It was always going to end in a storyline, 131 years of Goodison derbies wouldn’t permit anything different.
Perhaps the deal we did with the devil to secure three of the most comical Merseyside derby triumphs within the space of three years under Jurgen Klopp extended to one last gut punch at the Old Lady.
It won’t make the repercussions any easier to swallow, but when you’ve had it your own way against your biggest rivals for so long sometimes you have no alternative but to shrug and accept it.
Make no mistake about it, Liverpool were a million miles from being above reproach and for a side that have been so impressively adept at extracting emotion from business under Arne Slot, they were guilty of being too quick to get embroiled in the nonsense at points.
We can bemoan the crap officiating and mock those who made their way onto the field to celebrate a point on their big night until the cows come home, but what will continue to matter to us remains the big picture and there is plenty to ponder at both ends of the spectrum.
The Reds weren’t able to plant the ultimate parting cherry upon their neighbours across Stanley Park and, in all honesty, they probably didn’t deserve to.
As was the case at home to our other antiquated foes – Man United – at the turn of the year, Liverpool were the architects of their own downfall having come from behind and got within touching distance of the promised land.
It is natural not to want your enemies to have nice things, irrespective of how cushy you may have had it in recent times. A pitch invasion for what was a fairly immaterial draw in the grand scheme of things speaks more for the respective positions the two clubs find themselves in than anything else, but to have expected anything different would have been naive.
Given the occasion and now lack of relegation jeopardy, there was no real need for the familiar blue clad shackles and everything was to be gained from their perspective. This was Everton‘s ultimate opportunity to bestow a generation of misery upon a club that provide the omnipresent local yardstick.
Cliche tells you about form going out the window in derbies, but what was more evident was just how quickly wider meaning can dissolve when such pressing history is up for grabs.
It wasn’t to be for either on Wednesday night, but through circumstance and context, James Tarkowski’s thunderous ‘winner’ will be etched as prominently into blue folklore as it currently sits in our brains.
Now, that’s for them to concern themselves with. It is unquestionably a sickener but city pride must become a problem for another day – the first week in April to be precise.
The aforementioned big picture has the word “Liverpool” emblazoned across the top of it, seven points ahead of the closest challengers.
With that privilege comes the ability to slip on such a stage without the world falling in. In the past, derby misdemeanours have been accompanied by Earth-shattering consequences, but there is an opportunity here to make this one little more than a footnote.
Only twice since the bleak days of Roy Hodgson have the Reds swaggered back across the park with the spoils. It is a tougher test for us than it is for anyone else and the notion that Everton provide us with six straightforward points every season is simply false.
The numbers aren’t there to excuse the shortcomings, they just frame the first step of this 15-day stretch that could define the manager’s first season at Anfield.
Anything close to four wins from the next four will be enough to consign derby day heartache to the back of our minds.
While no one could argue Liverpool showed anything resembling the spark required against the Blues, there were enough individual glimpses across the pitch to indicate that confidence has not wavered.
The last one at Goodison was always going to be emotionally charged on both sides of the coin, but it was neatly packaged within something much greater than the sum of its parts.
That’s the job now, four wins from four or as close as it’s possible to get to it. League titles don’t wait around for you while you feel sorry for yourself and we wouldn’t want them to.
Everton got the last laugh of what was a monumental chapter in the history of both clubs, but football moves quickly and that is never more the case than when a title chase is involved.
You don’t get long to lick your wounds in this business and that is probably for the best.
Wolves are next on the horizon and while our margin for error remains favourable, blinking again feels borderline unthinkable given what is to come.
You can safely assume that Virgil van Dijk took offence to Tarkowski’s volley. Professional pride oozes through his veins and even the most minor setbacks are often enough to stir the souls of footballers at the level he operates.
The next step is always the most significant and Liverpool can scarcely afford to snooker themselves further while trips to Villa Park and the Etihad loom.
Let’s win number 20 and take it right past Bramley Moore, shall we?
