Can you imagine the anguished cries? The tears of fear? The sheer fetid stench of dread and terror emanating from the deathly hallows of Old Trafford and the Bridge? Unfinished business is back on the agenda once more. We shall rise and become the force we were always destined to be. Once more our name will echo around the lands, peasants will cower, lords and ladies will flee, a force unstoppable and merciless will sweep over pastures fair and rip asunder all who dare stand in its way. The trophies shall return, the glory days of yesteryear will be memories no more but a birth right, a reality. We shall again be as untouchable as we were that dizzying night in Istanbul. Europe shall tremor as an overwhelming throng of battle hardened men lead by the king of general’s, blitz all in its path.
Premier league crowns fall effortlessly by the way side, Kings of Europe, Kings of the World they shall proclaim us. A symbol of class and righteousness, one all aspire to. The only true football club, a club with the loyalist of fans, a club with a master tactician at its helm, a tactician not afraid to say it how it is, one with a weakness for bullies and one who sees them for what they are. We shall once more be the benchmark that all teams, past, present and future shall be matched to, a benchmark that they shall all fail to near.
Liverpool Football Club and the glorious Benitez, hand in hand, arm in arm, vanquishing all foes, cleaving in twain all those who dare oppose us. We can dream lads but we must also see sense, this dream is about to become a reality. Fate tore us apart and now it has sewn us back together. The plague, the transatlantic pestilence that once sapped everything from us is no more, you singlehandedly removed that from this club, even though it cost you your job and tarnished your reputation in the eyes of the nonbelievers. Oh where for art thou now oh foolish non-believers and naysayers? Cowering behind your sofa's? You forced Rafa from us as you realised it was the only way we could be stopped, but now he shall return and there will be no second reprieve for you this time.
Welcome home sweet prince, it’s time to lay a few ghosts to rest and bury those who have failed to overthrow us. Our mighty name is in the safest of hands with you at our rudder, we cannot fail with you and we shall not fail you once more. I cried tears of sadness when you were ripped from us, when you fell on your own sword for us. You were the second coming, sacrificing yourself for the masses, for the greater good. Now I cry tears of sheer joy for your impending return. There is a God, his name art Rafa.