It is a week since Liverpool ended their 30-year title drought and as they prepare to face Manchester City as champions, I am yet to unhook myself from the intoxicating red rush of eulogising articles, videos, podcasts and social media content I have been mainlining ever since. If it is going to be another 30 years until the next title win I am taking in everything, even grainy footage of Jürgen Klopp gegenpressing the hell out of a dance floor like a man six tequilas into his daughter’s wedding reception.
I should point out that, Like the vast majority of Liverpool’s estimated 700 million supporters around the world, I am not a Liverpudlian. Indeed, I grew up in Wollongong, New South Wales, and now live in Melbourne, Victoria. About as…