The Friday Thing #674

Apparently it’s Friday today but who knows…it could just as easily be Tuesday ??

The Friday Thing #674 begins with solving a mystery a few of you asked about. The eagled eyes among you (all of you that is) may have noticed that you didn’t get a Friday Thing in email last week…yet, this week’s Friday thing has jumped from 672 to 674. So where is the mysterious 673 edition? Well, given last Friday was Juneteenth and many were using the day to march, learn and reflect, I decided not to fill inboxes with more email and posted #673 to LinkedIn. Head on over there for a great illustrated conversation with a tiny human.

As for this edition, well there is really only one story I can share this week and that’s about a thirty year wait. Facebook wasn’t around thirty years ago but I remember when I joined the site and filled out my profile. One of the questions you were asked back then when filling out your profile was “what is your religion?”. I instinctively answered Liverpool Football Club. My place of worship was Anfield – home of the Spion Kop and the place my Dad used to take my brother and I every other Saturday as he worked as a ‘gateman’ and steward at the home of Liverpool FC. It seemed totally normal after a while that I would get up on a Saturday morning and drive in to the city to arrive early to the ground with my Dad. We’d walk in through the players entrance and past the home team changing rooms. Occasionally we’d see a player from earlier years as they gathered at the ground for various duties before the team arrived close to the 3pm kick off. All games back then kicked off at 3pm, before the era the Premier League, Sky Sports and big money. We’d wander further down the corridor and my Dad would lift me up so I could touch the vaunted “This is Anfield” sign before entering the stadium and walking around the field of play towards his assigned gate for game. My brother and I would huddle in the back of the small turnstile entrance while my Dad collected tickets and money and around 3:05pm we’d close the gate and make our way in to the stadium to find a seat. We always won back in those days – it was the early eighties and Liverpool were in their prime – amassing 18 wins of the domestic league cup as it was called back then. Typically, with Liverpool in the lead, we’d begin to leave the ground about 5 minutes before the end of the game….but we’d never miss the last kick – that would be against our religion, even if we were losing. We’d slowly walk around the running track at the side of the pitch, heading towards the exit while watching from the same vantage point as the players, stewards and police. Nobody batted an eyelid as my Dad, brother and I strolled halfway around the field.

And then it all changed. My Dad got a new job and didn’t work at Anfield anymore. I moved away from Liverpool to attend university at Loughborough and then moved to Reading and London when I joined Microsoft. But what really changed was Liverpool’s utter dominance of the domestic game. I thought it was a blip to begin with as we won other trophies, but the one that counted most, the domestic title was elusive. What’s more, our fiercest rival, Manchester United began to dominate in the same way we once had. And then Arsenal, and Chelsea and Manchester City. And before I knew it, that blip had become thirty years without a domestic title. It’s scarcely believable.

And then, four years ago, the cycle started to change again. Jurgen Klopp became our manager and there was a sense that time it could be different. Here was a man cut from the same cloth as legends who’d gone before him. A man who understood what this team meant to this city. It’s not that others before him didn’t know that, but he ignited the latent passion and in the same way the Seattle Seahawks have their ‘12th man’ the fanbase of Liverpool began to believe again. But they had also been so close, so many times including last year – missing out by a single point. But this time it would be different. This season would be Liverpool’s…..and it was, right until Covid-19 struck. For a brief moment, there was talk that the season would be written off….null and void. That whole idea left me feeling null and void. Ultimately, the season began again a few weeks ago – behind closed doors. Liverpool got off to an inauspicious start with a 0-0 draw against cross town (well, across the park really) rivals, Everton FC. The second game Liverpool played on Wednesday of this week was a masterclass and a statement of intent. The finish line was in sight – with a commanding 22 point lead over Manchester City. And then City slipped up and lost yesterday to Chelsea. And that was it. 30 years of pain, wiped out. It took a while to sink in…aided by a glass or two of champagne and a few text messages with friends and family. I was taken back to those moments as a 7 or 8 year old kid, touching that “This is Anfield” sign and relishing the victory with my own kids. I don’t know what religion they will follow as they grow up…but I do know one of them will be Liverpool. That’s what it means to our city, to our fans, to me, my Dad and my brother. This video may give you a sense of my last 24 hours…and thirty years.

Have a great weekend. Take care all and stay safe.

And to the Reds among you – congrats. #YNWA

-Steve