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SATURDAY I was playing cornet with the brass band at a steam train festival before heading up to the disco festival. That is a funny sentence, isn’t it? I sometimes think my life is wandering from one unusual thing to another. Slightly late. They were both fun, though. Bring back steam trains and disco. They were happier times.

I leave this disco festival a bit early to meet Wayne from Red Touch Media and his family for dinner. His son plays for LFC Foundation in Utah who I am pleased to hear are winning lots of games of football. They are playing as we eat and he is anxious to hear the score. Although I can’t figure out if he is more worried about losing the game or losing his goal scoring record to his mate.

We get a train home and are in bed fairly early. Me and my wife that is, not me and Wayne. I’m out early Sunday because we are meeting up to put beer mats out in the pubs round Anfield. We had a high powered marketing meeting about how we could spread the word of The Anfield Wrap more outside of social media and came up with something that would allow us to go into even more pubs. Look out for Anfield Wrap beer mats coming to a pub near you.

On the bus to Anfield a German fella sits by me and asks me how easy it is to get tickets by the ground. I’m a bit scared he might get ripped off as, to be honest, he looks like someone who I’d rip off if I was a mean tout. I reckon he’d buy a cracker with Liverpool v Southampton written on it with crayon. So a couple of texts later I’ve got him a spare in The Kop. Great to know the people I sort tickets for has finally extended to complete strangers on the bus.

When I get off the bus it’s 11:45am and the game doesn’t kick off until 1:30pm so I arrange to meet my new German friend at 1pm when he has had a look around and I have put beer mats in pubs. While I am doing that two lads approach me and say “I just heard on the bus you are selling tickets”. Well not really lads, but anyway. I agree to see if I hear anything and take their number.

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I put some beer mats in some pubs and have a beer in The Glenbuck. I’m meeting Colin, who is our Rangers fan we use for Scottish football, who is down with his son, a Liverpool fan. Soon two tickets do come up so I ring the lads from the bus. They say “Oh, we are in now. We just bought some off some touts. But I’ve got your number now for the future.” Absolutely brilliant.

Soon my dad arrives so we head up to the ground. We are sat by Dave Pich who runs Sound City. I introduce him to my dad and the first thing my dad does is moan to him about not being able to take his own butties into the festival. Pich is rather taken aback by this, I feel. I’m sure he is used to people moaning about stuff to him, but I’m not sure he has ever had the very first thing someone said to him be a complaint about sandwiches. Pich agrees to get special dispensation so my dad can take his own butties into Sound City this summer. A rare victory for the common man.

The match is rubbish, init. Reckon J├╝rgen Klopp should have brought the subs on earlier. That said I can’t believe James Milner doesn’t score the penalty. That’s his thing and everything. I fully expected him to bury it and then bury the ball right in Fraser Forster’s grid. Never make it easy, do we?

After the game I am meant to go home but predictably don’t. One or two in The Glenbuck turns into “might as well watch the end of the Arsenal United game,” which turns into “well there is a taxi going to town that is on the way home” to not being able to remember getting home. I do remember Craig Hannan repeatedly making us leave bars to go to other ones when we still had drinks, though. Social Media Shaun was fuming. Oh, and they wouldn’t let me into Popworld because I had shorts on. What a life high that was.

Up the jam butty mine Reds.

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