IT WAS the day Anfield was going to speak.
Not, this time, just for Liverpool. But for many, many others.
With the Oasis-inspired banners that spelt out accusation after accusation. . The raucous blasts of “cheats”.
A visceral, guttural, raucous, fever-pitched outpouring of righteous pre-match anger and disdain.
We got it, too. But all for nothing, to no avail.
For this turned into the day that spoke, even louder, sending a message that nobody could ignore.
Winning at a canter, after stunning finishes from , and Rayan Cherki, to leave the Kop choking on its insults, feeding off the emotion to show cold, hard ruthlessness.
With wreathed in smiles as he encouraged the travelling fans to keep waving their inflatable bananas.
His players beaming, arms raised, triumphant, sticking two fingers up to all those who would see them humbled.
A , seven on the spin in all competitions, showing that, no matter what is thrown at them, on or off the pitch, this City dressing room plans to carry on regardless.
Signalling that, whether rival fans like it or not, until the entire disciplinary process comes to an end, will simply have to get used to it.
Those smiles, that sense of resolve, exhibited the same joy as Haaland’s dad after his son’s superb opener.
And if City do not break after all that has been flung their way over recent days, you wonder if anything other than the authorities will be able to stop them.
After all, Anfield away, in the wake of the damning conclusions of the independent commission that weighed its verdict for almost two years, should surely have been the one venue where .
Walking into a maelstrom inside, even if the backdoor route allowed them to dodge the screams, bedlam and pyro billowing out red smoke on their way to the stadium.
On the back of all that has been hurled at them, that fury and indignation. With the threat of unprecedented punishments hanging like the gallows rope.
Instead, they laughed, quite literally, in the face of it all.
Weathering the early storm – whether reverberating out of the stands or from Andoni Iraola’s side.
Ignoring all the noise, those banners that turned the Gallagher brothers’ lyrics against the club they love.
Producing, once again, a masterclass, pouncing like a lion on a stricken wildebeest once Ryan Gravenberch’s second yellow in 15 minutes saw Liverpool reduced to 10 men, spitting out the bones once they had devoured the meat.
It does not bother them, it seems, what the rest of football thinks.
That , calling again for City’s Abu Dhabi ownership to be stripped of the club, insisted: “It wasn’t 11 v 11. The difference was they had 18 to 20 top players.
“They wouldn’t have won as many trophies as they did because they wouldn’t have had that quality of player.”
Or that claimed: “You want to win it honestly, no cheating.
“If I was a player at United and these stories had come out I’d be disgusted at any dodgy dealings going on or somebody cooking the books.
“We point fingers at other leagues. And when it happens in the English league, there has to be punishment.”
That, unless City win their appeal – or successfully overturn the verdict at a subsequent legal tribunal – is for the future.
Yesterday was about the here and now, the outpouring of vitriol that washed over City like water off a duck’s back.
There was plenty of it, too. Aside from the catcalls and jeers, the banner with , Haaland and Co dressed up in prison uniforms, under the message “114 charges – guilty”.
But the City fans have adopted the same attitude of defiance.
They might been greeted by a banner declaring “we won the lot without cheating” as they came off the M62, but outside, – a throwback to the Imre Varadi-inspired craze of the 90s – it was song -time.
To the tune of “Love really hurts without you”, they sang: “Khaldoon, City’s in love with you” and adding: “We’re not a****, that we’ve been charged!”
Khaldoon Al Mubarak was not spotted, although chief exec Ferran Soriano led the City delegation. For the fans, it was about a show of unity, against everything they knew was coming.
As the City players emerged, led by Ruben Dias, for their pre-match warm-ups, there was no filter from the brutal bellow.
All around, too, the banners, Oasis lyrics twisted and turned into accusations and predictions – “All of your stars, are fading away” and “And after all, you really robbed us all” – and, of course, on repeat, “you cheating b, we know what you are”.
Then as the two teams walked out, a wall of pure unrelenting indignant sound, reverberating and cascading around, Dias laying down the law to his men in the huddle after the City fans had booed the Prem anthem.
Once the game began, every Liverpool tackle brought a roar, Anfield a bearpit, chants of “going down” filling the void when the game settled after a frantic, frenzied but ultimately incident-free opening half.
But these City players are made of sterner stuff, even if this is likely to be just the first time they face a chorus of disapproval.
Once Graveberch walked, City turned up their own heat. Comprehensive and convincing. Simply too good.
None of them can expect to win a popularity contest outside the M11 postcode.
But, like the fans, they are used to turning their backs on things. And getting on with “business as usual”.
