No forward steps against Liverpool but Sheff Utd begin to answer call of the Wilder
Sheffield United 0-2 Liverpool (Van Dijk 37′, Szoboszlai 90+4′)
BRAMALL LANE — Chris Wilder is back at Sheffield United and this time it’s personal. Whether this is an inspired call back to recent-ish storied history – if you ignore that bit and what happened next – or simply a shot to nothing by a club with little to spend and, increasingly, little left to lose, we must wait to find out. Wilder is not a magician, that much is clear. Liverpool are still better than Sheffield United.
There was certainly a change in energy off the pitch, a new gusto to those at Bramall Lane who were told via PA system before the game that “their support can make the difference”. Given how Paul Heckingbottom and his players had performed until now, it’s at least worth a go. By the end they were claiming that the Premier League was corrupt. Hmmm.
Wilder is a pragmatic, earthy manager whose principles are simple and whose formation was once innovative. There were not many overlapping central defenders on Wednesday, but challenges were more fierce and sprints more intense than at the Massacre of Turf Moor. That is a bar so low that the ants are ducking to squeeze under.
Sheffield United’s great problem this season is that they do the basics less effectively than anyone else. That will be top of Wilder’s mental list and he has new evidence with which to beat those who have familiar faces and those he will soon get to know well. As far as penalty-box presences go, Virgil van Dijk is as subtle as a James Corden comedy routine. He had at least five yards of space in which to meet a Trent Alexander-Arnold corner.
Ten minutes after half-time, Cody Gakpo repeated the trick and so did Sheffield United. This time, Wes Foderingham produced an astounding reaction save with a granite hand. On the touchline, Wilder held out his hands and pursed his lips, an expression that said: who remembers what was said in the dressing room?
What did for Heckingbottom was the general sense of ennui that comes when watching Sheffield United this season. Those who marched to this stadium and now do so in a trudging march – even when it’s not bitterly cold – can take being outclassed. But they watched a team that seemed to be watching matches happen with their noses pressed against the glass. They have played witness to their own humiliation.
There was some of that here too. Liverpool were sluggish and grubby in possession. They made mistakes that allowed counter attacks and they were surprisingly slow in creating chances against the worst defence in the league. And then any accumulated pressure slips because you fail to organise at a set piece and play too slow in the opposition half. The quality gap can be defeated, as a one-off. But not like this.
Wilder will believe he can provide the antidote, in time, or at least a salve to stop the worst of the stinging feeling. If you can’t win the beauty contest or the technical exhibition, the least that you can do is organise an arm wrestle. Wilder is aiming for exactly that, a blend of muscle and muscle memory.
