Jeff Goulding - Red Odyssey: Liverpool FC 1892-2017

First published by Pitch Publishing, 2018

Pitch Publishing
A2 Yeoman Gate
Yeoman Way
Durrington

BN13 3QZ

www.pitchpublishing.co.uk

Jeff Goulding, 2018

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A CIP catalogue record is available for this book from the British Library.

Print ISBN 978-1-78531-387-5
eBook ISBN 978-1-78531-414-8

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I dedicate this book to my wife Angela, and my children; Joe, Mollie, Lucy and Sophie. Thanks for inspiring me and tolerating me in equal measure.

This is also for the 96 and all those who continue to live with the legacy of 15 April 1989.

You will never walk alone.

L IVERPOOL Football Club means so much, to so many people across the globe. Each supporter will have their own unique connection to the club. For most of us, our emotions fluctuate between love, adulation and euphoria, anger and frustration; such is the life of a football supporter. Some worship, or despise, individual players, while others focus on the tactics of the coach and team selection. Then there are those, like me, who have simply come to love the history, ethos and spirit of the club.

There are many ways to approach the task of writing a celebration of this milestone in the clubs history; 125 years of football played at Anfield. In doing so, I have decided to explore my own connection to Liverpool FC. This book will be unashamedly subjective.

As a child, growing up in Liverpool in the 1970s and 80s, the club meant everything to me. The players and the manager could do no wrong. But, beyond that, the club felt special and unique. We werent like other teams or their supporters, and it wasnt just about the trophies.

Our songs were different, and our banners were witty and often irreverent. The Kop was a joyous and anarchic place, but its humour was as fair as it was cutting.

Of course, with the passing of time and the globalisation of the game, football is a very different beast today than it was back then. I confess to being far more cynical than I was as a child and an adolescent. However, I have never lost that sense of being part of something bigger than me every time I set foot inside Anfield. Maybe thats how every football fan feels when watching their team, I dont know, but it is how I feel.

So this book will not be a recitation of facts and figures, although there are many in there. It will describe the clubs journey in the only way I know how, and with what I believe is the fuel that drives our love for it; the stories that made Liverpool FC what it is today.

I have come to realise that this is what Liverpool Football Club is; a collection of experiences and stories, passed down from one generation to the other. Of course, they get blurred along the way, but that too is part of the magic.

So I have collected 125 of them to coincide with the clubs anniversary. Wherever possible, I have included the voice of the supporter and many of these tales contain first-person perspective on some of the greatest moments in the clubs history.

I offer them as my contribution to this illustrious journey, our Red Odyssey. Enjoy!

I N June 2017, Liverpool FC turned 125 years old. This is a remarkable achievement for any enterprise, let alone a sporting institution. The club has survived relegations, scandals, two world wars and great tragedies. In all that time, it has become one of the most successful football clubs in history.

Having been born in 1967, my earliest memories of supporting Liverpool FC stem from the 1970s and I remember my early Anfield experiences vividly. While the games themselves are not so clear to me, the feelings, the sounds, smells and noise are deeply imprinted.

If I close my eyes for a moment Im transported back to a pub near the ground, with my dad and uncle. The game is an hour or so away. Im drinking Coke and a packet of crisps lies untouched on the table. Im far too excited to touch them. All I want is for kick-off to arrive, so that I can make my pilgrimage up Walton Breck Road and climb the steps on to the Kop.

The bar is filling up and more of my dads mates have joined us. The noise escalates, and I can just make out fragments of conversation over the clink of glasses and the mutterings of Kopites crammed into the pub. Theres laughter, swearing and apologies. Someone winks at me and says, No good saying sorry to him now, hell hear much worse in the ground.

More laughter and someone tousles my hair. My heart is bursting. Theres a picture of the team on the wall with cups at their feet. Its Liverpool and soon Ill see them up close.

This was a rite of passage and I was part of a community, much bigger than anything Id encountered before, and the sense of togetherness had to be experienced to be fully understood. I was following in my dads footsteps and those who had gone before him. I felt ten feet tall.

Now Im being handed a succession of drinks. Soon Ive got a collection of unfinished lemonades and juices on the table. My uncle tells me, Go easy lad or youll be peeing in your shoes with all that in your belly. I would later see the wisdom in his words.

We were in the Kop for this game and packed in tight. The air is full of sweat, cigarette smoke and the smell of stale ale. Its a heady brew. We find ourselves somewhere near the middle of the terrace, between the two great pillars supporting the roof, and the toilets are a distant dream. It doesnt matter though, because kick-off is approaching.

The crowd is swaying back and forth and side to side. Im only small and cant see much. Then a man Id never met lifts me up and sits me on a crash barrier. I think nothing of it. It seems the most natural thing in the world. Suddenly the whole stadium lies before me. I see the pitch and my heart soars.

I have seen Anfield on Match of the Day many times but this is something else. The grass is so green. Sounds stupid I know, but this is the first thing that strikes me. The crowd are so loud, and the noise seems to be coming from everywhere.

Emotions swell up inside and Im getting a lump in my throat. I think Im going to cry, but thats unthinkable. I swallow hard and join in with the singing. My voice is small and lost in the cacophony. I dont care, Im doing my bit. Im part of it all.

Even now, in the big games, when the stakes are high enough and the Kop rolls back the years, the ghosts of those first Anfield experiences return and I get that same lump in the throat and tear in my eye.

This is the Liverpool I fell in love with as a kid. Its been a love affair that has burned for more than 40 years. Ive been lucky enough to see this team win everything. As Ive aged and had kids of my own, naturally I have done all I can to immerse them in that great community and let them witness that green grass up close, as have countless Kopites down the years.