What the champions league final means to me
Posted: Fri Jun 10, 2005 11:13 pm
I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. I've just downloaded these two clips and watched them, and I sh!t you not, I'm filling up. I'm completely overwhelmed by everything that has happened to my club over the last two weeks, that it's all I can think about, day and night.
My brother bought the DVD immediately from eBAY as soon as a bright spark had put it up there which he'd recorded from SKY Plus and I've watched it three times. I am downloading as much as I can take in, my e-season ticket has took a battering, and my eyes cannot stop streaming tears of joy at what has happened to our great club. I mean it, I never ever in my wildest dreams thought I'd ever feel as good as I do right now over football. I'm not a weepy cryer, it's taken me quite by surprise what is happening to me whenever I see pictures or clips of our magical night. I'm not ashamed of admitting it. I love what's happening right now and it's very emotional.
If I'm going to be brutally honest with myself and you also, I didn't ever think we had a chance of winning it. Sure, I'm a positive thinker, I don't like to criticise my club, I am currently wrestling with the thought of criticising Harry Kewell but I want to see him 100% fit to play before I gauge whether or not his appetite has gone. I am giving him that chance.
But when we made the last 16 and drew Bayer Leverkusen, I would have been happy to say that in a new managers' first season, we got to the last 16 in the top competition in Europe. Not bad going if we lose. To destroy Bayer Leverkusen over the two legs though was beautiful. I celebrated like a lunatic.
To do the same to Juventus was terrific. We had made the last four. Again, if we went out, nothing to be ashamed of.
The Chelsea game at Anfield will stay with us all forever for obvious reasons. Still, I didn't expect it. I wouldn't allow myself to think we would win it in case of crushing and bitter disappointment.
Afterwards, something spiritual had reached inside me an convinced me that whatever was going to transpire in Istanbul, we would not leave Turkey without that cup. One way or another, we were going to do it. I definitely felt it before the final. It wasn't there for the Carling Cup final against Chelsea, or there when we won all the Cups under Houllier, but something told me we were going to win this one. That's all I can say, I haven't got the words to describe the feeling. The nearest words I can think of are fate and destiny. I held no fear for AC Milan.
I was surfing through the Telegraph website earlier, and there was a picture of Vladimir Smicer, just after he had scored our second goal, and you all know the image I'm talking about. You could see the raw power and emotion on his face, he was roaring, and it was one of the moments of the night, possibly when Milan, whose bottle had gone after Gerrard's goal (see Gattuso's comments), realised the balance of power had shifted, knowing there was nothing they could do about the shift in power being played out in front of their eyes as we steamrollered over them to get ourselves back into the game, aided and abetted by the twelfth man on the terraces.
It's a photograph of Smicer for fu*k's sake and the hairs on my arms were standing on end. But it's a symbol of victory for Liverpool Football Club.
The memory of this match will never ever die. Look at the wallpaper/screensaver I have made. The poem that the mysterious Baz has written is one of the most powerful and uplifting pieces I have ever read in my life. Admittedly I don't hold an interest in poetry, and I know nothing about it, but it moved me to tears. I keep filling up every time I read it. Read it and you will see what I mean.
The two clips I am including in this post are just the latest that have moved me. And I am sitting at my brothers PC on a Friday night when I should be out partying like most 25 year old men, and all I want to do is look for the next clip, the next interview, the next shot of Steven Gerrard lifting the European Cup, maybe from a different angle, the next picture of our modest, talented and world class manager Rafael Benitez just hinting to everyone with that knowing smile of his that he knows that we have fulfilled our destiny by bringing the Cup home again for keeps this time, that you would be a lucky person indeed to ever witness anything as dramatic, tortuous, uplifting and inspiring as May 25th 2005 in Istanbul and also, he knows that this is just the beginning of the journey, we have not seen anything yet, not by a long way.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a montage screened by Sky Sports at the end of the broadcast.
And Sean Connery with an emotional rendition of The Beatles' In My Life.
My brother bought the DVD immediately from eBAY as soon as a bright spark had put it up there which he'd recorded from SKY Plus and I've watched it three times. I am downloading as much as I can take in, my e-season ticket has took a battering, and my eyes cannot stop streaming tears of joy at what has happened to our great club. I mean it, I never ever in my wildest dreams thought I'd ever feel as good as I do right now over football. I'm not a weepy cryer, it's taken me quite by surprise what is happening to me whenever I see pictures or clips of our magical night. I'm not ashamed of admitting it. I love what's happening right now and it's very emotional.
If I'm going to be brutally honest with myself and you also, I didn't ever think we had a chance of winning it. Sure, I'm a positive thinker, I don't like to criticise my club, I am currently wrestling with the thought of criticising Harry Kewell but I want to see him 100% fit to play before I gauge whether or not his appetite has gone. I am giving him that chance.
But when we made the last 16 and drew Bayer Leverkusen, I would have been happy to say that in a new managers' first season, we got to the last 16 in the top competition in Europe. Not bad going if we lose. To destroy Bayer Leverkusen over the two legs though was beautiful. I celebrated like a lunatic.
To do the same to Juventus was terrific. We had made the last four. Again, if we went out, nothing to be ashamed of.
The Chelsea game at Anfield will stay with us all forever for obvious reasons. Still, I didn't expect it. I wouldn't allow myself to think we would win it in case of crushing and bitter disappointment.
Afterwards, something spiritual had reached inside me an convinced me that whatever was going to transpire in Istanbul, we would not leave Turkey without that cup. One way or another, we were going to do it. I definitely felt it before the final. It wasn't there for the Carling Cup final against Chelsea, or there when we won all the Cups under Houllier, but something told me we were going to win this one. That's all I can say, I haven't got the words to describe the feeling. The nearest words I can think of are fate and destiny. I held no fear for AC Milan.
I was surfing through the Telegraph website earlier, and there was a picture of Vladimir Smicer, just after he had scored our second goal, and you all know the image I'm talking about. You could see the raw power and emotion on his face, he was roaring, and it was one of the moments of the night, possibly when Milan, whose bottle had gone after Gerrard's goal (see Gattuso's comments), realised the balance of power had shifted, knowing there was nothing they could do about the shift in power being played out in front of their eyes as we steamrollered over them to get ourselves back into the game, aided and abetted by the twelfth man on the terraces.
It's a photograph of Smicer for fu*k's sake and the hairs on my arms were standing on end. But it's a symbol of victory for Liverpool Football Club.
The memory of this match will never ever die. Look at the wallpaper/screensaver I have made. The poem that the mysterious Baz has written is one of the most powerful and uplifting pieces I have ever read in my life. Admittedly I don't hold an interest in poetry, and I know nothing about it, but it moved me to tears. I keep filling up every time I read it. Read it and you will see what I mean.
The two clips I am including in this post are just the latest that have moved me. And I am sitting at my brothers PC on a Friday night when I should be out partying like most 25 year old men, and all I want to do is look for the next clip, the next interview, the next shot of Steven Gerrard lifting the European Cup, maybe from a different angle, the next picture of our modest, talented and world class manager Rafael Benitez just hinting to everyone with that knowing smile of his that he knows that we have fulfilled our destiny by bringing the Cup home again for keeps this time, that you would be a lucky person indeed to ever witness anything as dramatic, tortuous, uplifting and inspiring as May 25th 2005 in Istanbul and also, he knows that this is just the beginning of the journey, we have not seen anything yet, not by a long way.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a montage screened by Sky Sports at the end of the broadcast.
And Sean Connery with an emotional rendition of The Beatles' In My Life.