Liverpool's treble has a golden hue

Epic. No other word for it. Epic. European football was given one of its great finals here last night, and anyone who thinks that overblown should consider that Liverpool consumated their beloved cup treble and yet no one cared one jot. Last night was all about last night.

At various stages 2-0 up, then 3-1 and finally 4-3, Liverpool were three times reeled in by the magnificent players of Alaves. With just over one minute of normal time remaining Jordi Cruyff equalised to take the game to its golden goal scenario, and there, after Alaves had been reduced to nine men, a man called Delfi Geli headed an own goal to give Liverpool their first European trophy since 1984. It was the 117th minute of a brilliant compelling evening.

Despite the huge squad he has assembled over the past two seasons, Houllier had pointed out on Tuesday that over the past six or seven games - crucial games all - he had kept his team changes to a minimum. He maintained that attitude last night, bringing in only Gary McAllister to the side that had started against Arsenal in Cardiff last Saturday. Vladimir Smicer gave way, as he had when McAllister had come on in Wales.

That was a like for like switch, but the Basques were more cautious. Instead of their usual 4-4-2 formation, the Alaves manager, Jose Manuel "Mane" Esnal, went for a 3-5-2 line-up.

The idea was to add some height to the back line, and much of the Alaves warm-up was taken up by big men heading away long punts. When it mattered, though, just over three minutes into the match, the warm-up looked like a cold memory for the Alaves defence.

McAllister's free-kick from the right flank was, as usual, fast, accurate and dangerous. That, however, should not have precluded any of Alaves' three centre-halves from getting to it first. Instead they allowed it to skim over the lot of them to Babbel. Babbel scored his fourth goal of the season with a downward header from barely six yards. 1-0. The voyage had begun.

As dream starts go this must have been Houllier's Tuesday night's slumber. Yet it got even better, and quickly. Thirteen minutes and what seemed like several attacks later Dietmar Hamann, already having a night to remember, worked the ball to Owen. Owen is not often credited for the insightfulness of his vision or the precision of his passing. But at that moment he picked out Gerrard haring through the Alaves defence. Gerrard took the ball on a couple of strides before powering it underneath the left arm of the unprotected goalkeeper, Martin Herrera; 2-0 and it felt like the end of the match.

But it was only the beginning of a Basque fight-back that was uplifting for the neutral to behold. Oscar Tellez, the fatas-a-landlord central defender, had made Sander Westerveld move swiftly to save a free-kick, but Alaves' turning point came with introduction of Ivan Alonso for Dan Eggen in the 23rd minute. If that was an admission by Mane that he had got it wrong at the start, then he is a brave man.

He must have been punching the air when, four minutes after he came on, Alonso rose above Babbel at the far post to direct a careful header past Westerveld. The cross had come in from the right, where Contra now began to live up to his billing as the best right back in Spain. 2-1.

Alaves were back in it. Five minutes later only a last-ditch challenge on Javi Moreno by Babbel prevented an equaliser, and Westerveld then denied the same man with a point-blank block after Moreno had left Stephane Henchoz writhing in embarrassment on the turf. Westerveld was also hit fortuitously by a shot from Ivan Tomic. And then Alaves threw all that away. Hamann threaded another pass through Alaves, Owen seized it, rounded Herrera and was brought down before he could shoot. Herrera should have been sent off but was shown only yellow. Nevertheless, he paid as McAllister stroked in the penalty. 3-1. Forty mins, 36 seconds had gone.

Half-time brought a welcome breather. But then it all started again. Contra, really doing himself justice now, twisted and turned Jamie Carragher and floated in a ball to the far post. There Moreno outjumped Gerrard to place another header past Westerveld. 3-2. Our bemusement was matched only by our amusement.

Three more minutes, a free-kick on the edge of the Liverpool area. Worryingly for Liverpool, Moreno stood over it. Then he ran up and kicked it - under the leaping wall. Westerveld stood motionless as the ball raced past him. It was 3-3 and it was magnificent.

But not over. In the 63rd minute on came Fowler for Emile Heskey. Ten minutes later Fowler collected a short pass from McAllister and sort of stumbled into the Alaves box. The ball was on Fowler's right and as he went past one, then two opponents, he looked half-balanced. Then, around the penalty-spot, came his chance. He had wasted them in Cardiff, but not now. With his right Fowler passed the ball into the bottom corner. 4-3.

And yet still not over. Alaves, superb Alaves, rallied themselves again. Two minutes left and a corner from Pablo. Westerveld came to punch. Cruyff got there first, his blond locks setting up a golden finale. It was 4-4 and it was still game on.