You'll Never Walk Alone

I am devastated. It’s been two days since I made the pilgrimage to Anfield for what was to be (and still will be, I think) the most important day of my six month trip around Europe.

Let me recount the day for you.

March 22, 2015 - Matchday

On the morning of March 22, I woke up early to take my bags to the hostel I would be staying at that night in the city center. From the moment I woke up, I could feel the buzz. It’s different. I had been in Liverpool 2 days by this point, and until today, it has not been what I expected. I expected everyone in the city to wear jerseys everyday and talk about nothing but football. That wasn’t the case. But today, as I rode the bus in to the city, I could sense it was different.

I got off the bus, and started to notice the attire of everyone walking by. Some jerseys, some scarfs tucked under coats, some LFC branded coats and jackets. I can hear many people who pass by discussing the match. Who they think will start. Whether or not Gerrard will play.

I dropped the bags, and went back out. I picked up a matchday program and stopped for a drink. Cappuccino. Not beer yet, I just want to enjoy the day and remember it as best I can.  Cafe Nero, the Italian version of Starbucks, I think. I sat there in my excitement, drinking my cappuccino and staring at Coutinho on the cover of my program, too excited to read. Several times, I picked up the program, flipped through it, and then put it back down, unable to focus.

After the coffee, I went to change some money. I was buying my ticket from an Irishman, so I was paying him in Euros.

€300 = £240 = $330

Though, I actually worked it out to costing me about $360 in the end. And that was about 1/2 of what I thought I would have to pay to get in. Whether or not I would have paid that much is a different question.

Anyways, I get my envelope of money and put it in my pocket, and I’m off to get back on the bus, to head back to the stadium. The bus fills with Liverpool supporters. To most of them, going to Anfield is normal, but the match today is far from normal. It’s Manchester United. It’s for a place in the Champion’s League, and it’s for pride.

Off the bus, everybody is standing about outside the stadium, eating or talking in preparation for the football. I grab a scarf from a scarf stand just outside the stadium.

Scarf - £9 - $13.50 - A necessary expense

I stop and get some fish n chips take away from a Chinese place across the street from the stadium. It seems to be a regular thing here for there to have Chinese and fish n chips in the same place. Or any type of food, and fish n chips.

Fish n Chips - £5.20 - $7.75 - Amazing!

It was quite good, too!

When the guy (Joe) with my ticket arrives, we talk a little, and then make our way in to the stadium.

The doors to the turnstiles.

The entrances are maybe 1 and half feet wide, 7 foot tall holes in the brick wall of the stadium. Just wide enough for 1 person at a time to enter, and its a tight fit for one. I scan my ticket, and go through the metal turnstile.

At that moment, I realized I had arrived. The journey was complete. For so long, I have followed this club whole-heartedly. Watching as many games as I could; reading every day about what is going on in Liverpool; investing time, money, and emotions into this team that plays so far away that it defies logic to support them. But today, I am here with them, and they will know my support first-hand.

The view from my seat.

The next 45 minutes to kick-off go by so fast. We find our seats, which are tiny. Not everyone can sit back and fit, shoulder to shoulder. Joe buys me a cup of coffee. I go watch the Liverpool players warm up down by the field. I am not embarrassed to say that I became a little teary eyed just watching them kick the ball around.

Watching the players warm up.

The players leave the pitch, I use the bathroom, which I could describe in length to you as well, but this is already plenty long enough. Then I’m back to my seat.

The players come out and line up to be seen. Then shake hands. There is no unnecessary fanfare, no national anthem, no corporate advertising crap. They get straight to business here.

As the players make their way to their positions, the music starts. “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” I will do my best to describe the indescribable here. Besides the Manchester supporters off to my left, the entire stadium is singing this at volume. Scarfs are up, flags are waving, and I am again a little teary eyed as I sing my best ever rendition of the song.

The Kop singing "You'll Never Walk Alone"

Throughout this trip so far, I have almost always been very aware of the fact that I am travelling alone. Drinking a beer in a pub by myself is a great way to remind myself of that fact. I realized after the match, that my time inside Anfield was the first time on my trip that I have felt a part of a group, and that I was truly not alone.

When the ball is first kicked, I could see that everybody in the stadium was fixed on the game. Nobody was eating, or drinking, nobody is on their phone, and nobody is really even talking, other than about the football. It was amazing and refreshing to see.

The fun was over almost immediately after kick-off. Liverpool were awful. They gave the ball away cheaply, nobody made a tackle, they made it too easy for Manchester United to control the game.

When Manchester score their first goal, the Liverpool supporters go quiet and still, and their is a roar from the away supporters end. After a few moments, I let myself look over at them, and the entire section of them is bouncing and waving their arms, it was as chaotic as boiling water. Cool to see, but I really don’t like them.

I then notice, that there was one Manchester United supporter in our section who celebrated the goal, and just about our entire section has turned on him. People are yelling at him, saying, “GIT OUT!” Some are waving their arms, I think the person was maybe even shoved. They yell at this fellow for awhile, until security eventually comes and take the Manchester United supporter away. Justice.

Shortly after this, Steven Gerrard goes and warms up in front of the Manchester supporters just to add to the fun I think. Both sets of fans begin singing his song. Same tune, different words. One is a love song, and the other is a song of hate.

I have heard just about every manager say that player is as big as Liverpool, but if anyone comes close, it’s Steven Gerrard. I am here to see him just as much as I am to see the team itself. He is a legend. Fresh off an injury, and near the end of his game, he didn’t start. But Rodgers (the manager) has brought him on at half time for Adam Lallana, who, like everyone else who started, has been shit. He’s the first to come out of the tunnel. The rest of the fans and I are excited by this. He is always there to rescue Liverpool.

Right away, the Liverpool captain makes an impact. He makes a classic Gerrard cross field pass, and makes a good hard tackle on a United player. After the tackle he gets tangled up with a United player. I can’t tell who. From my view, it just looks like a foul on Gerrard. The ref stops play, runs over to sort it out, and quickly shows Gerrard the red card. I am so confused and shocked by this. What just happened?

38 seconds. That’s how long I got to see Gerrard play.

I did my best to try forget about it and just worry about them getting back in the game. From this point, they start to play better, but that doesn’t stop Juan Mata from scoring from an overhead kick. Normally, I would be thrilled to have been lucky enough to see a goal this good, but not today. I feel sick. I keep telling Joe (the Irishman) that this isn’t how this is supposed to go.

Eventually, Liverpool do get their goal with 20 minutes left in the game, which makes for the some of the first exciting moments of the game. Apart from a decent chance for Lallana in the first half, and the 38 second Gerrard cameo, it has been far from exciting for most of us. The goal comes from great work from Coutinho, who play Sturridge in, and Sturridge does the rest.

The game ends 1-2. There were a few more moments of excitement. Liverpool continued to play better and kept trying to score. Manchester were awarded a penalty, which saw Mignolet save Rooney’s effort. And Skrtel and De Gea got in bit of an argument at the end.

As everyone leaves the stadium, I remain in my seat to be there for as long as I can. The Manchester supporters stay to celebrate. Also, I think security keeps them in until everyone else is cleared out. While they wait, they sings their songs about how we “nearly won the league”, or how “Gerrard fucks it up.” They really are awful people.

The Manchester supporters after the match singing their nasty songs.

As I said at the beginning, I have been quite devastated for 2 days straight now, and if that sounds ridiculous to you, than I’m afraid you just don’t get it. But let me clarify that I am still incredibly happy and proud that I went. I would do it again. And again and again. I am not at all upset about what I paid to get in even though they lost the way they did. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. I was there to sing with the Kop, and to clap the players off the field. I think that what I experienced would have been worth much more money.