By arlington 
Alright folks, grab a cuppa, settled in? Time to walk you through how I tackled today’s big question: what’s Klopp gonna do against Bournemouth? This stuff keeps me up at night, gotta get it down while it’s fresh.
Waking Up to the News Dump
First thing this morning, like clockwork, rolled over and grabbed the phone. Scrolled through the usual suspects, the gossip rags pretending they know something. Half these sites just copy each other anyway, right? Saw the headline splashed everywhere: “Klopp Faces Selection Headache!” Always a headache with this lot.
What everyone seemed to be screaming about:
- Szoboszlai still out? Yeah, sounded like he’d packed his bags for the physio room permanently.
- Salah back? The big one. Egypt said he was crocked, Liverpool whispers said “Maybe? Kinda?” Typical.
- Konate got a knock? Of course he did. Someone breathed on him wrong.
- Endo still away? Off playing Samurai Warrior somewhere, so not an option. Great.
It’s like reading tea leaves made from last week’s leftovers. So much waffle.
Digging for Gold (Probably Just Dirt)
Thought, right, gotta cut through the nonsense. Skipped breakfast proper, just shoved some toast in while hitting refresh on a couple places I sorta halfway trust more than the others. No point checking official stuff, they announce the team an hour before kickoff! Who waits that long? Gotta call it early.
Started piecing together the jigsaw with missing pieces:
- That young kid Bradley – he played alright the other day, didn’t he? Trent’s still out, so might be his time. Scary thought, chucking a kid in.
- Midfield… oh god. Without Szobo and Endo? Looked like it was down to Jones, Mac Allister, and maybe… Gravenberch? Hope the lad brought his running shoes.
- Salah. The elephant in the room. All logic said “rest him,” everyone knows Bournemouth aren’t City. But without Mo… shudders. Brain said no way he starts, gut said Klopp might risk it anyway.
Honestly, half of this is just guessing who looked least shattered in training pics.
My Crackpot Prediction (Fully expecting egg on face)
Right. Took a deep breath and went out on a limb. Here’s what my battered logic spat out:
- Kelleher in goal. Obviously.
- Back four? Bradley for Trent, Konate if he could stand, Van Dijk, and Gomez probably. Robertson? Still fairy dust?
- Midfield disaster zone: Mac Allister trying to glue it together, Gravenberch hopefully remembering what a pass is, and Jones. Thin, mate. Paper thin.
- Up front: Prayed Salah would be benched. Figured Jota through the middle, Diaz on the left, and… Gakpo on the right? Or maybe Nunez left? Messy. Went with Diaz left, Jota middle, Nunez right cos why not? Chaos.
Typed it out thinking “This is gonna be 100% wrong, isn’t it?” But hey, gotta commit.
How It Went Down (Spoiler: Dog ate my homework)
Kept one eye glued to the ticker all day. Finally, the team sheets drop. You know what they actually did?
- SALAH STARTED!? Oh lord. Rolled my eyes so hard. Risk it for a biscuit, I guess?
- Bradley got the nod. Fair play kid, don’t cock it up.
- Jones out wide? That was different. Mac Allister deep. Gravenberch bench. Nunez up top with Jota left? Madness!
My brilliant prediction? Utterly shredded. Got maybe 3 names exactly right in the starting XI? Maybe?
The Absolute Carnage Afterwards
Watched the game, obviously. Salah lasted 60 minutes then hobbled off. Probably should’ve seen that coming from a mile away. Then it all went sideways. Defence looked like they’d never met. Diaz bailed us out? Nunez’s first touch was… well, donkey. Chaos. Absolute chaos. Won? Yeah, somehow. But Christ.
And then! My bloody dog saw me stressing and decided to celebrate the win by trying to eat the notebook where I’d scribbled my prediction. Corner of page 3 is now soggy pulp. Guess he thought it tasted bad. Can’t blame him. Point is, prediction was rubbish, team looked unstable, dog destroyed the evidence. Another glorious day trying to be Klopp’s ghost selector. Pointless, but fun.
