Liverpool send out Premier League warning.

Liverpool send out Premier League warning.

It is hard to believe that the last time Liverpool won a League title the Berlin wall had just come tumbling down, Margaret Thatcher was in her last year of her Prime Ministerial tenure and a club who had become accustomed to winning League titles were now struggling to win anything. In 1990 England had just reached their first World Cup semi final since the iconic year of 1966, a young rebel by the name of Paul Gascoigne had reduced the whole country to tears and the club who play their football at Anfield would celebrate their last League championship victory in the now defunct First Division.

But now Liverpool are back to their irrepressible winning ways and after their convincing 3-1 victory over current Premier League rivals Manchester City thoughts turned to yet more trophy gathering. Never have the odds on Liverpool finally regaining a trophy which they used to claim as theirs by divine right seem more realistic and plausible. It almost feels as if they seem destined to reclaim a trophy which they felt they were entitled to after all these years. Liverpool haven't won the League title for almost 30 years and that hurts on Merseyside.

Then there followed the fleet footed, twinkling toed, dainty and dexterous John Barnes, the calming influence of Steve Mcmahon. There was the combined versatility of players such as Ronnie Whelan, Jan Molby  and Ray Houghton who were all tearing visiting teams to shreds in that magnificent season 30 years ago. However, none of us could have known that the victorious boys of 1990 would have to wait another 30 years before their successors to the throne would show any sign of repeating the feats of  that all conquering season.

When the much revered likes of Barnes, Whelan, Houghton, Mcmahon, the local prouct Steve Mcmanaman and the gently strolling Jan Molby all joined up to load up the attacking bullets for the lethal Ian Rush, opposition teams knew they were in for a stressful afternoon. And along with the ever industrious Peter Beardsley we knew we were witnessing a Liverpool who were desperate to emulate the old First Division League championship exploits of their predecessors. There was the tireless Kevin Keegan, John Toshack, Terry Mcdermott, Ray Kennedy, Emlyn Hughes and the artistic if temperamental Graeme Souness, a team of such exceptional adaptability that many believed that Liverpool would continue to dominate English football for many years to come.

And yet here we are almost 30 years later and the worm is turning again. Anfield, still one of the most atmospheric and melodious of football grounds, is getting that lovely warm feeling again. Liverpool think this could finally be the year they've been waiting for and not before time or so they may believe. Anfield of course has undergone dramatic re-furbishment in recent years and the Anfield of the Gerry and the Pacemakers- You'll Never Walk Alone vintage is now just a distant if glorious 1960s memory.

The Kop have retained the same overtures and symphonies, the familiar songs, the visually moving sway of the red scarves and that sense of heartfelt community spirit which will always drive the players forward. Throughout the 1960s, 1970s and right up to the present day, the Kop remind you of a well tuned orchestra that never sound off key. Sadly, that tumbling, surging tidal wave of support from generations of fathers, mothers, aunties and cousins, although still ever present in huge droves, no longer seem to bunch together in their vast religious congregations.

Of course they provide Liverpool with that vital sense of continuity, that seamless link with both the past and present. Butt the new look Anfield has a more state of the art, art nouveau appearance where all seating arrangements and a more futuristic design about the ground seem to be a clear statement of the club's ambitions and their forward thinking outlook. Now the preferred choice of drink is more latte and capuccino rather than the traditional lager and pale ale.

On Saturday evening you were reminded of Ron Yeats and Peter Thompson, Ian St John and Tommy Lawrence, impregnable rocks at the heart of the glory, glory 1960s years of wine and roses. You remembered the brilliantly gifted Kenny Dalglish coming back to Liverpool as manager and winning again for the club. The floodlights were on full blast for Liverpool on the first wintry evening at Anfield and it was just like the old days. The now sadly missed Tommy Smith, you suspect, would have relished evenings such as this one.

A confrontation between Liverpool and Manchester City for a League title would have appeared unthinkable 30 or 40 years ago. City were regarded as a team of serial underachievers back in the 1970s and 1980s, a team of undoubted class and stature but always stumbling around in the dark rather like strangers in a haunted house. They reminded you of Victorian vagabonds with guttering candles in their hands frantically looking for warmth on a cold night. City were never in contention for anything and never really looked like succeeding even when Malcolm Allison and Joe Mercer were in charge at the club.

Of course under the magically transformative Pep Guardiola City have won back to back Premier League titles but this season is strikingly different. When City were shocked and beaten by newly promoted Norwich City a couple of weeks ago some of us thought of it as the most fleeting of blips, never to happen again. City though look very shaky, fallible, accident prone and unsteady on their feet. Their football is still pure and unblemished but there are visible cracks and the first hints of vulnerability and wobbly fallibility have to be a cause of concern at the Etihad Stadium.

When the outstandingly marauding full back overlaps of Andrew Robertson were ripping away at a flaky, threadbare City defensive fabric, Liverpool looked clinical, destructive and full of the joys of winter. Robertson maybe no galloping Emlyn Hughes but he does like a good, old fashioned run down the flanks. Here Robertson gave us that distinctive masterclass of a full back who loves nothing better than a sprint for the by line, taking on his opponent for pace before reaching his destination and crossing superbly for onrushing forwards Mo Salah and Roberto Firmino.

With the hugely intelligent and classily cultivated Jordan Henderson linking delightfully with Fabino and the increasingly progressive Trent Alexander Arnold on the other flank, Liverpool were all angles, mosaic patterns and intricate one touch football. Their football flowed speedily, accurately and pleasurably across the middle of the pitch rather like another Constable work of art. The landscape was unfolding before us and you could see another modern day manifestation of Liverpool genius.

When Fabino ventured forward to fire home a thunderous shot for Liverpool's opening goal from just outside the penalty area, you could hear the first crackles of electricity in the feverish Anfield Kop again. Fabino is one of those typically Brazilian purveyors of craft, guile and clever footballing deception who just revel in the use and distribution of a football. When the fizzing and fabulously energetic Mo Salah flung himself forward to head Liverpool's second, the crowd were tuning up those famously harmonious chants. A fluttering picture of the great Bob Paisley rippled across the Kop and those devoted loyalists were in their element. It was as if the the 1960s and 1970s had made a welcome return to Anfield.

It was left to the permanently skilful Sadio Mane to add the icing on Liverpool's now very edible cake. Mane popped up almost naturally at the far post to crack home Liverpool's third. It seemed almost too good to be true for Liverpool rather like a dreamscape that none of us could have imagined. City were being put in their place, rubbed out of existence like a mistake in a child's exercise book. They were being given that deserved dose of medicine that threatened to unseat them last season until Jurgen Klopp's Liverpool finally ran out of steam.

Although City did salvage a late consolation goal right at the end this felt like a change in the sea temperature for them. Liverpool are beginning to carve out a deeply impressive lead at the top of the Premier League. Of course your mind went back to that astonishing last gasp winning goal for Arsenal at Anfield which meant that Liverpool were pipped to the old First Division Championship.

Then there was that incredible season when Kevin Keegan's Newcastle United were so far ahead of Sir Alex Ferguson's Manchester United that some of us were in need of a good set of binoculars to spot Newcastle in the distance. Then Newcastle, who had a 12 point lead at the top of the Premier League in February of that season, blew up in front of all of us and Fergie's Manchester United's fledglings ran away with the Premier League title. It was the most head turning of turning points and the rest you know.

So it is that Liverpool sit pretty at the top of the Premier League just before the last international break of the season this year. There is an air of dethronement in the ether and those humorous Liverpool wise crackers are composing those eternally catchy tunes for another Anfield coronation at the end of the season.The balance of power is beginning to change quite noticeably and even the most hardened City fans are starting to worry and fret.

 The neutral onlookers will be cheering them all the way because we can all identify with Liverpool, their impeccable approach to the game, the passes like well connected wires, a fusion of intellect and intuition, short, sweet, quick and ultimately devastating. How proud Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley would have been. There is a classic fragrance of a Liverpool Premier League title in the atmosphere and you can almost sense it.