Is anyone in Britain currently having more fun than Jack Grealish? Two minutes before the end of this 4-1 annihilation of Liverpool at the Etihad Stadium Grealish left the pitch to a standing ovation, met by a tender, oddly sensual full body hug from Pep Guardiola, who for a while just wouldn’t let him go, patting his buttocks, whispering in his ear, hungry for Jack love.
It isn’t hard to see why Guardiola likes Grealish. He has a way of turning mavericks, flashy destroyers, skill poppets into team cogs. And Grealish does things Pep likes, holding the ball as well as anyone, providing control and a safe space on the left. Also, isn’t there just a little bit of nerd-love for Pep’s hype man, his charisma magnet, the coolest kid in the class?
Mainly, though, Grealish had spent the previous 88 minutes playing supremely well. He romped. He feinted and pranced and trotted like a pedigree dressage horse.
It all just looks so easy right now. Since the World Cup Grealish has eight assists and four goals. He lives in the city centre with his girlfriend and his dog. Presumably this bravura lunchtime victory will be celebrated with his now infamous Chinese takeaway mashup. Here is a man whose life is basically the perfect weekend stag do. Maybe, in a time of gloom, Grealish is the hero we need.
At times this was the Jack show. With 26 minutes gone he could be seen sprinting back in pursuit of a Liverpool break, a lone figure, hair flapping behind him, in place to cut out Mohamed Salah’s pass in front of goal and draw huge applause from all four stands. This was a piece of tracking back so heroic it felt almost staged, the kind of tracking back managers watch deep into the night over half a bottle of single malt.
A minute later Grealish was at the other end of the pitch, spinning outside Trent Alexander-Arnold and producing the perfect little rolled pass for Julián Álvarez to score the equaliser.
That duel with Alexander-Arnold was bruising at times, and increasingly traumatic for Liverpool’s right-back. With 70 minutes gone Grealish took the ball on the left flank and skated inside Alexander-Arnold so smoothly that Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, covering 10 yards behind, fell flat on his face.
A minute after that Grealish had a goal of his own, City’s fourth and his first in the league at the Etihad this season. He isn’t a great finisher. Somehow when he shoots this highly technical footballer looks like he’s punting an empty tin of beans along a motorway verge. But this was a lovely goal, Grealish taking Alexander-Arnold out of the game by easing the ball into the path of Kevin De Bruyne, who passed back for Grealish to slide-poke it into the corner.
From the start City looked utterly at ease on a grudgingly mild Manchester afternoon. Before kick-off the stadium PA had played a gabba-speed remix of Love Will Tear Us Apart, while the City mascots Moonchester and Moonbeam did modern dance-style interpretative moves in front of a sign saying Abu Dhabi Find Your Pace. No doubt this was Ian Curtis’s distant dream when he bared his bleeding soul to the world. Maybe someone needs to write some new songs for the corporate stadium age.
Guardiola picked his four centre-back team, City’s tallest and most powerful back five. Against this Jürgen Klopp payed the team Klopp was always going to play, in the only shape Klopp likes. And from the start the midfield energy was heavy, intense, full-body. City dominated both the space and ball early on, winning a series of free-kicks.
And yes, it was Jack. About those free-kicks. Grealish is the joint most fouled player per-minute in the Premier League. Many of these free-kicks are “won”, reward for neat footwork and perfectly timed hitch-kick takeoffs, the legal dive, an act both of self-preservation and game management that Grealish has perfected. And other times, well, it’s probably a bit of a dive.
Liverpool scored the first goal against the head, a wonderful finish from Salah. But Guardiola was already out on his touchline, dressed for the occasion in springtime black, and performing that familiar lunging movement, a man casting off a fly-fishing rod while simultaneously stretching out a tight thigh, a gesture that tells his players to pass wider and longer.
Guardiola knew two things here. First that Liverpool would try to play on the break. And second that City would score by playing those diagonal passes in behind Liverpool’s full-backs. The equaliser came this way, made by a wonderful long pass from Álvarez.
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And really, you do wonder how much longer before this GCSE version of how to beat Liverpool is finally addressed. It feels too easy, goals planned on the back of an envelope three days in advance, like falling for a haymaker every time. Liverpool are meant to be better than this.
Against that City were very, very good. De Bruyne was viciously incisive, Rodri a constant source of control. There is a sense of lightness about all this at just the right moment. City have a maximum of 17 games left from here in three competitions. Would it be such a surprise if they won them all, or all of the ones that matter?
