That 'Welsh Xavi' tag was always ludicrous, but Joe Allen turning into a magnificent player

Last night, Tony Pulis sent his West Bromwich Albion team out at Aston Villa in a neat 4-4-2 formation. Whoever was in charge of the on-screen graphics at BT Sport couldn't quite bring themselves to accept this.

Craig Gardner and James Morrison were teased up the wings a bit, away from their midfield partners, while Saido Berahino was nudged back into the Nandor Hidegkuti role, presumably with a view to making Albion's team shape look a bit more esoteric, modish, progressive.

And yet there really was no need. It's OK to play in a 4-4-2. It's not been outlawed quite yet. It still does a job, there's no shame in it, no need for denial.

If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, chances are it'll go down pretty well slathered in juniper jus and served up with a large glass of burgundy.

Another case in point: Joe Allen. Until recently, at least.

For far too long since taking the step up from Swansea City to Liverpool, Allen had, well, failed to take the step up. Sections of the support, and plenty of the commentariat, would bend over backwards in their attempts to justify his performances - usually engaging the intellectually dishonest argument that, if you can't see him doing the Simple Things Well, then hey, you don't understand football at all.

Except those arguments simply didn't hold water. Fans of rationalisation can try to dress it up, but for large chunks of his Liverpool career Allen had disappointed. He'd not been awful, but neither had he lived up to the bustling early promise of his days with Swansea and Wales.

Injury hadn't helped, and neither did being lumbered with that ludicrous "Welsh Xavi" monicker, a dead weight not quite of "New George Best" proportions, but an unrealistic millstone nonetheless. Liverpool require a consistent standard of excellence if they're ever to achieve their goals, and Allen's displays had been, barring a couple of admirably level-headed efforts amid the meltdowns and the maelstrom of last season's run-in, average at best.

Two things belie the lie. Firstly, doing the Simple Things Well isn't a craft so subtle that only the self-appointed tactical cognoscenti can sense it going on. We could spot Claude Makelele doing the Simple Things Well. We could spot Roy Keane doing the Simple Things Well. We could spot Didi Hamann and Lucas doing the Simple Things Well. To varying degrees, they were all rather good at it, and the importance of their actions was glaringly obvious.

Allen's relative anonymity, by comparison, wasn't a function of some clever, wily, modern-day, smoke-and-mirrors hustle. Nor was he a precision cog whirring silently in the back of the clock.

It was all simple enough, if you paid attention to the Duck Rule: he really was anonymous for large chunks of the time, turning in five-out-of-ten performances at an eight-out-of-ten price.

It's important to acknowledge Allen's ineffectual years to realise the second fact belying the lie - because here's the rub: the Joe Allen of today, the here and now, the one who walked around, through, and all over Manchester City's champion midfield last weekend, is a magnificent player.

This Joe Allen is the real deal. By finally taking the step up, he's outed the old version as bog standard - and inadvertently shown up those who previously talked him up as tactical pseuds or, being a little kinder, well-meaning dreamers.

Allen against City - and recently against Crystal Palace, Southampton, and Besiktas, for this is a genuine, marked and sustained upturn in form - was immense. Yes, he did the Simple Things Well: pressing, harrying, breaking up play, hovering on opponents' shoulders, snapping into tackles. Which, in fairness, he's done from the get-go; he's always given his all.

But in these recent matches his contribution has become tangible. With the ball won, he has begun to expedite, rather than passively laying off and drifting back into the comfort zone. He's passed forward metronomically, crisply and quickly, driven into space, dropped a shoulder to ease past challenges, a dip in his hip and a glide in his stride, showing confidence that's never been on display before - or not at Anfield anyway.

Suddenly he appears a different beast, making a bid for midfield dominance, a force for the opposition to worry about for the first time. Presence. Check his pockets for Yaya Toure.

Phillipe Coutinho and Adam Lallana took all the plaudits against City, of course, as fancy-dan attackers with twinkling toes tend to. And both were indeed majestic. But Allen was on a different plane, the real man of the match in Liverpool's best display of the post-Suarez era, one which might serve as a pivotal moment in this side's development should the player maintain his new level, assume a leader's role, and keep taking games by the scruff of the neck like this.

And about time too: he turns 25 this month, his peak years arriving right about now. Enjoy yourself, Joe, it's later than you think.

Allen is a shy, modest, likeable figure, so there's always a danger he might at some point shrink back into the shell he curled up in during the period between 2012 to 2014. Which is exactly why it's so important to acknowledge and accept the limited success of those early years at Anfield. Never go back.

But the current signs suggest he might be finally working things out on the big stage, which would be very much to Liverpool's benefit, especially as the new terrain of the post-Gerrard era opens out in front of them.

Let's keep things in perspective, though: Liverpool are still waiting for their Welsh Xavi, and while Allen is still getting better the Reds will probably carry on waiting a long time for a player of that stature. But a Welsh Hamann or Cymru Lucas would be more than acceptable for now.