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My piece


Guest jean paul
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Guest jean paul

Eleven months have passed since my last visit to the Scouse land. Something like 330 days then in which my mind never drifted too far of this special part of the world. Some 330 days which honestly weren’t the best for me or the smoothest either, notably with my mother not being in the best of health and with the uncertainty that this brought found my spoilt and maybe lucky out-of-touch from the real world self totally weak and unprepared for it.

 

So Tuesday, October 1st I find myself at the local airport, passport and air-tickets firmly in my hands looking forward for what is now becoming my annual fix. A three-hour night flight wasn’t enough to dampen my now high spirits. At two a.m. the following day I land in Manchester Airport, where I find some mate waiting for me to get me out of there as quickly as possible before I pick something unpleasant. Less than an hour after I find myself in some cozy bed in Kensington with compliments of Bill & Marg once again. Can’t thank them enough! A couple of hours later I’m already up and having a chat littered with piss-taking banter with my old mate Billy. ‘Welcome to Liverpool,’ I say to myself as I walk my way to Anfield to pick the tickets for the Spartak Moscow and Chelsea matches. The tickets aren’t there as yet as you can only pick the pre-paid tickets after six I’m informed. No worries, I get the bus to town as I have a small wander and pick up Kevin Sampson’s ‘Outlaws’ and Irvine Welsh’s ‘Glue’. Well, I actually buy them too!

 

Get back to Kenny, get changed and at threeish I make my way to The Globe where I meet my local mate Alfred and get some delicious vodka down my throat for the first time in here. I there meet John Mac for the first time and we get talking immediately. Not that I wanted to cop him, but sound fella just the same! Some other RAOTL and RAWK regulars appear, notably Alan, Jon Hall and the Paddies Aidan and Brian. Life can’t get much better as another big mate of mine, Billy appears. After a few more we make the way to Anfield with Billy driving us down there. I get to the HJC shop, get the HJC badge and make my way to the ticket office while on the way see some poor souls selling RAOTL in the rain. I spot John Mackin for the first time next to Mr Editor himself who I swear is in the same black suit I last saw him. Hope he changed it in the meantime, well I don’t remember it smelt so I take it he’s done! So after picking the tickets, I make my way to The Albert which’s a bit quiet by its standards but then do the hard, challenging and daring journey to its back room where I spot Mushy leading the singing. By the way I must have stepped on a score of toes. Good job nobody wears flip-flops or slippers there as I would have got in some unwanted bother! With my vocal chords well greased from before I join in the singing as a few classics get belted! Oh happy, happy days! I felt like a bird just released, don’t have much chance of airing them in my place. I then made my way to heaven, but panic strikes. What? I’m going to this holy place, and I forgot my white shoes back home. Dear me, I’m not being admitted. The doorman seems to be in good mood and let me in though, well maybe the white trainees did the trick!

 

So I am inside and find my seat at the Paddock, Block PK4, Row C, Seat 100. Not too bad a spec, though my view’s obstructed every now and then with someone on the touchline nose. Dear me it’s that big! But I still get an immaculate view of Heskey at full strength slotting the ball home while Cheyrou and Hyypia follow. Nobody could have missed or obstructed Hyypia’s header as he seemed to rise in the sky and then bang the ball home. It was that awesome. Before knowing it’s half-time, and the one-way traffic affair seems to go on. Not that I was complaining. Diao and Heskey again make the score-line more realistic. Man of the match? There were a quite a few to choose from, but for me Heskey just edges it. Covered every blade of the grass for the team, some nice touches, ran at defenders and scored two goals. Spartak definitely were no Real Madrid but they had to get beat, and how many times we struggled to score against much lesser sides. Slovan Liberec, Rapid Bucharest, Grimsby and the other week’s Basle aren’t too long ago reminders. So five goals more than do me.

 

The Albert here we go again as I spot on a few more faces notably Tom G and Alan aka Gaffa. Some fella in a blue top with a small liverbird on is belting out ‘Bill Shankly from Glenbuck’ thought he seems to be more reciting something off the Bible rather than belting the song. I could feel that he was singing/reciting about a special, special person and few persons come more special than Bill Shankly himself. I learn the fella singing is Alan Edge, yes the writer of ‘Faith of Our Fathers’. I had to buy him a pint and as a gentleman/Scouser he is he didn’t refuse! From there we moved to town and before knowing it I enveloped myself again in the welcoming and cozy bed in chez Kenny.

 

Leeds, The Coral and Nige’s home were my next destination. Met Tom off Farnworth Street early in the afternoon and walked to London Road to get the coach. The trip to Leeds was quite a smooth one apart from the hindrance of having to go through Mancland but that was softened by the curtains offered by the coach company. So we get down in Leeds, find a boozer as we bide our time for The Coral gig. Nige appears, have a couple with him, discuss yesterday and then leave for a bit to try to get a ticket. He comes back in a couple of minutes and rather than a ticket he gets to us an A4 paper informing us that the gig’s been called off due to Ian Skelly getting ill. Kinell, don’t they know I made such a trip for them. Well, no point sulking as we move from one point to another, exchange arguments with the highly intelligent (intellectual, maybe more apt but let’s not blow him up too much) Nige, with topics varying from Che Guevara to the English diet. After we settled for some pizza from an Italian restaurant where I tested a bit my very limited Italian with the exiled Italian landlord. Still he understood the Italian swear word Koorrrreaaaa though. The night out was ended in a club called ‘Heaven & Hell’, whether it was heaven or hell depends how you look at it.

 

So it’s Nige’s home then, re-watch yesterday’s Liverpool display and I can’t help myself after seeing closely how amateur like their keeper looks. Rather fat, baldy, a moustache, a perfect travesty to our own Jerzy Dudek. Then again Hyypia’s header looks even better as Nige rewinds and rewinds the video. Before knowing though I’m probably dreaming of the Fields of Anfield Road.

 

Whatever your nice home and bed were very much appreciated Nige!

 

Friday and Saturday nights were spent in town and then Sunday was the big day. The day started brightly with the sun having a rare day out in the UK. At noon I was in a cab on my way to Anfield. The place seemed still half asleep at the time but it still felt a bit special. I walked down a couple of roads round Anfield taking it all in and then settled for a bit of a breakfast in one of the coffee shops near the ground itself. Linda’s I think. Had a glance at the papers offered while I munched the sausages and baked beans. It’s going to be a big day I was convinced. After quite a while I made my way to Andy Knott and Sue who were selling a new issue of RAOTL. Some lad fancying himself as a Robert De Niro dressed in all black walked through me, he was my mate Red Dave! Pity he forgot his dark glasses at home. Job half done Dave.

 

After that, we made way to The Albert and I’m introduced to a few of The Corner Crew by Red Dave himself. Songs are flowing on as always as are the goals in the Old Firm Derby. We sing and sing and then make way to my seat, this time in the Anny at Block 128, Row 30, Seat 230. YNWA, and match’s on. The Reds seem to start slowly, finding quite a stubborn back four who are eager to prove themselves after last Thursday’s debacle. Slowly the men in red impose a bit themselves even though not troubling Cudicini too much apart from Sami Hyypia who let fly from a couple of yards outside their penalty area. Traore replaces Henchoz but the back four is still not too hassled. Zola shows some silky touches which had me and the rest of Anfield amazed, what a player Zola is, don’t think Chelsea and their chairman deserve him. Well, time’s ticking away quite quickly, and a stalemate is looking quite likely. But Baros replaces Cheyrou and the match’s given another twist, as Baros more than hassle the Chelsea rear guard with his quick feet and energy. He then leaves Desailly for dead, runs on goal and the less likely of all happens as Baros blasts high into the Anfield Road. One minute to go, Diao puts Heskey through, the latter shoots at goal, Cudicini thwarts his shot to the far post with its momentum taking the ball into Owen’s path so as to blast the ball into the unguarded net. Yesssssssssssssssssssss! Sheer, sheer joy as I nearly twist my ankle jumping up and down awkwardly! A ninety minutes of frustration is let out, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

Well then, I caught up with my mates Bill, Jim and Paul for another bevy as also I meet up with Andy Heaton and Gaby. So nice meeting them, and made a new mate there, Vic the Swan Red. It’s so great to feel welcomed, especially by that Vic fella who I only had just met. A Liverpool thing? We made our way in town for a few more, where we caught up with Vic’s mates Steve and Anne. Top people once again, and after that some curry.

 

With my mouth ulcers reeling off the curry we said our taras, and me and Vic shared a cab. I found my hosts watching some video, shared my day with them and then for the last time crashed in their offered bed. Monday, waved my last goodbye to Bill & Marg and then made my way to Lime Street to get a train to Manchester where I was to meet a cousin of mine, but the less we talk about that the better. Well, I can’t complain too much about that land, it’s got an airport which always connects me to Liverpool!

 

Always look at the brighter side of life mate!

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