“So, I lost the World Cup, nobody died.”

It was the aftermath of the semi final of the 1999 Cricket World Cup in England. Lance Klusener, whose form had been so pivotal for South Africa throughout, had been involved in a calamitous run out with Allan Donald against Australia, subsequently costing the Proteas a place in the final.

The anguish on Klusener’s face was evident, his stark admission however, offered a chastening perspective.

Nigh on 19 years later, his words rattled through my mind as I watched the dying moments of Real Madrid’s Champions League final win over Liverpool in Kiev. For Zinedine Zidane’s team, and Gareth Bale in particular, it was 90 minutes that will be forever etched in the memories.

The same applied to Liverpool keeper Loris Karius, albeit for vastly different reasons.

Firstly, let me clarify the obvious. Karius made two inexplicable errors that ultimately cost his side European glory. The first was perhaps a freak incident, a rush of blood to the head which Madrid forward Karim Benzema reacted against clinically. The second, where Gareth Bale’s seemingly routine effort was spilt into the net, was difficult to justify.

From a footballing perspective, he deserves criticism. Pundits and journalists alike are employed to do a job, and while that may mean harsh assessments at times, sentiment is rightly at a premium when presiding over big occasions.

Furthermore, there is little room for sympathy in the brutal World of modern day football. Before the final whistle had been blown, Karius was a global laughing stock – crucified by opposition fans and mocked on social media.

And it didn’t take long for vile taunts to emerge. Whether the following comments belonged to genuine Liverpool fans or not is open to debate, but promptly, Twitter was plagued with wishes for Karius to die, or in at least one despicable instance, hope that his child contracted Cancer.

Quite often in life, the minority can severely let down the majority.

The scenario provoked deep thoughts for me. I have long been a critic of the extreme financial rewards that accompany a professional footballer. Players these days are overly pampered, detached from the real World, and often rightly lambasted for a failure to associate with the very people that fund their careers.

And yet, there is another side. With great reward, comes great scrutiny.

In few other occupations is an individual vilified in the manner that Karius has been this weekend. The mistakes he made will undoubtedly haunt him – and the top class save he made from Ronaldo’s header in the first half is a forlorn memory. Whatever happens in the remainder of his footballing life, he will be tagged as the man who horrendously blundered in the 2018 Champions League final.

We are all experts from the comfort of our armchair, myself included. And yet, how many of us can honestly say we have always been flawless in our own line of work? Or have never made a mistake? Very few. The difference between us and the likes of Loris Karius, is we don’t have millions callously reminding us about mishaps on a daily basis.

Nor do we have to apologise in front of thousands. Say what you like about the nature of Madrid’s first and third goals, with a sublime Bale overhead kick sandwiched in-between, but Karius was man enough to take responsibility. After the final whistle he approached the Liverpool fans in the stadium, he literally held up his hands, and he voluntarily bore the brunt.

The tears and anguish etched upon his face was enough to soften even the most hardened of hearts. He couldn’t change what had gone before, but he showed true fortitude in adversity.

A lesser individual would have darted to the changing rooms. Head down, face covered, not to be spoken to for the foreseeable.

And he received little back up. Liverpool is a wonderful club in terms of history, togetherness, and passion. I’ve attended Anfield myself on many occasions and can testify to that. But the players let their keeper down badly when he needed them most.

It was inevitable they would have been racked with disappointment at the final whistle, but the failure of any them to console Karius immediately afterwards spoke volumes. Some have voiced their discontent that Jordan Henderson will not captain England in this summer’s World Cup – but on the evidence of Saturday night he should be nowhere near his country’s armband.

Yes, the midfielder was inspirational in Liverpool’s run to the final, but it’s easy to galvanise when things are going well. Abandoning a team mate when he dearly needs support however, is not the making of an international leader.

It leads to the question if Karius can ever truly comeback from this? Jurgen Klopp’s faith in his No 1 will now be tested to the extreme, and calls from the Anfield faithful for a new keeper in the summer are already at fever pitch.

And should he keep his position, the relentless goading he will face from opposition fans next season will test his mentality like nothing before.

But look at it this way.

There are few people I know who haven’t encountered tragedy or some form of hardship in their lives. And with that in mind, while the vines, social media posts, and brutal jibes gather momentum, let’s all dwell on a word missing in the cut throat World of 21st century sport.

Perspective.

Loris Karius is a human being who erred badly in his line of work.

He arguably cost his team a sixth European Cup triumph, and in the process, damaged his own professional reputation.

He made mistakes which many fans, the vast majority of which are bereft of the ability and desire to match his achievements on a football field, will never forgive him for.

But while everyone is entitled to opinions and well within their rights to criticise Karius the keeper, please at least consider Karius the man.

And maybe, remember the simple yet significant words of Lance Klusener.

Nobody died.