Football is just a leisure activity, but one we all love and one I cannot imagine my life without (though it certainly sometimes ruins our whole weekend). We shape our lives in many ways around the club we support, which for me is Liverpool FC. As I once again look towards a spring with something to play for, I thought now might be a good time to write a love letter to Jürgen Klopp’s Reds—and I’ll start in an unlikely place.
I was initially dead excited when a friend offered me her ticket for Liverpool v Leicester in the Carabao Cup in December 2021. Not because the tie itself was overly exciting, but because it would be my first time in the ground for the League Cup. She couldn’t make it up from London so close to Christmas for the match and knew that I am around and perpetually looking for spares in the holiday period; I was just happy to finally be on her list of people to check with when spares cropped up.
On the day, though, I almost begrudgingly made my way to the ground. Though I had the whole day to build up to the 7.45 pm kickoff, I was in a terrible mood when it came time to book a cab to Anfield. See, I was suffering from the sour aftereffects of my choices the night before, which reached a nadir when I managed to irreparably break my engagement ring (I dropped it and then stepped on it). I was in no mood to be social, let alone to cheer on a much-changed Liverpool side in a seat away from anyone I knew.
But I went, because I’m not at a place in my life where I turn down unexpected spares based on my own bad moods. I went, too, because I had made a commitment to Liverpool Football Club and I meant to follow through on it.
Anfield was great, of course. I had never been as low in the Kop as I was then, which was a treat in its own way, and the older fella next to me was incredibly kind and in much the opposite mood as myself. Unfortunately, the football in front of us made it all a bit harder. Leicester scored not once but twice in the opening 15 minutes, with both goals seeming ridiculously easy against a very youthful back line; you could see Jamie Vardy’s second coming for a heartbreakingly long time before it was in the back of the net. This was certainly not what I wanted a front row seat for when I told my new seat neighbor that I was pleased at the lower spec.