize deep down that this feeling doesn't come around too often.

It's Hugh Jackman in The Prestige returning home after watching Christian Bale perform the first spellbinding rendition of "The Disappearing Man."

Befuddlement. Speechlessness. Unable to do anything more than simply reflect upon the wonder he'd just seen.

The Gerrards of this world are not a dime a dozen. Perhaps it's better that way.

There are the deceptive turns of pace, the sublime bits of technical skill, the subtle bits of guile and wizardry, the superb vision and the prowess to pick out the foraging runs of teammates with perfectly weighted, searching balls.

Eric Cantona, footballer-turned-philosopher, speaks of "Football as a noble art." In watching Gerrard, you'd have to agree with the sentiment.

There is a certain beauty—akin to what one feels when standing in front of a masterpiece painting—when watching Gerrard play. You're brought to the edge of your seat with every touch on the ball; each gest a brushstroke on his personal canvas.

There are the violent hashmarks—remember that screamer against Olympiakos? If not look it up on YouTube—interspersed among the more calming passes and touches, all blending together to form a masterpiece. How we missed this player.

His match tonight against Newcastle United summed up his brilliance perfectly. Coming on as a second-half substitute, perhaps it was only fitting that he provided the third and decisive goal on the night.

The angle was tight, but his left-footed slide-rule finish past keeper Tim Krul was impeccable. The reaction from the Anfield crowd said it best—that wonderful roar emanating from a fan base who realizes that their aging hero, "Captain Fantastic" for so many years, is reaching his end.

Now is the time to savor the spectacular that, oftentimes, only he can provide.

But thankfully, even for football fans who don't support Liverpool (like yours truly), Gerrard isn't done yet. He still possesses the ability to conjure magic sparks out of nothingness. The man makes any game better. It doesn't take an expert to see that.

After such a grueling 2011—during which the 'pool skipper has battled through a gauntlet of injury and infection and somehow managed to come out intact—it is wonderful to see him growing ever so steadily back to his best.

The Premiership shines a little brighter, its class just that touch more classier, when he figures into the equation.

And I'm not ready to see it end just yet. And to our benefit, it appears that Gerrard is in accordance with that.