Fowler saves derby blushes

THE curtain finally descended on Liverpool's Premiership aspirations last night, lowered not by a rival but by a neighbour. Commendable and thoroughly deserved though this draw was, the title has now gone, something which was, perhaps, confirmed ill days ago when they returned home despondent and empty handed from a day trip to Coventry.

The United's of Manchester and Newcastle may now concentrate on seizing the great prize without feeling the need to occasionally glance anxiously over their shoulders. Liverpool will simply have to content themselves with the small matter of next month's IFA Cup final.

Predictably the 154th League meeting of these friendliest of enemies ended all square, a match of no great merit and of rather dubious quality enthralling by virtue of its intensity rather than by the quality of its football.

To be fair, there were mitigating circumstances. The Merseyside heavens had opened in midmorning and, without a hint of sympathy for the grand parade, it had poured all day long.

Goodison Park's playing surface was absolutely atrocious, a treacherous and deadly skid pan fit to render helpless and clumsy even the most cultured of feet. And clumsy, indeed, looked the evening's potential match winners as the great pantomime unfolded.

In an opening half which they completely dominated, Everton's more rudimentary approach always seemed likely to yield a dividend but the eternal problem of squandered opportunities seems almost as pronounced now as back in August.

Well, almost. Amokachi and the barely fit Ferguson had both driven into the body of goalkeeper David James before Liverpool's porous back line was breached on 18 minutes.

Forced wide seemingly too aide by James's advance from his line, John Ebbrell instinctively) swept in a shot which cannoned back into play off the face of the crossbar.

Unfortunately for those in red, the ball fell directly in front of Andrei Kanchelskis who established a measure of control before applying the decisive touch from six yards.

McManaman was always a graceful contributor, but with so few willing to offer assistance, he was too often asked to plough quite literally a lone furrow. It would not be unreasonably stretching a point to describe Liverpool as a team reborn after halftime. At last they seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation.

With a renewed sense of urgency came more compelling and intelligent football and Collymore was desperately unfortunate not to drag his side level midway through Liverpool's most imposing spell when he struck the crossbar with a glorious drive from distance.

Everton had moved to within three minutes of a first League double over Liverpool in more than a decade when the roof fell in. Collymore's marvellous cross from deep on the right was met at the far post by inevitably Robbie Fowler, who smartly converted his only chance of the evening.