It is English football’s Clásico, Klassiker, Classique. The north-west classic, if you will. Use flat vowels. The TV companies are revving up the performance poets, fizzing pints of lager to denote working-class roots are being artfully placed on unpolished pub tables, regional accents exaggerated as the hype machine revs up. The latest renewal of Liverpool v Manchester United finds the historic rivals in less than classic form. That United are playing like a drain is a state of being near-permanent since the year 2013 when twerking was a dance craze, phablets were a must have and “live blog” entered the Oxford English Dictionary (whatever happened to those? – Football Daily Ed). It has been Liverpool riding a rising tide since then.

Until now. Yes, after losing three matches in succession, Arne Slot’s champions have entered the realm of the essence of crisis club, their manager veering dangerously into bald fraud territory. Liverpool fans find themselves scrolling longingly through Jürgen Klopp’s InstaChat account, pawing at pics of their former manager enjoying games of padel with Gabriela Sabatini. They might be inconsolable by the time Klopp’s social media afterlife continues with his appearance on LinkedIn deity Steve Bartlett’s Diary of a...