Barely 12 hours after watching his Liverpool side marmalise Tottenham at Anfield, overturning a first-leg deficit in a manner akin to the Incredible Hulk idly tossing a heavy goods vehicle out of his path, Arne Slot was back and looking fresh-faced as he met the press. In his first season in England, the Liverpool manager has now won 29 of his 37 games, and has led his team to a Wembley final, with three other trophies very much still in play. Faced with the unenviable task of replacing the beloved Jürgen Klopp, he is performing better than one of the greatest managers in Liverpool history. How does it feel, Arne? “Pleasant,” he trilled, before swiftly moving on to the tough fixture list ahead. This is very much Slot’s style in a nutshell – if Klopp played the role of an erratic, intense but brilliant general on the touchline, his successor is every inch the affable, urbane diplomat. Were it not for his exquisitely lacquered dome reflecting the floodlights, he might simply blend into the background entirely (by the way, ever seen a picture of Arne Slot with hair? Here you go. Nice kit as well). But while his persona may be mild-mannered and unassuming, the team he has forged at ludicrous speed is anything but. It’s strange to think that it wasn’t until the 51st minute of Thursday’s game, when Mohamed Salah thrashed his penalty into the top corner, that Liverpool actually went ahead on aggregate, and the game wasn’t safe until Dominik Szoboszlai got their third goal 15 minutes from time. Because in reality, the jig was up for Spurs as soon as the second or third red wave hit them in the opening 10 minutes. Admittedly still nursing a number of first-team injuries, this was still a meek effort from the visitors, who chose an odd moment to try and park the proverbial bus in front of goal, failing to produce a shot on target all night. Even their own manager, Ange Postecoglou, was a bit confused. “Our intent was to play the same way we play every week,” he barked. “We were trying to put pressure on them and unsettle them but it never really materialised.” In fairness, who has managed to unsettle Liverpool this season? Only Nuno’s Nottingham Forest have inflicted a defeat of any real consequence on them, and that was back in mid-September. In Bigger Cup, they beat Milan, Leverkusen and Real Madrid with insouciant ease. The question is: having won pretty much everywhere else, can Slot’s more radio-friendly brand of heavy metal football cut it on an overcast, breezy Sunday afternoon in the West Country? Because next up in the FA Cup, it’s a trip to Plymouth, just one of many treats in a tantalising fourth-round draw. Yes, the ghost of Wayne Rooney may still stalk the terraces of Home Park and yes, Argyle are bottom of the second tier with its leakiest defence. But that old Cup magic means you just never know. Or maybe, just like last night, you do. Slot appears immune to the usual pitfalls of English football and in his understated way, is achieving things that border on the unprecedented. Pleasant, indeed. |