Wimbledon: Sullivan, Cunningham, Kimble, Jones, Earle (Fear
81), Holdsworth, Gayle, Perry, McAllister, Ardley, Euell.
Subs Not Used: Heald, Reeves, Jupp, Clarke.
Booked: Jones.
Goals: Euell 43, Holdsworth 55.
Liverpool: James, Kvarme, McAteer, Wright, McManaman, Collymore,
Redknapp, Ruddock, Berger (Owen 57), Thomas, Bjornebye.
Subs Not Used: Barnes, Harkness, Warner, Carragher.
Goals: Owen 74.
Att: 20,016
Ref: P A Durkin (Portland).
Lifeless Liverpool waved the white flag of championship surrender as Manchester United were gifted the title with two games to spare. Roy Evans had demanded his side go out in a blaze of glory by putting some pressure on Alex Ferguson's men. Instead they virtually threw the towel in until it was far too late with an abject display which could hardly have been worse. Only David James, the butt of so much cruel humour, and teenage substitute Michael Owen could emerge with any credit from a performance that mocked Anfield's rich traditions before time started running out.
And even the much-taunted James had to take a little responsibility for the Jason Euell opener that spelled the beginning of the end. James started to come out when Alan Kimble floated over a 43rd-minute free-kick. But he then stopped and with his defenders doing passable statue impersonations was helpless as Euell's downward header bounced between his legs and into the net.
Patrik Berger, a Czech firing blanks, missed a great chance to level in injury time but Liverpool's title world ended with a a whimper rather than a bang as they subsided after the break. The killer blow came 11 minutes after the restart, when Dean Holdsworth stole in to thump home a header from Neal Ardley's right-wing cross. That was the cue for Evans to send on young Owen for Berger, the England youth ace breathing new life into the Reds' championship corpse by steering home from Stig Bjornebye's pass 16 minutes from time. It began their best spell of the night, with Wimbledon keeper Neil Sullivan finally forced to earn his corn.
But on a night when they needed to break that depressing run of only one win in 12 league meetings with the Dons, Evans' side could not even get back on terms and it meant championship celebrations again at Old Trafford. The absence of the suspended Robbie Fowler put the onus on Stan Collymore and Berger to take up where they had left off against Spurs, but from the outset their minds seemed to be elsewhere. Selhurst Park's bumpy pitch did not help, yet Liverpool plainly lacked conviction, a display hinting they had already given up the championship ghost.
Not that Wimbledon were much better, and indeed the opening half-hour saw a litany of misplaced passes, enlivened only by a booking for Vinnie Jones, perhaps playing his penultimate match for the home side, for handball. It was Wimbledon who were the first to mount a real attack, Holdsworth's header clawed away by James.
Collymore then broke into a partial sweat, a sweet turn and shot forcing Neil Sullivan into action, before Euell struck two minutes from the break. Despite that, Evans' men should have levelled before the interval, Berger somehow contriving to miss the target altogether then Jason McAteer's cross found him unmarked eight yards out. It should have been the spark for a renewed effort, yet they were lucky to still be in the contest within three minutes of the restart as the Dons laid siege. Holdsworth blasted over when well-placed, before Jones knocked Kimble's deep centre back across goal for Robbie Earle to meet with the fiercest of volleys.
But James threw himself into the path to block, following that up by diving to his right to gather when Marcus Gayle got his head to Kimble's resulting corner. Even James, however, could do nothing when Holdsworth, finding a horrendous amount of space between Neil Ruddock and Mark Wright, hit the target from Neal Ardley's excellent right-wing cross. That, effectively, was that, another championship campaign coming to an inglorious end, not the slightest shred of self-belief about the Liverpool display.
Evans sought to introduce some of the passion his men needed when young Owen, already labelled 'The New Robbie Fowler' came on for a debut in place of the woeful Berger. It was a debut marked in the grand manner, the 18-year-old racing onto Bjornebye's pass to glide home in a manner reminiscent of the Toxteth hitman. Suddenly, but far too late, Liverpool were interested; McManaman setting up McAteer for a shot blocked by Sullivan, and then Owen's shot striking McManaman but drifting inches wide of the far post. Evans, now urging his men forward as the Dons rocked, will have been left wondering why it had taken so long for them to get going.
James kept it going with a great stop to deny Euell as they were hit on the break, and in the last minute Owen might have made an even bigger impact as he forced a diving save from Sullivan. But Liverpool, for all their bowed heads at the end, only had themselves to blame. The did not deserve to take it any further than this.
United delight as Liverpool finally
falter
By Henry Winter
Wimbledon (1) 2 Liverpool (0) 1
THE Manchester United supporters masquerading as Wimbledon fans took immense delight in the Dons' defeat of Liverpool at Selhurst Park last night. Liverpool's failure to take a point, and Newcastle United's inability to win at West Ham United, ensured that United retained their Premiership title with two games remaining.
Headed goals from Jason Euell and Dean Holdsworth proved too much for Liverpool. If there could be one consolation for Liverpool it was in the form of Michael Owen, 17, who scored on his debut and is clearly destined for a healthy career on this evidence. Introduced midway through the second half, Owen galvanised Liverpool's attack but his solitary strike proved insufficient.
Liverpool fans now find themselves in the strange, possibly unique position of willing Alex Ferguson's champions to victory tomorrow night. Newcastle visit Old Trafford in search of the second Champions' League place which Liverpool themselves have been hoping for.
Wimbledon, so often a thorn in Liverpool's side, were hardly ideal opponents for the men from Anfield. Well prepared by Joe Kinnear and Terry Burton, the Londoners' constant hustling and aerial threat gave the visitors moments of real concern in a first period which culminated in Euell's headed goal.
Set-piece plays and chasing down the channels are Wimbledon specialities, tactics they pursued enthusiastically as they examined the strength of Liverpool's back four.
Roy Evans's reversion to a more orthodox 4-4-2 is not simply designed to ensure the full-backs cannot be caught out of position, so reducing the number of crosses flooding in. It also helps Liverpool propel the ball forward more quickly, midfeld occasionally being bypassed as they attempted to unleash the pacy Stan Collymore.
The Liverpool forward almost broke through after seven minutes but found Chris Perry too assiduous a marker.
A half of limited technical merit soon saw Vinnie Jones in the book for attempting to punch the ball past James, the nearest Jones will ever get to sharing a trait with Diego Maradona. Ignoring the Hand of Taff, James enjoyed a decent start to the game, making a good catch from a Neal Ardley cross as Wimbledon continued probing.
Midway through the half Liverpool pieced together some moves of their own but were denied either by poor final balls, an unsympathetic surface or simply the Dons' defensive organisation. Following good approach work by Stig Inge Bjornebye and Steve McManaman, Patrik Berger thought he had won a penalty when he tumbled under a challenge from Brian McAllister. Paul Durkin was unmoved.
The game stuttered from end to end. Wimbledon suddenly linked well in the 27th minute when Euell flicked Kenny Cunningham's right-wing cross on to Dean Holdsworth, whose close-range header brought an athletic tip-over from James. There was a warning in there.
Liverpool were under pressure. So was the ball, which was soon swapped.
A brief flurry from Jamie Redknapp and Collymore soon evaporated and the half appeared to be heading for a desultory finish. But four minutes from the break, Liverpool conceded a slack goal, one that encapsulated their defensive failings of recent weeks.
Ardley's left-wing free-kick curled into James's area of responsibility and on to the far post where Euell, rising high, headed across Liverpool's keeper.
Berger's subsequent near miss from Jason McAteer's cross simply deepened Liverpool's sense of frustration. When the teams departed the field at half-time, Mark Wright engaged James in a deep, one-sided conversation.
Liverpool's woes continued to worsen. Although James produced a magnificent save, somehow stretching his frame to push away Robbie Earle's fierce volley, the respite was brief. Twelve minutes after the restart, Wimbledon headed further clear when Holdsworth's forehead powered Ardley's right-wing cross past James.
Wimbledon's supporters could not contain themselves, borrowing a chant from Barnsley and chorusing "it's just like watching Brazil". Alan Brazil maybe, such was the confident way Holdsworth finished.
Something desperate was required. Evans removed Berger for Owen, whose pace and desire for involvement began to worry Wimbledon. With 16 minutes remaining, the teenager scored, racing on to Bjornebye's pass before calmly sliding the ball past Neil Sullivan.
Liverpool, to their credit, almost secured the point they required when Redknapp's long shot was fumbled by Sullivan, who quickly recovered possession as Owen dived in.
Six minutes from time Owen's cross-shot was missed by McManaman from the closest of ranges.
Then, right at the death, James excelled himself with a fine block from Euell. And there was more, Owen curling in another effort saved by Sullivan. Liverpool, at least, finished with a touch of pride.