ON THE WINGS OF DESIRE

City's total domination of English football continues.

Those that decried the self-styled one-sided end of football, this morning whoop a three-horse title race, alive and kicking with possibilities and interest as we stagger into the final furlong.

The Manchester City juggernaut ruining football evidently has a slow puncture. There are other clubs in the Premier League after all. Join the queue of Artetulated trucks, City.

Perhaps becoming immortal wasn't all that it was fluffed up to be. City, down from the skies, want to feel what it's like to be fallible, sense the closeness of danger, breathe the fear. In Wim Wenders' seminal film The Wings of Desire, the theme of the epic of peace is developed. The shedding of immortality allows angels to feel the everyday stuff we feel: fear, longing, loneliness, self-doubt. In exploring limits, we find out about ourselves.   

Seen through the prism of another white hot skirmish with history, self-doubt and hoodoo at Anfield, a point for City was not at all bad, despite the lesson in current limits it may have given us. How it came about provided us with different angles. Deservedly ahead at half time after managing to control Liverpool's occasional forays, it became clear after the break, that either side could win it once Nathan Ake's impoverished back pass and Ederson's jerky reaction to the imminent danger had brought Liverpool level. 

City were at turns lucky to stay level and unlucky not to snatch a late winner, finding both bar and post in the way of Foden's involuntary attempt and Doku's precise left footer.

City have seldom hit the heights this season, at times cruising, at others obviously saving energy, but the rocket-shaped annihilations have been conspicuous by their absence and the big game trampling of rivals has not occurred. With Kevin De Bruyne and Erling Haaland having been absent and now obviously still finding their rhythm, the side has not always performed to the best of is abilities. Yesterday, with Rodri being hurried out of his stride, it took the introduction of the willing Mateo Kovacic to stem the tide and start City rolling towards the Kop. Doku too gave Liverpool's right flank something to think about late on.

While De Bruyne's passing range has temporarily deserted him and Haaland's instinctive finishing has lost its instinct, others are stepping in. Foden, although chased out of his rhythm yesterday, has been magnificent for most of the season. Walker has chased up and down with a fervour only someone trying to forget about things could manage. 

With Klopp's announcement of a summer departure has come a renewed wave of effort from his players, intent on marking the end of his Anfield reign with something special. Against this kind of onslaught, City held firm, if at times with a lack of control that has become customary in many games this season. That City's levels of excellence are down on last season is hardly a surprise. How do you follow winning the Treble? How does one better being World Club Champions? The quality remains, the shapes and passing lines are still in tact, but there is at times a slight loss of intensity, of hunger and that is only to be expected.

Arsenal have that hunger. Only being on the outside looking in can foster the kind of frenzy you feel watching games at the Emirates this season. Sometimes it feels counterproductive, as if they might overexcite themselves into a jelly-like state, as happened last season. Liverpool have been given hunger by the whiff of End of Empire. 

Against those two fundamentals, City must carry the fight to the end of the season. It is perhaps an even greater test than last season when all was unfolding before them. Now they must find the fight and the focus to merely hold on to what they already have.     

"Imagine how angels would look at us..."