Well now we know how Jurgen Klopp feels.
You're cruising along as title contenders when upstarts like Burnley & Brighton rock up at fortress Anfield & give you a metaphorical black-eye.
Poor old Jurgen! His pearly smile reduced to a rictus grin as he tries to explain the unexplainable.
Not for the first time, no-hopers wearing masks arrive at the Wham & perform a smash & grab.
After visits from lowly Gillingham, Northampton & Plymouth, we've scraped 1 point from what should have been 9.
No words of consolation will help to ease the pain of seeing your hopes slowly disappear before your eyes.
I don't want to hear how we dominated the game. How we should have scored a bagful. It's all so much hot air.
Let's face facts.... we blew it!
Perhaps we expected too much after our demolition of Bristol Rovers & Hull.
That we're punching above our weight & should be content with mid-table obscurity.
But to follow football is to chase the impossible dream, overturn all the odds & achieve success.
Every victory makes that dream seem a reality, every defeat leaves optimism crushed.
Sometimes I hate football! Today is one of those days.
But wait! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east & Lincoln beckons.
Once more into the breach dear friends.
Let us expect the unexpected....
Come on you Reds!