Same north London stadium, same opponents, same outcome, same trophy, we’ve been here before, but it feels different this time around.
Two years ago, when Liverpool beat Chelsea in the League Cup final, while it was a joyous moment, it almost felt like a vague triviality, a distraction from bigger horizons for Jurgen Klopp’s Liverpool version 1.0, as it moved toward its zenith, the two biggest of which went narrowly out of reach.
For version 2.0, it feels far more substantial. This time it meant everything.
Of course, Sunday came laced with the powerful emotions of it being the first part of Jurgen Klopp’s endgame; win or lose, it was always going to be his last League Cup game in charge of Liverpool, and potentially the final time he would lead us into Wembley combat.
Klopp can say as many times as he likes that it’s not about him, but while there is merit and truth in this line of deflection, whether he likes it or not it is about him to a degree, because part of being a component of a collective is that you’re one of us, and if you’re one of us, then it is on some level about you too.
It’s about all of us. We are who we are, because of us. It’s all about the possibilities.
At Anfield South, against the Billion Pound Bottle Jobs of Stamford Bridge, it was all about Klopp’s Kids. It was all about a back up goalkeeper who could walk into the number one spot at virtually any other Premier League club and look the part.
It was all about an ocean of Red support that provided an awe-inspiring soundtrack that no other set of fans can replicate. It was all about a lad from Northern Ireland that looks like he was to the L4 manner born, a lad who has had to shake himself through the death of his father, and it was all about a calm as you like match-winning central defender and a couple of other defensive superstars.
It was also about a Greek Scouser who simply loves breaking Chelsea hearts beneath an overpriced arch. It was about our Japanese warrior of a midfielder, and the Argentine visionary he shares the centre ground with.
It was about a Dutch lad too, whose afternoon was ended prematurely by the man who knocked back a move to Liverpool last summer and is meant to be worth around £100 million more than our magnificent number three.
And it was all about the man who came into the fray on the half hour to put in 90-plus minutes of football, while probably having sat on the sidelines during the opening third of the game wondering if he’ll ever get a start on an occasion like this.
Even more, it was about a kid and his boundless energy that we picked up from Fulham, who isn’t yet 21, but has turned out with a Liverbird on his chest over 100 times already.
It was about a Colombian fella whose parents were kidnapped not so long ago, and another Dutchman who struck the post and will go on to be as integral to this club’s future as his predecessors have been to our past.
It isn’t just about those that took an active role either, it’s all about a mad Uruguayan bloke who belted his way down the steps and hurdled the advertising hoardings, swiftly followed by that talented Hungarian lad, both of whom almost knocked a limping Scouse kid out of the way, in their haste to join the celebrations.
It was all about the other Scouser on our injury list too, and the Egyptian King that also wasn’t fit enough to play, oh and that Portuguese slotter too, just as it is all about every player we have that can’t currently kick a ball around, but has made a contribution to who we are.
Wherever you watched it, it was all about you and the feelgood factor that you add to the recipe, it was all about Klopp’s coaching staff and the celebratory limbs that were on display as far as the eye could see, it was all about Red legends of the past sat in the stands reliving the times of their lives and learning a little of what it felt like to watch them do great things.
And it’s about all of those people out there who aren’t even Liverpool supporters but can’t help but get swept up in the loving embrace of what Klopp has created at Anfield.
This is all about everything that surrounds and binds this collective together; never mind the campaign to see Jedi aficionados recognised as a confirmed religion, we’ve been doing our brand of hocus pocus since 1892 lads, get yourselves to the back of the queue.
One trophy obtained, three more to play for, running out of fully functioning players, surely something must give somewhere, but do you know what, this time it doesn’t really matter.
This Klopp version 2.0 is all set to sail for years to come if we can find the right man to take the tiller, as Klopp waves us off from the shore this summer. So yes, it is all about Klopp too and he’ll just have to live with that.
These are the days my friend.
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