City and Liverpool ooze brilliance as race for Premier League title intensifies

At 18:22 on a drafty Sunday evening in Manchester the race for the Premier League title remained unaltered. Ninety-four and a bit minutes of enthralling, hypnotic, breathless football ended with four goals, 848 stylish completed passes, and a point apiece for both Pep Guardiola’s Manchester City and Jurgen Klopp’s Liverpool. Two masters of their work, gesticulating and roaring with fiery intent from their own chalked squares, embracing each other in a mighty hand slap and hug at the game’s conclusion. Once mesmeric blurs of light blue and red now scattered in a heap on the worn turf. Rest thy weary legs, there’s far more work to be done.

With 5 minutes gone the imperious Kevin De Bruyne had already flung his City cohort into the lead, drilling the ball in off the far post via a large slice of Jöel Matip’s leg. Ecstasy echoes, limbs flail; the Ethiad Stadium was alive. In his post match presser Klopp labelled this brutal battle of wit and zeal a boxing match: two heavyweights of the sporting world delivering supreme blows to the head, yet neither would surrender. Just 8 minutes after the initial eruption and it was the turn of the relentless Diogo Jota, caressing the ball into Ederson’s corner after a dazzling, delicate Trent Alexander-Arnold cutback.

Should we expect anything less? These are two of the finest attacking sides on the planet, pressing high, pressing hard up the field as they hunt in packs. Defences left exposed, perhaps it was to the surprise of a vocal 53,000 onlookers that the next tilt of the seesaw would arrive by virtue of a set-piece: the ghostly Gabriel Jesus timing his run with sheer intellect, Alexander‑Arnold now chasing shadows as the forward steered the ball in off the underside of Alisson’s crossbar. City were shredding Liverpool’s high defensive line. Answerless, powerless to the cause, De Bruyne crafted the offensive push with delicious elan.

As the half time whistle reverberated around an arena charged with a deafening buzz, it was the face of Guardiola that shined a brighter glow. His band of Hollywood footballers strolled off with a deserved lead. They were sharper than Liverpool, more direct than Liverpool. Past meetings between these foes have seen the Merseysiders more reserved, less distinct. There are few sterner opponents, but that thought process seemed to dwindle soon after the first kicks of the afternoon as all twenty-two on the field came frothing out of the traps. Turn the ball over. Send it to the wing. Push forward as a unit.

When gifted the freedom Liverpool will dominate the ball. In the opening period on Sunday they had to choose their moments wisely. On numerous occasion could City have extended their advantage, regularly repelled by that smothering red ring of Virgil Van Dijk and Matip. You could see with a pure vividness Guardiola’s swirling storm within when his fifteen minute lecture had proved futile just 50 seconds into the second half. Sadio Mané sweeping the ball high into the netting, he is still a world class finisher, Kyle Walker is still a defensive liability, Liverpool are still breathing.

Since August 2018 these clubs have both featured 145 times in the Premier League. Total points has City at 339, and Liverpool at 338. At initial glance this stat appears absurd, almost inconceivable to the naked eye. But on the luscious lawn the implausible became lucid, simple Sunday viewing turned into a thrashing rollercoaster of elation and emotion. More throbbing hearts from the away end as the familiar Raheem Sterling slips the dash of sky blue into a crazed frenzy, only for it to be ruled out for offside by VAR. Margins so fine this would have been City’s afternoon had it been played a few years ago. How important this technology thingy is, eh.

Guardiola claimed his City side gave Liverpool “a life” after they could only muster a 2-2 draw. He’s probably correct. This exhausting bout saw the swinging pendulum settle in the middle, though so easily could it have swayed in the dying light of day with the ball at Riyad Mahrez’s boots, cutting inside the visiting defence with knifelike precision as Allison stood yards from his line. All it needed was some composure, someone to tell him that this moment will not determine the eventual champions. Of course, it likely would have, but that’s not the sort of thing one needs telling after skying the ball shockingly over the bar.

A colosseum on its feet, hands placed onto bewildered heads, we must wait for that next slip in the fault line, for the ripples to ravage the powerhouses. Liverpool depart a point richer without having to rely upon the magnetic feet of Mohamed Salah, or the whooshing flash of a roving Luis Diaz. City, too, were not at their best. In the final third Jesus may have prevented more goals than scored them, but that is testament to a masterly midfield that churns out more chances than the UK Parliament.

As both sets of supporters filtered from the Ethiad scratching their domes, questioning whether this was a good result, the answer will become clear soon enough. For the rest of a football-loving nation there could have been no result more superior. On parchment City’s run-in is simpler. Liverpool welcome United and Tottenham Hotspur to Anfield, City travel to Leeds United and West Ham. Points to be dropped, places to be gained.

But before all of that is a Champions League quarter-final second leg until these two meet again at Wembley for the FA Cup semi-final on Saturday. Then they return to the domestic chaos, shattered and severed, for seven more entrancing, engrossing, spellbinding Premier League fixtures. A murmuring sea of ‘experts’ debate who may win, who should win, who wants to win. Well, perhaps it’s best to simply leave them to it, and just appreciate this unsettled fight between two of the finest sides to ever grace our pitches.