Was settling down to watch the preview show on sky, wondering how long it would be before Thommo would snap at Gray and Keys when I got the call: "Lad, bit of a problem." "What." "I'll call round in five minutes and explain it then"
Five to ten minutes later, the lad pulls up in his car, so I go and dive in, "What's up Paul" "I've lost my passport, ripped the house apart looking for it, I just can't find it, I feel F***ing sick, you know the way I'm feeling." True, it had been two weeks or so since everyone had sorted out their flights and I was missing out, Ā£200 short, a nan dying not long after promising to try and help me if I got stuck, another nan so F***ing stingy, I wouldn't even ask to borrow a tenner.
"We should be able to get the flight sorted in your name, might cost you Ā£20/Ā£25 but your going to Istanbul, lad!" Took me a few minutes for it to register and seeing as I'd felt so F***ing miserable for the previous week, I wasn't going to start acting like a soft c**t, so I told Paul again was he sure he couldn't remember where he had left his passport. "I usually have it in a file with the missus' and kid's passports. It's not there." Just as he was about to drive us down to Speke.
"Then I'd better go and get mine."
So we got to the airport, enquire who we have top speak to, the actual person we had to speak to wasn't there, but we were told they'd be there in the morning, it would cost Ā£25 to change the flight details. F***ing brilliant I'm going!!
Spent a few hours going through every conceivable reason that would stop me leaving the country, while attempting to watch some telly and eventually get my head down. Sky news was left on as they kept replaying the scenes from Taksim Sq of the first mob of scouse invaders were rattling through some of our numbers. I eventually managed to get an hours kip between 3 and 4am, before being awoken with a bacon and egg sarnie and a cuppa.
Shower, throw some clothes on, my first European Cup Final, went to Dortmund but didn't wear a red shirt that night, so decided to wear the red shirt from the season before.
We get to the airport for around 5am, flight is sorted in my name, it's F***ing official, nothing's stopping me now cu*ts!! Get interviewed by some girl for Radio Merseyside as we checked in, some of the banners on show are F***ing class and funny all at the same time. Some loon has tied a red scarf around the John Lennon statue, a red pork-pie style hat is added!!
Queuing up to get through passport control we see some of the WAGS, then we see Kirkland, Diao and Pellegrino (who both look tall cu*ts up close), Pongolle and some moody gobs***e in a trackie snarling at some of us, a few lads start giving it "who the F**k does he think he is?" Turns out it's Anthony Le Tallec!!
All through Passport Control there are various outbreaks of songs, I've seen since myself on the official DVD singing ring of fire in the airport. It's the clip just after the lad waiting to board says: "No way Jose" I've got glasses on and a copy of The KOP paper slapping it against my other hand!
Finally at around 8am we find out our plane is ready to board, turns out our plane is one of those banned from landing in Germany or Holland for various reasons. So we sit on the plane, waiting and waiting. It appears we've missed our slot, a bit more of a wait, the sky crew hanging around by the door filming scenes get the brunt of our anger: "GET OF OUR F***ing PLANE, GET OF OUR F***ing PLANE, GET OF OUR PLANE, GET OFF OUR F***ing PLANE!"
Finally we get the green light, the plane starts to taxi towards the runway and the songs flow "Liiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvve eeeeeeeerrrrrrrrpppppppp pppooooooooooooooool" "Oh when the reds" and some others, we're all clapping and stamping our feet, the Turkish stewardesses are nearing a breakdown "Noooooooooooooo" hasn't dawned on some of us that we shouldn't be stamping our feet that hard!!
Four hours later we're there, Sabia Gockhen (spelling) airport, YNWA pan pipe style getting played through speakers in passport control and then were out into the Turkish air, we decide to jump on one of the free buses heading to the ground, knowing we've missed most of the shenanigans in Taksim.
The stadium is alcohol free apart from the alcohol-free amstel sh*t they're selling, we find out that some taxi drivers are basically taking fans to get ale, my brother and few leds jump into a taxi to go grab some.
Me and two other lads hang around just by the road which led down to the ground and across we can see the biblical style mass of Red Army making it's way down to the ground. I blag a couple of cans from a lad heading towards the stadium so we sit off for a bit watching Statto being harassed by a load of Reds, while he does a piece to camera, they form a ring around him and begin singing their heads off.
I also see a stage where Pete Wylie is playing Heart as Big as Liverpool, the stage gets invaded and some Turkish loon gets on the mic telling everyone to get off the stage or the stage will collapse and they will all die, everyone laughs and and a load of flags are paraded.
Around an hour to an hour and a half later I see a taxi coming around the corner and heading down, I swear I can see my brother, I'm sure it's him, it is! He's hanging out of the taxi Joker style in the Dark Knight thumping the top of the cab's roof, with a can in the other hand singing his head off. BOSS!!
So the drinking begins, we find a few lads that sit around us and begin a good old sing song, it's starting to get dark, still well over an hour and a half to kick-off, let's sing and drink some more!! A few photies are taken, lads jump in on some the photies, everyone is having a laugh, I end up giving one of the smaller banners with us away to some Turkish lad, I must be merry at this point.
Before entering, we join in a massive YNWA, some lads have jumped on top of the burger vans outside and are lighting flares, the whole scene looks F***ing brilliant. We head around to the gates we have to enter, apparently the turnstiles have broken, so they're just ripping the tickets and letting you enter.
We get in, and see a nice little corprate tent with all kinds of food and drink, we try the sneak effect to try and get in, but were spotted by two security guards who usher us away, us ordinary fans will have to make do with the massive selection of a few bags of crisp and either coke or water.
We get to our seats and immediately begin joining in with the singing. Everyone knows what happens next!
Half-time and I'm kicking F**k out of the seat in front, screaming and muttering something about "pride" my brother is calling Kewell all the shithouses going, everyone's gutted. My brother is looking at me thinking I'm gonna go on about how we're never beaten, I can't find the words, FFS this is AC Milan in the European Cup Final, not some over-hyped premiership sh*te.
I look around again my brother has disappeared, he's now marching up and down the steps with another lad screaming at everyone to start singing, "get behind them, they're a bunch of arl tw*ts, they'll be fu**ed in the second half, F***ing hell even PSV scored three against these geriatric Itie cu*ts."
YNWA kicks off, everyone joins in, although as it dies down, some soft cu*ts decide to give it "where gonna win 4-3" they are given the I'm not impressed stare and are suitably rebuked "save that sh*te for the Crystal Palaces and other non-existant sh*te teams of this world, We're Liverpool, we don't sing that sh*t."
obviously the celebrations are a little muted for the first, it's more a yesssssss, we're back in this, Smicer scores and suddenly the craziness is back. And for the pen, there is that split second where desolation starts to sink in and then forgotten as the atom bomb goes off. F***ing GET INNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN N XABI!!
Extra time and we're all buzzing and laughing, we know we need to go for it, but the lads are looking a bit tired, we're gonna have to defend for our very lives.
Dudek makes THAT double save, although being right on line with it, had Shevchenko not tried to blast it and tried placing it we would of been fu**ed, we're still in it and it's pens. I'm convinced now number five is all ours.
As Shevchenko grabs the ball and starts to walk up to place the ball, a voice a few rows behind pipes up "what happens if he misses"
Within a split second I respond: "WE F***ing WIN!"
"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSS, We've F***ing done it, getttttttt innnnnnn, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, me and my brother are just hugging each other and hugging anyone else around us, what a F***ing night.
All the songs are going off, everyone is ripping their shirts off and swinging it around their heads singing ring of fire, some poor lad in front can't take any more and is just overcome with it all and spewing his ring, the emotion is just too much for this teenage lad as Steven steps up to lift Big Ears. I can't help myself, I just grab his head up and tell him: "Never, ever forget this!"
I'm devoid of any feeling on the coach as we head back to the airport, everyone else is buying kebabs outside before going in the little tent that was set up over the road by the airport. We get some more ale, although out of the three pints that were given to me, I hand two off to some Irish lads as we queue up to get into the smallest airport in Istanbul that has to deal with all the travelling reds.
We get back somewhere between 8.30am and 9am and immediately as we were waiting to leave the plane, people's phones are going off all over the place and everyone is saying the same: "Have you heard what that pr**k Andy Gray said at half-time, I bet he loved that second half the bluenose pr**k."
We eventually get a taxi back to our estate in Huyton, my voice has all but turned into a gravelly whisper, as we head into the shop we get a few looks, everyone knows where we've been, plenty of lucozade and newspapers are bought, get back to ours, have a smoke and spend the rest of the day watching the replays from the night before and getting goose-pimples from reading every account of the previous day/night.
DER DER DER DER DER DER!
« Last Edit: May 25, 2011 10:29:19 pm by HUYTON RED »
Logged