Liverpool gave us beautiful, flowing Champions League soccer ... then they gave Roma hope

Aren’t Liverpool fun? Aren’t Liverpool generous? From about the 20th minute of their Champions League semi-final against Roma, through to the substitution of Mo Salah on 75 minutes, they played attacking football with joyous and thrilling abandon. They scored five, they created at least as many chances again, and they made Roma look old, tired, and frankly bedraggled. They were given space, and they cavorted.

Then Mohamed Salah went off, Liverpool relaxed, and Roma scored twice. From 5-0 to 5-2. From a total thumping to a merely massive one; from unalloyed perfection to something with just a tiny hint of impurity. Two goals. Two away goals — what wonderful things that stupid rule does — so just the three needed back in Rome. It’s not exactly on, but it’s a lot less off than it was at nil. Those late goals have kept the tie alive.

They haven’t changed the outcome. [Probably.] Liverpool will [almost certainly] go through to the final because Roma essentially need a miracle, and they already had one of those in the last round. Performing two miracles is so rare and strange and special that it’s literally the test for sainthood. At least the Pope will be nearby if they do pull it off.

But without those two goals, we wouldn’t have had to crowbar “probably” and “almost certainly” into that last paragraph. The tie would be dead, buried, decomposed, and well on the way to creating wonderfully nutritious soil in a highly localised area. This would be wonderful news for Liverpool and their fans, of course, who could get on with planning their trip to Kyiv. It would be pretty bleak for anybody who likes Champions League semifinals and wants to watch more of them.

The key, perhaps, is hope. Hope on both sides, and also in the middle. Hope for Roma that they can do something ludicrous; hope for Liverpool that they’ve basically got this. And hope for the neutral that something entertaining will emerge from that tension. You don’t need a lot of it, and Roma have almost none. But even in trace amounts, it is an animating force. It turns football games from “some people doing some exercise” into events that tingle with potential. And it means that Roma coach Eusebio di Francesco can say things like ...

... without sounding entirely like a man who has uncoupled from the universe.

Obviously, this [likely] isn’t going to end well for Roma or the neutral. If a tiny glimmer of hope was conjured into being by Diego Perotti’s assured penalty, then [chances are] it will be kicked to death by the dancing feet of Salah, then sent on its way with a rueful smile and a muted shrug. Roma are going to have to attack, after all. Liverpool will get to play on the break. This is not going to end well for the home team.

But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it could happen. There is, thanks to those two late goals, just enough space between the surety of foresight and the infinity of chaos to keep the whole thing interesting. So, thanks Liverpool! You truly are too good to us.