Firmino not so much, but what he does beyond goals counts for a lot. On Saturday, a nutmeg while lying on his side brought the house down. Now that Shaqiri’s freshened things up, we’re almost frightening again.

The performances against Red Star and Cardiff weren’t scintillating, but didn’t need to be. Patiently awaiting your moment, while staying solid elsewhere, is the template nowadays.

It’s obviously not down to one man, but the audible gasp whenever van Dijk falls or grimaces tells you who’s important. The man seems to play in his own time zone.

We’ve finally seen something from Fabinho, too. You need to rein in references to previous favourites, certainly on such skimpy evidence, but against Belgrade there were hints of Didi Hamann. He kept it simple and nicked the ball without the need to go crashing through opponents, the usual calling card of the midfield enforcer.

Was there anything to complain about? Well, the Serbs got a bit nasty when it began to get away from them, so that return game’s a bit ominous.

The referee’s going to be very important for that, but on recent evidence (Atwell was predictably atrocious on Saturday), I’ll not build anyone’s hopes up.

Some Red Star fans got in despite their ban. No problem, we’d probably do the same, but the booing of Shaqiri was a bit dubious. ‘How dare you flee for your life’ seemed to be the curious message, though I suppose Shaquiri’s goal celebration against Serbia in the World Cup didn’t help.

Maybe he shouldn’t play in Belgrade, in the return leg. He was the victim of a few late tackles at Anfield, but if you’re picking a team based on how home fans and players will (over)react, it’s not acceptable.

The grinding through the gears continued with Cardiff, whose resistance was slender, if not entirely futile. You can mock, but the whole division is in a terrible mess.

Arsenal are a case in point: two defeats against big clubs followed by seven straight league wins. Where there is a point for a club lower, it makes headlines now. It used to be commonplace.

Liverpool continued in exhibition mode, and there were clues, on Saturday, where they may eventually fail. Complacency didn’t just creep in; it blew the bloody doors off and emptied the liquor cabinet.

We can even pick Moreno, football’s equivalent of tying your hands and feet then trying to swim in treacle, and get away with it. He wasn’t that bad, actually, though their goal naturally emerged from a hole on the left where he should’ve been.

On days when the front three/four are firing, it won’t matter. Cardiff got their goal and we simply went up a notch. Klopp admitted it helped us, woke us up. If it’s a lesson learned, then all well and good.

Cardiff were bland, albeit efficient, and week after week of watching damage-limitation is getting a bit boring.

But who can blame them? The financial imbalance throughout the league is a scandal, really, but as long as television gets its Super Sundays, the rest can wither on the vine, or so it seems.

The argument for us is “that may be true, but at least we’re part of the elite again, so why worry?”

Why, indeed? I’m certain that calamity lies just around the corner, though. Leopards, spots, and whatnot.