Anfield witnessed it’s finest celebrations through feelings of togetherness and happy memories as Liverpool clinched league title number 20…
ANFIELD’s greatest ever day.
Memories written into eternity. Folklore once again etched into this great city. This heritage site of a stadium.
The sunshine beamed down to accompany a party of red. It was a carnival of joy. The biggest of days. A city wearing its highest heels and curliest blow. It loves to show itself off.
You write of these days because they become fitting accompaniments to the streets and landmarks of this great place.
You’ve never seen Anfield like it, inside or out.
When I was 13 years old I sold scarves and badges outside the garage at The Kop. I’d spend the £20 I’d get on a ticket outside the ground from anyone who had a spare.
I watched players come and go. I watched people come and go.
Liverpool became an education. Shankly, Hillsborough, Wembley South, four European Cups. Liverpool is royalty. Liverpool is unique.
You learn this from being there if you’re lucky enough. If not – the branches of this thing sprawl out so vastly that origin stories become cherished fables of how a person ends up at this door.
Our parents play a huge part. It was so warming to see so many generations present of all ages in the stadium, sharing that moment with each other.
There will be many lost in all our lives. Those we know would have adored being there to see Liverpool do it again. You hold that person near. You think about the 97.
The fabric of football connects us to new friendships and opportunities. In the euphoria of Sunday we live and breathe this wonderful, hazy celebration in unison.
We’re worthy champions but lucky to have each other. To have connection and life in this moment is purified even more by the context surrounding it.
Liverpool FC gives us days of our lives. When you win a league title, it’s a day we get to relive one more time.
The sobering thought of loss can hit hardest in these moments. Oh, how they would have loved this. But the memory brings them back. It makes them eternal.
We talk to them and about them in the present tense. We feel them with us.
When I interviewed him for Jurgen Said To Me, Neil Jones talked about coming out of Anfield on the night of the trophy lift against Chelsea – describing the eeriness of the occasion perfectly:
‘I remember leaving Anfield, probably just after midnight, and there wasn’t a soul about. The media entrance was part of the red zone, so was fenced off. I think that, possibly, was when the strangeness of it all hit me. I should have been fighting my way through the happiest, drunkest and most vibrant crowds I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t. I was walking to my car alone, a 30-year dream realised but an unavoidable feeling of “this isn’t how it was meant to be.”
Sunday was exactly how this was meant to be. It was joyous, communal and packed with so much emotion. However you did it, whoever you were with, it will be cherished forever.
Those passed are brought into the present through days like this. They were there with us all.
We get to do it one more time.
Side Note: Last night my book was nominated in the football category at the Sports Book of The Year awards in London. Although it didn’t win, I’m incredibly proud to have made the final shortlist with so many other esteemed titles. Thank you for your continued support with this project and to all of you who have left wonderful feedback on reading it.
