Memories of the first game you attended

[Shitty Arse]

Everton 2 QPR 0 at Goodison 1985. With my dad and my uncle. I would've been 9. Someone spilt a bottle of wine over me when Everton scored. Oddly I can't remember who we played the first time I saw Liverpool. The shame of it! I just remember I was in the Kemlyn and it was deffo the following season. 1985 again with my other uncle on his seasy. This is back in the days when 9 year old lads got in for free under the turnstiles with their arl fellas!

[AngryOfTuebrook]

Only down side is that I had to go with my severely cuntish ex as she had got it for me as a Christmas present, the cunting cunt! She's a part time fucking Manc to boot.

 

Anyway, great memories.

Amicable separation, was it?

[Trumo]

Everton 2 QPR 0 at Goodison 1985. With my dad and my uncle. I would've been 9. Someone spilt a bottle of wine over me when Everton scored. Oddly I can't remember who we played the first time I saw Liverpool. The shame of it! I just remember I was in the Kemlyn and it was deffo the following season. 1985 again with my other uncle on his seasy. This is back in the days when 9 year old lads got in for free under the turnstiles with their arl fellas!

 

Bottle of wine? I take it you weren't in the Gwladys end then.

[Trumo]

FC Koln vs. FC Germania1910 Teveren in 1980.

14-1 to Koln as part of their 1980 pre season.

We were based at the local RAF camp.

 

Ah, the days when every German stadium bar Dortmund's had an athletics track.

[Trumo]

It's Stringy's contribution I can't wait to hear.

 

He had to wait for football sport fire to be invented first.

[VladimirIlyich]

He had to wait for football sport fire to be invented first.

He remembers when the ball had eyes,a nose and a full head of hair on it. It was learning to ride the horse which was the main problem.

[Shitty Arse]

Bottle of wine? I take it you weren't in the Gwladys end then.

Probably Blue Nun.

[Nelly-Szoboszlai]

My first game was the Fowler eating the grass derby! 1 down after 45 seconds. Fuck me. We hadn't beaten the bitters in 5 years I think. Still, absolute bonkers game, and it was Gerrards first derby too. April 1999 it was. Lovely sunny day also. Won 3.2 thanks to Gerrard saving twelvety off the line, mostly from Jeffers and cadamarteri, the dreadlocked twat

 

Only down side is that I had to go with my severely cuntish ex as she had got it for me as a Christmas present, the cunting cunt! She's a part time fucking Manc to boot.

 

Anyway, great memories.

I was in the Anny Road for that. Sat infront of some bitter infiltrators. One of them spat at my mate and called him a Norwegian. He's from Allerton.

 

They ended up getting chucked out. First time I'd really ever experienced the proper, full on blue bitterness.

[Philbert]

28th August 1971 - Liverpool 3:2 Leicester - Anny Road end - 50p entrance at the turnstile.

[Philbert]

28th August 1971 - Liverpool 3:2 Leicester - Anny Road end - 50p entrance at the turnstile.

[Philbert]

Heighway, Toshack and Keegan the scorers. Seem to remember that Leicester were mostly our 'bogey' team in the 70s

[Total Longo]

Bolton at home, first game of the 79/80 season i think. I was 8, went with my auld man who had a season ticket in the Kemlyn. It was a tedious, drab 0-0 and the only significance of the game was it was the first time (I think) anyone in England had a sponsor on the front of the shirt. A crudely printed Hitachi. 

 

What a way to start. The first game my lads went to was a 4-2 win.  

[VERBAL DIARRHEA]

Can't even remember think it was Spurs in 76.

[Carvalho Diablo]

Heighway, Toshack and Keegan the scorers. Seem to remember that Leicester were mostly our 'bogey' team in the 70s

I recall that they used to use a hot air balloon to keep the pitch free from snow at their old Filbert Street ground. Or did I actually dream that ?

[Caramac]

I recall that they used to use a hot air balloon to keep the pitch free from snow at their old Filbert Street ground. Or did I actually dream that ?

 

 

You might have had a dream about it but it was for real.

 

[Paulie Dangerously]

Forrest at home on the old Kop.  Freezing and 0-0 didn't like it.

 

Next game was Blackburn away.  Barnes scored an overhead kick and James punched the ball into his own net.  I was hooked

[Trumo]

I recall that they used to use a hot air balloon to keep the pitch free from snow at their old Filbert Street ground. Or did I actually dream that ?

 

You might have had a dream about it but it was for real.

 

One thing about my first game there was that I had no idea the club played at Filbert Street until then. Our school was given a bunch of free tickets on a first come first serve basis, and once we'd confirmed our places, we just had to show up at the stadium before the game, when we'd be handed the actual tickets. The reason I had no idea about Filbert Street was that Leicester City were far from a big deal in those days, even locally, and the ground was mostly hidden behind rows of terraced houses in a residential area that we had no other reason for going to. Leicester Tigers' rugby ground was very close by and had major roads running behind each end, so it was much more visible. The side screens of the stands had 'Leicester Football Club' on them so I'd always assumed that Leicester City played there.

[Razoray]

Probably Blue Nun.

It was white wine, not that Redshite

[deiseach]

Bottle of wine? I take it you weren't in the Gwladys end then.

Liverpool fans drink wine in carafes.

[AngryOfTuebrook]

8th September 1979. I was 13 years old. My brother-in-law gave us a lift across from Runcorn. As he spent ages driving around trying to find somewhere to park, travel-sickness got the better of me. He had to make an emergency stop, so I could open the door and spew. When I looked up, I realised we were right outside Goodison. I enjoyed spewing there.

 

We left shortly before the end. As we were leaving, I turned around for a final look and saw David Johnson score his second and Liverpool's fourth.

 

http://www.lfchistory.net/SeasonArchive/Game/1102

Happy Anniversary to me!

[Reckoner]

2-2 stoke at home league cup 1993

Abbott fucked up near the end and they put it through Brucies legs to equalise.

[Harry Squatter]

Liverpool 5 Man City 2 in 1983. Don't really remember much about the game because I couldn't see anything. Just remember the place being absolutely heaving as it was boxing day or the day after. Got there late and walked up from by the Arkles pub. At that time there was a gap in tye corner between the kemlyn Rd and Anfield Road end so you could see the main stand packed. That gave me a bit of a buzz knowing I was going in and the place was so loud (to a little kid anyway).

[Dave D]

1984/85, though I can't remember who we played. I barely looked at what was happening on the pitch, as I was far too buying playing myself at Connect 4. Ian Rush scored and my dad, who was fuming, dragged me out of the ground. I went to bed that night and dreamt of us getting relegated.

 

Who won connect 4?

[Jennings]

I only meant to type something brief.  I've put it behind NSFW tags for those who don't want sentimentalist clap-trap forced on them...

 

Warning! The following content is NOT WORK SAFE. Click the Show button to reveal.

This is how I remember it. Maybe it didn't happen exactky like this. But this is how I remember it.

My dad isn't in to footy. He's a quiet guy. Enjoys having his family around him. Likes a bit of gardening. I was like him in a lot of ways, but in others I was very different. I supported Liverpool. I loved footy. We weren't skint but we weren't loaded. I had a red and white hat and scarf - and my pride and joy a leather Liverpool football with red and white hexagons. An actual casey.

I had seen the games on Telly and I had decided that I wanted to be part of it. The swaying crowd. The singing.

 

However those crowds were my dad's nightmare. It just wasn't his thing. Maybe a bit out of his comfort zone. He wasn't keen.

Dad guessed the fad would pass and I would move onto something else. But I didn't. 
I pestered him relentlessly to take me to a game. I had no idea that it wasn't really his thing. I just wasn't aware enough to sense it.

One day he came home from work with two tickets. I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to a game. I remember looking at them so often that I know every inch of them.

We did a dry run over to Liverpool a week or two before the game. Dad wanted to be sure he knew where he was going. To be honest I just thought it was day out. I didn't realise it was a dry run over so dad knew where he was going. I just thought it was a great day trip. Walking aaround an empty Anfield was different in them days. The houses came right up to the ground. No superstore trying to get your cash. In fact the shop was just a tiny corner shop type of thing. It was shut and had grill shutters down, but I still remember a Ray Clemence book on display in the window. I wondered if the shop was open would Dad get it for me?

Eventually, the night of the match came around. It was cold. I had put on my hat and scarf a long time before dad got home from the factory.

I had a pot noodle for tea. They were pretty new to the market. It tasted nice but I couldn't eat it. I was too excited. Mum insisted I took something to eat and made me a sandwich, but I didn't touch it. We were going to Liverpool!!

I don't remember much else about the journey.

My next memory is inside the ground. Walking up the steps of the Kemlyn Road stand. I remember going towards our entrance to our seats. All that stood in our way was a friendly looking steward shuffling foot-to-foot to keep warm. He spoke to my dad. "You can come in mate, but he'll have to stay here. He looks like one of them football hooligans." Dad laughed. I smiled although my mind was elsewhere. I was thinking the view was like from beyond that entrance.

As we entered my senses were in overload. The grass was so green. Unbelievably bright green. The best grass I had ever seen in my life. The noise. The grass. The sounds. Unbelievable. Flags were waving. Red and white checkered flags. I struggled to take it all in as we took our seats.

I can't remember much about the game, but I remember my dad saying "That's Cally. You're privileged to have seen him play, you know!". Maybe he did know something about footy after all.

In my study there is some stuff hanging on the wall. My guitar. Some fancy love hearts the missus has hung up. And of course the ticket stubs from my first game. Dad kept them.

He framed them and gave them to me a few years back. Bit faded, but they look great! Was it really 40-odd years ago?



Dad's got Parkinson's now. Pretty much housebound. The most altruistic bloke I have ever met in my life. Would love to go one more game with him.

[Tony Moanero]

I only meant to type something brief.  I've put it behind NSFW tags for those who don't want sentimentalist clap-trap forced on them...

 

Warning! The following content is NOT WORK SAFE. Click the Show button to reveal.

This is how I remember it. Maybe it didn't happen exactky like this. But this is how I remember it.

 

My dad isn't in to footy. He's a quiet guy. Enjoys having his family around him. Likes a bit of gardening. I was like him in a lot of ways, but in others I was very different. I supported Liverpool. I loved footy. We weren't skint but we weren't loaded. I had a red and white hat and scarf - and my pride and joy a leather Liverpool football with red and white hexagons. An actual casey.

 

I had seen the games on Telly and I had decided that I wanted to be part of it. The swaying crowd. The singing.

 

However those crowds were my dad's nightmare. It just wasn't his thing. Maybe a bit out of his comfort zone. He wasn't keen.

Dad guessed the fad would pass and I would move onto something else. But I didn't. 

I pestered him relentlessly to take me to a game. I had no idea that it wasn't really his thing. I just wasn't aware enough to sense it.

 

One day he came home from work with two tickets. I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to a game. I remember looking at them so often that I know every inch of them.

 

We did a dry run over to Liverpool a week or two before the game. Dad wanted to be sure he knew where he was going. To be honest I just thought it was day out. I didn't realise it was a dry run over so dad knew where he was going. I just thought it was a great day trip. Walking aaround an empty Anfield was different in them days. The houses came right up to the ground. No superstore trying to get your cash. In fact the shop was just a tiny corner shop type of thing. It was shut and had grill shutters down, but I still remember a Ray Clemence book on display in the window. I wondered if the shop was open would Dad get it for me?

 

Eventually, the night of the match came around. It was cold. I had put on my hat and scarf a long time before dad got home from the factory.

 

I had a pot noodle for tea. They were pretty new to the market. It tasted nice but I couldn't eat it. I was too excited. Mum insisted I took something to eat and made me a sandwich, but I didn't touch it. We were going to Liverpool!!

I don't remember much else about the journey.

 

My next memory is inside the ground. Walking up the steps of the Kemlyn Road stand. I remember going towards our entrance to our seats. All that stood in our way was a friendly looking steward shuffling foot-to-foot to keep warm. He spoke to my dad. "You can come in mate, but he'll have to stay here. He looks like one of them football hooligans." Dad laughed. I smiled although my mind was elsewhere. I was thinking the view was like from beyond that entrance.

 

As we entered my senses were in overload. The grass was so green. Unbelievably bright green. The best grass I had ever seen in my life. The noise. The grass. The sounds. Unbelievable. Flags were waving. Red and white checkered flags. I struggled to take it all in as we took our seats.

 

I can't remember much about the game, but I remember my dad saying "That's Cally. You're privileged to have seen him play, you know!". Maybe he did know something about footy after all.

 

In my study there is some stuff hanging on the wall. My guitar. Some fancy love hearts the missus has hung up. And of course the ticket stubs from my first game. Dad kept them.

He framed them and gave them to me a few years back. Bit faded, but they look great! Was it really 40-odd years ago?

 

 

Dad's got Parkinson's now. Pretty much housebound. The most altruistic bloke I have ever met in my life. Would love to go one more game with him.

 

 

Superb post, mate.