There was a cloud of blue smoke wafting through the away end at Anfield – a themed flare set off – and while the Everton fans were choking on that pre-kick off, they were choking on their own fury by the time the final whistle shrieked.
The Toffees were eviscerated, vanquished with relish and without mercy by Liverpool, a team that is rapidly evolving into the gleaming, open-throttle machine Jurgen Klopp wants them to be.
You can almost hear it; like a long-dormant Transformer, assembling itself from a pile of scrap metal and razor wire, disparate parts slowly clanking and groaning into a hulking, if a little odd-looking, colossus. All it needs is a little polish, perhaps a few high-grade, purpose-built parts, and it just might rule this league.
This Merseyside derby erupted immediately, a ventre à terre back-and-forth that created multiple early situations where a little more poise and a little less breathlessness would have helped. Kevin Mirallas, in particular, was guilty of slapping at two early shots with abandon, both of which flew wildly off target.
Mamadou Sakho and Romelu Lukaku contested a superbly muscular contest, with Lukaku’s imposing vigour met equally by Sakho’s brawny sprawling. Adam Lallana had a trio of presentable chances in the opening half hour, both airborne and grounded, that he was only barely unable to chorale.
There was, throughout all of this, a dizzying sense of some impending bout of vertigo, as if either team could suddenly stumble and fall down a chasm in which only misery resides, and from which there would be no return. Both of these sides have made an unpleasant habit this season of conceding in bunches, as well as scoring in the same manner, often both in the space of a single 90-minute period.
As it happened – not that this is required for an Everton defensive miscarriage – the Blues’ injuries at the back forced them off the edge and into the inky pit first.
John Stones, suffering through perhaps the most blindingly visible rough patch a young defender has ever had to endure, was nearly stung twice in the opening half hour, appealing for an offside on two occasions when the Liverpool attacker was clearly behind the last line of defence. A tremulous precursor to the madness to come. Stones’ part in Liverpool’s third goal was farcical – the less said about it the better – although he may have been injured at that point.
Liverpool are well-stocked with attacking barbs, but it’s been from an unlikely source that much of their creativity has stemmed this year; James Milner has more assists in 2016 than any other Premier League player, and grabbed two more here, as his crosses were nodded home by Divock Origi and Sakho. Perhaps it isn’t so surprising; in this maximum-energy, forward-looking press that Klopp has instated, the tireless Milner comes up with the ball in the opposition half too often for it to be merely coincidental.
Speaking of Origi, he too is evolving into a potent attacking weapon. A little bigger and stronger than he seems at first, he certainly beat out Lukaku for the most impressive Belgian striker on the pitch. He shoots off the mark with such verve and momentum, there can hardly be a better foil for the velvet-footed Phillipe Coutinho. Origi rose supremely to score his goal, from a standing start, and was so clearly above Stones at the point of contact it was as if the Everton man was standing in a pothole. He is just 21.
Sakho’s goal was, from an Everton point of view, a horrendous concession. A corner had been firmly cleared, and as the ball was recycled by Coutinho back out to Milner, who had taken it, there appeared to be an utter absence of organisational communication between the Everton defenders. Sakho and Dejan Lovren had trotted up to contest the initial set piece, and remained in the box as the ball was regathered. Yet it was only Stones who was tending to the far post, with both Liverpool centre backs lurking there.
Leighton Baines had drifted toward the centre of the box, marking no one in particular, in spite of the fact that Liverpool’s two best aerial threats were behind him. Funes Mori was tracking Origi at the front post, even though Gareth Barry was also covering the Belgian. Sakho’s header was so open, it was laughable.
Everton fans were spitting out bitter curses as the ball pinged into the roof of Joel’s net, just before halftime.
The indiscipline didn’t end there. Five minutes into the second half, a bizarre sequence saw Mori apply full bodily force sickeningly to Origi’s ankle, then boot the ball away after the whistle had gone, and pound at the club crest on his chest as he walked – almost proudly – off the pitch, dismissed with a straight red card.
A steaming, caustic cocktail of recklessness and delusion, and with Gareth Barry removed at halftime, Everton were utterly bedraggled, with worse still to come.
As Roberto Martinez stood, still and clammy, watching, there seems a damaging void of authority somewhere at Everton; smiling, supportive cradling – a hallmark of Martinez’s management style – allows attackers to flourish, but it seems to result in a calamitous penchant for self-destruction at the other end. A harsh word, a kick up the backside, might be the only way to hammer some sense into this Toffees backline.
Martinez is only now creeping toward a decade in management, and is just 42 years old; it would be imprudent to write him off as a candidate for elite management at this point, but he is wearing patience perilously thin on Merseyside.
Liverpool have scored more goals in 2016 than any other Premier League team – 50 in all competitions. There is a ravenousness to Klopp’s team, an attitude instilled no doubt by their tigerish manager. They aren’t entirely in control of their appetite, and they still seem a little awkward, with these asymmetrical, muscly limbs that can they can thump themselves with just as easily as they can their foes. But only Leicester and Spurs have earned more points over the last ten games, and Klopp alone should be able to attract high-calibre talent over the off-season.
Who knows, they may even have Champions League football to sweeten the deal if they can win the Europa League.
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