One afternoon in Anfield - Goldilocks and his 3 Golden Goals. Liverpool 3 Manchester Utd 1...(they're not singing anymore)

The KOP end - clearly too much excitement caused me to arrive this early

Oh. My. Goal scoring father of all things beautiful - God. If there is one wish all Liverpool fans ever want granted, apart from taking home a glinting piece of silver, it's a tantalizing win against Manchester United at Anfield. And Dalglish's army certainly didn't disappoint yesterday! With Manchester United missing defender Vidic from their earlier loss against Chelsea, and Liverpool's rising star right-back Kelly out for a month from an injury with the home side's loss against West Ham last sunday, no one knew what lay ahead for the two teams who are so far still tied at 18 league titles. And of course, I still hadn't heard whether or not £35million signing Carroll was going to make his much awaited debut.

So off I went Northbound towards my adoptive home in the shape of Anfield, with hope in my heart that we would in no way repeat the embarrassment of a week earlier when we lost 3-1 to West Ham (of all teams). Waiting to buy a match day programme, once I was inside the Stadium, I was politely asked by a lovely Welsh gentleman clutching a betting slip as to what I thought would be the outcome of the game. Now, the last time I was asked to help someone make a bet in Anfield was back in January 2010, when I correctly predicted Liverpool to win 3-1 against Bolton. So of course, I went ahead and said the same. Then right behind me I could hear two gentlemen having this exact conversation;

"I'm gonna put down Luis Suarez for a Hat trick, like. Or shall I do Carroll for 3?"

"Nah mate, I say put down Dirk Kuyt for a hatter"

"Nah, he ain't gonna get a hat trick mate, Carroll, or Suarez?"

"I'm saying Kuyt."

"I'm putting down Suarez. Your a d*ck". <---No, YOUR the 'idiot' here my friend!

Foul aroma from those standing up - Utd fans alluringly close.

Not only was I right with us winning 3-1 and there's a Welshman somewhere wishing he'd asked me lottery numbers too, but that poor man behind me
was right and his mate would have won hundreds!
Anyway, as i sat down an hour early in my seat in the Anfield Road stand, I looked to my right to see a mass of ugliness in the form of Manchester United supporters. Yes, I love nothing more than sitting right next to the away fans, and it was even more enthralling knowing they weren't the average Blackpool or Birmingham crowd (well, it is Man Utd so it probably was people from Birmingham as real Mancunians support City/Citeh), but the devils themselves that make belting out all the swearwords in the English and Irish dictionary even more delightful to sing. It was inevitable that this was going to be one hell of a fixture.

As the game kicked off, Van Der Sar was in goal at our end, and so was all the action. In the opening minutes, Suarez just missed tapping in a wonderful ball from Meireles, who handled the ball with a little more caution than usual but nevertheless, still brilliant in his finishes. I only remember two shots that Manchester United being able to take in the first half, one of which was an eye watering close call by Dimitar Berbatov which missed Pepe Reina's reach in front of the Kop just far enough to skim the sidebar and deflect out. In our defence, I was thoroughly missing my favourite Trojan warrior, Greek defender Kyrgiakos, so when Aurelio was substituted with a Hamstring injury, I was incredibly happy to see the man with the iron forehead come on and straight away mould himself into the penalty area for Manchester free kick which almost went in if it wasn't for Meireles quick thinking in placing himself in goal next to Reina!

Then...Kuyt happened. Twice. In what would be his first goal ever against Manchester United, Dirk Kuyt was almost too perfectly placed barely a yard away from the goal when Suarez refused to let the away players get near his ball, hanging onto it for dear life, tangled with opposing players yet still controlling it himself on the edge of the box, and as he tapped towards what we thought was a shot into the goal, he actually slipped it cleverly through the invitingly open legs of Van Der Sar towards Kuyt who barely had to breathe on the ball to have it float into the back of the net and send a roar through us all. A wonderful first for Kuyt and superb assist by the ex Ajax striker. And yes i was screeching in the most girly fashion because it happened right in front of me. Swell! Yet 5 minutes later, Kuyt caught the scoring against Man U bug and netted another cuing us all in the Anfield road end to stand and sing 'Your not singing anymore' to our wonderfully quiet neighbours! Oh what a feeling, you must now understand why I chose to sit so close to them. And once we finished singing that, we then sang this....(click the video to hear us telling them what they need to hear!)

Cry Me a River - Oscar nomination guaranteed

Much to my excitement, and this may sound quite disturbing, there was a lovely manly scuffle which ended in blood. Now it wouldn't be the clash of the Titans without a little bit of the red stuff on the pitch? Unexpectedly, it wasn't just red stuff pouring out from Nani's leg after a rough and painful studs up challenge by our favourite, red card loving Carragher, but there was some of the clear crocodile stuff flowing from Nani's eyes. I didn't see the tears while at the game, but i'm sure by now every google result containing Nani, will now have the word 'crying' next to it. Now, football is a mans game, i'm sure, and even our favourite Prima Donna Christiano Ronaldo never squeezed out a single tear when he slipped and slid like an amputated ballet dancer. But Nani, are you kidding me? Ok it looked painful, Carra only got a yellow and yes he should really have got a red, not that that would have impacted the score in any way as we were already 2-0 up, but there is something seriously wrong about a footballer who sobs with his bottom lip hanging out in result to a gash to his leg. Yes it looked very painful and as a girl, I would cry. But Nani, as far as I know, is a boy. I'm sorry, but only Arsenal's scarily injured duo Eduardo and Ramsay can get away with real tears. Nani, you just need to man up! A part of me wished that Carra did get a red, not for the challenge, but for doing us all a favour and landing Nani with a right hook for being such a girl. Too bad that our defender has more sense than I, and was seen after the game visiting the Utd changing room to say sorry to Nani. Sweet to see that all play is not dirty and our men have manners....

Kuyt and Meireles celebrate the Dutch mans third in front of the KOP

The second half saw yet another goal from Kuyt, much to the annoyance of all utd fans (and the scouse dude who didn't listen to his mates advice on hattrick betting), which left Van Der Sar eating his words when remembering how once upon a time, he told his fellow Dutchman that there would be no way he score past him while he's in goal. Errrm. Yeah, he managed three. In the same game. Less than 5 yards away each time. Kyrgiakos showed Manchester United how to clear a ball, even at his ripe old age, in fact the ball literally developed a crush on the defenders forehead because it spent so much time bouncing back and forth off it and back into the path of a fellow red, right in front of us and the away supporters in the Anfield Road End. There are defenders in the premier league younger than our ageing Greek who are nowhere near as alert, he never loses an ounce of energy, and has only improved further under Dalglish.

And then came THE moment the world had been waiting for when we all found out Carroll had signed for Ye Olde Liverpool. As I waved goodbye to the beautiful Meireles, still waiting for him to answer to my cries of whether he would marry me or not, on came the new Liverpool number nine. Within mere seconds of tottering onto the pitch looking scarily like Kyrgiakos, he headed the ball (again, like Kyrgiakos) as it came to him, right on target, saved by a swift Van Der Sar.  And this is where I shall finish this post, because in a nutshell, Liverpool won 3-1 with a late injury time goal from united, I never saw who scored because it was that insignificant. Need I say any more when I have a video that says it all?

An amazing day came to a great conclusion with some great goals from Kuyt, fantastic assists from Suarez and Meireles, amazing clearances from Kyrgiakos and Lucas and of course, the King with the biggest smile, Kenny...

I leave you with the video of Carroll's first few moments as a Liverpool player. Who was your star man and why? Feel free to comment below :-)

One night in Europe...From Anfield with Love

The Sky at Night - Perfect Evening at Anfield

Last night, was truly special for this birdie. After travelling north from my midlands abode to see many a 
Liverpool match, I finally saw my very first European game at Anfield. And wasn't it just marvellous? Coming to watch us play Sparta Praha (Prague) in the second leg of our Europa League campaign I sat in the Kop end, only the 9th row back which was mind frazzlingly close to the grass itself (so close i could smell the manly mustiness of Reina's sweaty body), and among some completely fantastic but insane fans. Just the way I like it! I just knew I would be in for one of the craziest nights at Anfield I could possibly witness, and to think it only gets better when it's a Champions League night....

Justice For The 96 - Always in our Hearts

The weather had been just fantastic all day and as I sat down, the sky turned a beautiful mix of blue, purple and pink over the stadium. The fans, the floodlights, the Liverpool badge above the stands of Anfield, the scores of children coming to see their favourite team play whilst on half term, the players we admire warming up, the banner that reminded us never to forget the 96, and most of all, hearing the sound of thousands of fans singing 'Anfield Road', I couldn't help but get goosebumps while i sung along, watching the famous flags unravel in front of me, ready to wave. I must have remembered I'm a woman in there somewhere, because, as ever, my eyes welled up.

Perfect view - How could i not photograph this moment?

After I had stemmed the flow of tears with yet another kleenex, I duly reapplied some mascara, not just because i looked like my neighbour had given me a black eye for being such a typical woman, but so my lashes were at the ready to flutter at number 25, and after convincing a cute little scouse boy behind me to shout his name while they warmed up, I did indeed flutter and almost pass out as my Spanish heart throb turned and seemingly looked right at me (I think it was a generic look into the crowd but i felt the connection with my eyes; he wanted me).

Repka's Posse - Sparta Praha fans

Once the stadium filled slowly, I couldn't help but notice how many away fans were actually there. Granted it was hard to see from the opposite end but I have that eagle vision which reads hallmarks on jewellery without a magnifying glass, so I could see that nearly every seat was occupied by a fan. Every game I have attended, even the opener of the season against Arsenal, I haven't seen that many away fans before. But as one of my Kop neighbours explained 'it's the beauty of European games, you get to see the real passionate fans of the opposing team come all the way here to support their men, and hopefully go home crying'. Heartwarming. And those Spartans were passionate indeed! They tried to compete with the Kops singing, but in the end we out sung them, although they kept as much faith all the way through the game.
 

As the match kicked off, and Reina was in goal at the Kop end, I started to think about what the outcome should be to this game, and not just the obvious such as Repka's head meeting a goalpost and splitting open or Reina celebrating a first half goal by ripping his shirt off because he was standing twiddling his thumbs so close by (seriously he had nothing to do as all the action was at the other end, just how we like it). So because I was sitting right by the right hand corner flag,

Perfect Corner = Goal!

I hoped that all the corners would be taken by Meireles and that all the goals we scored would be in the second half, so they could be scored right in front of me. 


When i first mentioned the idea to my neighbour he thought i needed psychiatric help for not wanting Liverpool to score in the first half...

...But talk about a dream come true! 

After a dismal first half which saw Ngog in some absolutely sexually perfect positions but still not managing to score, there came, in the second half, the first and only corner for Liverpool, rightfully taken by Meireles, who once again, was a mere 3 metres away from me as he took it from my neighbourly flag, and as the crowd chanted his name, a swift kick into the penalty area saw Kuyt heading the ball into the back of the net, right in front of us goal crazy Kopites!


And whats more, I caught it all on camera, although the actual ball-in-net moment is lost amidst the crazy jumping. Not that I cared in the slightest about that; I saw Reina's eyes meet mine before kick off, Meireles take the corner right by me, Kuyt score in front of me and we won the game, so for me all was not lost. King Kenny made it happen for us, his presence in Anfield only elevated that thrill of a win. And as my neighbour said to me once upon a time before kick off, the visitors indeed went home crying.

Kiss My Arselona...

Who would have thought it? Barcelona losing to Arsenal? Oh but it happened in the most unlikely fashion! To those who didn't watch, (hermit crabs, junkies, politicians), Arsenal hosted the first leg of their Champions League last 16 showdown against Barcelona last night. And a good 90% of the population knew the home side wouldn't cut the mustard against Barcelona. A quick look around the bookies, (ironically full of hermit crabs, junkies and politicians), odds were pretty much reflective of that, as it was 3/1 for Arsenal to win. Well done to those who kept faith in the British side and bet on them winning because, after letting in a goal in the first half, they came back with 2 simply wonderful displays of footballing poetry.

Up until  the second half and 2 much needed substitutions, Arsenal were showing us how not to play football. Some passes were ok-ish, some passes were so off the mark you would think they were passing to the fans or an invisible buddy, others were the equivalent of picking up the ball and neatly placing it at the feet of a Catalan player. Walcott was the clumsiest child of them all. The away side showed us how to play skillful football, with speedy, neat touches, ballet like footwork and an annoying amount of perfectly executed back-passes. I mean seriously, one of these days they'll play a whole match kicking backwards. So odds at half time of Arsenal winning were a justified 16/1 with Barcelona leading with one goal from David Villa. Anyhoo, a minute after said clumsy shoes Walcott left, Van Persie scored a beauty that he shot from so close to the by-line that even the keeper didn't see it coming and. And Arshavin scored the winner a few minutes later and the gooners went crazy, for once upon a time Barcelona  took home a Champions League trophy with a 2-1 win over Arsenal in the gunner's first and only time in a CL final.

Arsene - the biggest daddy of them all

Best moment for me was seeing Van Persie celebrate by running over to Arsene Wenger and giving him a big old hug. Heartwarming.  Why was this my favourite moment? No, it's not because I'm a girl and we get emotional over these things. It's because that one act of appreciation shows just why Arsenal can, and should, topple the giants of European football, for they possess something those teams don't. And it's not just the ability to put your arms around another human being.

In football, to obtain success there is a die hard level of managers believing in their players, and telling those players to believe in themselves, to believe they are the next Pele. Which, if it works, will most of the time turn them into really great, talented players but with a slight tendency to become totally self absorbed and think they are bigger and better than the club. Not so much the case with Arsenal. Wenger doesn't just believe in his players. They believe in him. And maybe that can only come from years and years of experience. And if there is one thing young managers like Guardiola should learn from him, it is that you need to know how to fall and to fail before you can learn how to get up and succeed. And Wenger has been there through it all for 15 years.

Granted, since he took the helm in 1996 Arsenal haven't finished below 4th in the league but they have finished in some dismal places in Europe. And it's extra painful when the historical first and only time he took them to a Champions League final, they lost. Wenger has nurtured most of his players from the day they could crawl, so he isn't just a manager, he's a father figure. If seen through the eyes of a player, Arsene is a man who has managed you since you were still a boy, harnessed your talent, watched you and helped you become a world class player, and even built the stadium you call home. So of course they feel like they owe it to him above all else. Everytime they have done badly in a game, whether that be just the first half or the whole 90 minutes, they never want to turn it around for themselves; they turn it around for him. And this united feeling amongst the team will always keep their team united. (Though that was not the case for serial footballing whore Adebayor once upon a time).

Ok so it's not like Guardiola manages a bunch of Diva's, and he's been there a couple of years, but the player-manager relationship is completely different. Barcelona players are simply the god's of football. Guardiola is a very clever manager. Yes he inherited a great team, but so did Benitez with Internazionale and that balloon deflated instantly. So Guardiola is a young man with intelligence. The player-manager understanding and commitment is flawless. But the relationship isn't personable. And when the going gets tough, they will lose out to a team like Arsenal who have almost as amazing players, but have the one thing Barcelona do not have; the drive to want it even more for the man who made them the elite class they are today. They should really have played like that from the very first minute but passion doesn't flare up from just wanting something, sometimes you'll only see what you want when it's is being ripped from your very hands on your own turf. In the same sense, Arsenal can achieve anything if they played every single game for their manager. Basic instinct has determined that you will always fight harder for someone else than you will for yourself. 

Similarly, in the case of Liverpool, Dalglish may have only become manager in the last month, but the relationship between him and the players is so personal. He is the king of Anfield. The father those players never met, but still the father nonetheless. They want that personal relationship that they haven't experienced and Dalglish is only more than willing in his true home. He is Liverpool. The players know the real daddy is back. And it is not themselves, it is Dalglish they now play for.