Wrote this the other day about the game. I don't post very often so wasn't too sure where to put it.
Arthur C. Clarke — 'Magic's just science that we don't understand yet.'
Thomas Tuchel was at a complete loss. What had just occurred in front of his eyes was scarcely believable. Punch drunk, he ran through the evenings events in his mind on repeat. He remembered celebrating wildly on not one, not two but three separate occasions. Looking at the man whose job he had taken, showing him and his supporters exactly why he had been chosen to lead Borussia Dortmund. Surely that final half an hour was a fever dream. His team had ripped Liverpool to shreds on numerous occasions in the first half and should have scored more. Sure, Liverpool created some chances but they were the home team and that is to be expected. He looked again at the scoreboard blinked and rubbed his eyes. He had not misread the first six times, his team had lost. The journalist probed and repeated his question. With his reverie broken he sighed and responded;
"If you expect an explanation, I probably have to disappoint you because an explanation would mean that things are logical.”
This is what Anfield can do to the rational mind. To the best laid plans that men of science see executed almost to perfection. To big names and big reputations. To bookmakers carefully calculated odds and pundits predictions. As a man of science these next few sentences are hard to write.
There is magic in the bricks. In the mortar. In the concrete and steel. In the grass on that famous pitch. In the people that attend, their voices and will to somehow overcome insurmountable odds. On nights like Dortmund something outside of the ordinary and beyond rationality happens. Klopp knew it too;
“We scored, and everyone could see something happening in the stadium. You could see it, hear it, smell it.”
Mourinho has felt it and responded with petulance. Ferguson has felt it and responded with incredulity. Tuchel was flabbergasted.
When he arrived Klopp spoke of how he wanted to feel the atmosphere at Anfield;
” I want to feel it. That's what we're all waiting for, these special moments."
Against Dortmund Klopp created his own special moment, he was the conductor of this finest of symphonies. Lesser men baulk in the face of adversity, hang their head and give in.
Dortmund score twice. Adversity. Klopp responds with encouragement he wills his team on. He provokes reactions from the crowd in attendance with each chance not taken.He never gives in. Even after Dortmund get a third.
Klopp, the team, the crowd and that famous old stadium together conjure up a tale for the ages. Coutinho continues what Divock had started and the magic is fuelled by a guttural roar. Belief.
Tuchel and Dortmund are unmoved. The plan is still in place. Their advantage is clear the path to the semi final is within their grasp.
Then Sakho steps in. And what was whispered on the wind howls an insistent gale. For the next ten minutes Dortmund are in the eye of a magic storm. See the game out. Hold them off. Liverpool create little but the wall of noise is deafening.
Lovren. When the storm hits it is beyond description. Rationality is forgotten.
Tonight, magic reigns supreme.
