CRASH AND BURNED

Running on empty Reds' silent surrender

- by ANDY DUNN

AFTER Alexander Isak had lost Virgil van Dijk and half-volleyed Newcastle United towards a first domestic trophy in 70 years, Mo Salah put his hand on his hips and trudged silently back upfield.

To a man, his team-mates did the same. Even Van Dijk, even the skipper, was unable to raise a shout of defiance or conjure up a gesture of encouragement.

It was an empty response in a largely empty performance - a performance devoid of all the things that have turned the Premier League title race into a Liverpool lap of honour.

Dynamism, determination, imagination, intelligence, physicality, fight.

Yes, if you had told Arne Slot how his first season as Liverpool manager would pan out, he would have signed for it. In a heartbeat, probably.

But he would not have signed for a display as limp as this in a Wembley final.

For a while now, celebrating a tackle, or a block, has been a thing. And we are talking full-blown, fist-pumping celebrations.