Liverpool v Everton: the Merseyside derby has totally lost its rough edge and the game is poorer for it Whether Liverpool or Everton won, there would be a pocket of away fans in the home end celebrating. For all the "friendly derby" claims, there was an edge to it like no other fixture. It was the game you most wanted to see and at the same time you were glad when it was over. There will be people reading that little waltz down memory lane, offering a wistful sigh and saying: "Ah, happy days, but what about the bad bits?" Derby week on Merseyside conjures up these images from the mid-80s when the fixture truly was the most important - not only in the city of Liverpool - but across the country. It was rarely the most spectacular of games, but it was always the most inebriating (not just because you had to smell those fumes from the steam) and what lingered most was how angry and hostile it always was. It was a surprise no fixtures were abandoned due to a waterlogged pitch given the bile spat in the general direction of opponents. Opposing supporters were brought up to despise each other. Think of an Aussie cricket correspondent staring at Stuart Broad's bowling figures and you get the picture. The modern form of the derby is a distant cousin. Recent meetings have not even felt like they were part of the same sport, never mind a repeat fixture. It's an exclusively parochial battle today, the clubs still trying to make it relevant to title or trophy aspirations. That, along with the wretched 12.45pm kick-offs and the greater segregation of supporters since all seating, has undoubtedly made for games requiring incendiary incidents to inflame passions. In fact, it often feels the supporters have become more wound up by what their rivals say about them before and after the games rather than what goes on during the fixture. The memory may distort the reality, but it never felt like the Merseyside derby had any cause to proclaim its own "uniqueness" 20 years ago. No hype necessary. It just was the best, outstanding fixture in English football, in mind, body and sound. Now, it has to work much harder to differentiate from the crowd. You'll still get your controversies - with utter tediousness it usually always centred on some refereeing decision - but in comparison to its predecessors the current Merseyside derby feels rather... well... polite. With its rogues gallery of 26 red cards - plenty in recent times - you'd imagine little has changed. But it's hard to recall a particularly vicious challenge among the latest dismissals, many being the consequence of two yellow cards. Overly officious refereeing and over-exuberant, mistimed tackling can account for that. Now Phil Neville is no longer around even that shouldn't be an issue. If we do witness a heated confrontation this weekend, two sides putting the boot in like Graeme Souness taking on Peter Reid, it will be a surprise, especially given the two managers views on how the game should be played. Try as you might, it's hard to consider the image of Lucas and Leon Osman squaring up to each other as provoking anything but mirth rather than rage. It creates the potential for a serene derby, where centre-halves are able to pass unchallenged to their defensive partners, twinkle-toed midfielders have time and space to pick a pass, and where the team that wins does so having played the most football without - perish the thought - having to earn the right to do so. You'll hear the players saying how "unique" and "special" it all was, but Goodison Park always chimes more under the floodlights, making evening games in recent years against Manchester United and City far more raucous than these early afternoon encounters against the neighbour. If you were compiling a list of top five best atmospheres at Anfield over the last decade, it's doubtful Everton would come into consideration. The Merseyside derby could become one for the football purists, where the only wincing is due to the lack of feistiness; a fixture where the opposing dug-outs mutually admire each others" style of play and where the merest hint of a robust challenge on the precious midfield playmaker prompts the referee into over-protective mode. To preserve the sanctuary of the fixture, we must hope that never proves to be the case. If it ever does, the Merseyside derby's painful journey into becoming "just like any other game" will be complete.