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Before I went on holiday, dad bought me the book written by Brian Reade called "43 Years With The Same Bird" to read on the plane or by the pool. It is about his (Brian Reade's, not my dads!) 43 years of supporting Liverpool. I'm a pretty slow reader so it took me 12 days to read the book. It was a brilliant read and I learned a lot of things about the club from before I was born (bearing in mind I was born in 1989, that's a lot of things). Some very interesting stories about conversations he had with Shankly and Paisley after they had retired and some moving stories about both Heysel and Hillsborough. There were also some disgraceful stories of the way some players treated Roy Evans as manager. Neil Ruddock, fuck you! Anyway, has anyone else read the book? If not, I would recommend it to you all.

As a fairly irregular visitor to these shores my apologies in advance if this has been covered before, but I'm just not feeling it this season and wondered if anyone else felt the same? By this I mean I'm hoping that the big game at the weekend really kick-starts my enthusiasm for the season ahead and the game in general. My worry is that my enthusiasm has never really needed a kick-start before. Normally, the build up to the season, the promise to myself that I'm going to get to more games, the theme tune to the first MOTD all gets me going. This season however I'm feeling every so slightly disaffected with the whole thing. Maybe it's because a lot of the focus here and at other clubs has been on the board-room, owners and directors rather than the footie. Maybe it's because we've not had a big league game yet, and not played well in the games we have had. I don't think that's it though as this is hardly new for the start of a season. Unlike many on here, I realise, I usually get into the England thing as well, but with those games being covered by those cunts at Setanta, coupled with none of our lot in the squad, and I guess the fact the England team are not only playing without passion, but also contains no real characters like it has in the past (a troubled but brilliant Gazza, a neck-vein-busting Stuart Pearce, or the like), for the first time, I've not even watched the World-Cup qualifiers. I'm not really into any other sports, so it's not like the Olympics or the tennis have stolen the limelight. If Liverpool v ManU doesn't light the fire this weekend, I fear nothing will. Maybe the game has changed and left me behind, or maybe I have changed and left the game behind. I hope not. I hope this is a temporary feeling that will evapourate at the weekend, and I'm sure it will, but right now it feels like it's all so far been a bit of a damp quib.