The End of the Road

When I got called in for my knee op on Wednesday (earlier than expected) I was delighted, but worried that I might still be in hospital on the Saturday, and thus miss the Premier rugby final in the afternoon and the European Cup final in the evening. i needn't have worried. I was released, to go back home to the safe luxury of BT sport and wall-to-wall finals.

So many times I've sat down for such events, and it's actually been an anti-climax. Last week's cup Final, for instance, was dire. But that was Jose Mourinho, so often grumpy and defensive, as his team serve up yet another so-so performance. But this is the ebullient Jurgen Klopp, lively, energetic, promising "pressing from another planet". and for twenty minutes it was, Real Madrid in increasing disarray as Liverpool tore round them, got the ball of them, threatened to score a goal.  

Too good to last, alas. Mo Salah off and a wonder goal from Bale, but the difference between the two teams was two goals - and two massive blunders from the Liverpool goalkeeper Karius. He apologises afterwards on social media, because that's what you do, but where is there he can go? Will be play again for Liverpool? Will anyone else want to sign him? Will his name ever come up, without someone saying - "Oh yes, Kiev in May 2018." There is nowhere to hide.