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Childhood LFC memories

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Red Astaire

Member Of 'The Toilets At The Harry Fan Club..
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(from an OOT)

So it's Christmas 1980 and my family are staying at my Aunts and Uncles house somewhere in Liverpool (Simonswood I think). Their house was called 'The Kop' as my Uncle was crazy about the redmen. As far as I remember he had been trying to convert me from being a rugby fan (my Dad used to play a little for England) to an LFC diehard. It took him dressed as Father Christmas and a bribe of 50p to seal the deal. From then on he didn't let up. Every year I got copies of the Liverpool Echo sent to my home in Bucks. Full spread special editions of the reds lifting trophies. Sometimes I got old kits as well which I wore for P.E every week. King Kenny soon became my hero. He was up there with Han Solo as a proper legend only he actually existed!

I was the only person in my school who supported them. Everyone else was either a Spurs or Arsenal fan. I'd bring in the Echo to school and show off like any kid would do - Much to the annoyance of my cockney mates. They just kept winning! What a time! The only two times I got my face rubbed in it was when we lost 2-1 to Arsenal in the Milk cup and of course that Michael Thomas disaster. Really though not much of a price to pay considering what we won. :) It was funny then as it is now how Spurs never won anything!

First game at Anfield came and I was 14. It was in the main stand and the whole thing took my breath away. Especially the walk up the steps for the first time and the view of the Kop. My Uncle said "You're never going to forget this lad" and he was right. A 5-1 mauling of Sheffield Wednesday in the last home game before Hillsborough - Which apart from an intervention from my Aunt I would have been at....

My Uncle bought me an LFC pin that day which I still have. And every time I go back to Anfield I try and pop in to the Albert to remember the time some old scouser my Uncle knew bought me a cheeky half to drink at the back with all the grown ups. Magical.

I was bored so thought I'd share - Tell us yours.
 
ian fucking woan and jeremy dickhead goss . i will never forgive them .
 
Here's a few:
1977 European Cup Final. Allowed to stay up and watch. Going out in the street for a late-night kickabout after we won - all the Dads being outside playing too.
Whenever we were in a final, or close to winning the league, loads of bedroom windows (and even living room windows) would have scarves in and cuttings from the Echo special sections.
Early games - people moving aside so my Dad could get me in front of a barrier. I remember the banter, the friendliness, the kindness to youngsters.
Becoming a passive smoker, as the smell reminded me of the Kop. Being told by a friend that I should just stand in the toilets, because that smelled of the Kop as well.
First game against United - getting separated from my friend as the crowd was so big. Then seeing him going past me in a seething mass of human hatred when United took the lead, words coming out of his mouth I didn't know that he knew. The absolute bedlam when we equalised.
Losing home to Everton, and the shock of having their supporters celebrating in the Kop.
Being asked by a female friend at University whether I hugged my brother.... ermmmm, no!....not ever?....No ..oh wait, yes once, after we equalised against Derby.
 
I remember at 12 y.o. getting the bus to Scottie Rd to buy a pair of Flemings and shitting myself because my mates had wound me up saying all the 'big boys' would hang around outside, beat the shit out of you and nick your nice new kecks !

Does this count ? It's pretty close to Anfield !
 
Crying because of the noise at my first ever game. We sat in lower main stand. Having my old man stuff cotton wool in my ears so I didn't cry because of the noise a month or two later at my second game.
Asking my old man how the players could kick it that far and keep the ball on the pitch.
Getting back to my Gran's in Old Swan and setting up the Subbuteo pitch on the floor of the tiny bedroom I stayed in when we went up to re-enact the goals after we beat Villa 3-0 in '76.
Meeting Steve Highway in a car park outside Highfield Road and him signing my programme.
Queuing outside the Echo offices for what felt like hours to get my free double European Cup winners T-shirt in '78 (still got it)
Buying a fake-silk '9 times Champions' red and white scarf from a hats, caps, scarf or a badge bloke opposite the Arkles in 1976/77 season.
Crying on the long, long walk back to the car somewhere in Wembley after we lost the cup final in '77 to the scum and my old man saying to me 'you can't win every game son' and buying me my first ever glass bottle of Coca-cola and some Mancs stopped and gave us a lift to the car.
Jumping up and landing on the coffee table in the lounge on my stomach when Terry Mac scored against Munchen Gladbach in Rome a couple of days later. Still got the scar.
 
Here's a few:
1977 European Cup Final. Allowed to stay up and watch. Going out in the street for a late-night kickabout after we won - all the Dads being outside playing too.
Whenever we were in a final, or close to winning the league, loads of bedroom windows (and even living room windows) would have scarves in and cuttings from the Echo special sections.
Early games - people moving aside so my Dad could get me in front of a barrier. I remember the banter, the friendliness, the kindness to youngsters.
Becoming a passive smoker, as the smell reminded me of the Kop. Being told by a friend that I should just stand in the toilets, because that smelled of the Kop as well.
First game against United - getting separated from my friend as the crowd was so big. Then seeing him going past me in a seething mass of human hatred when United took the lead, words coming out of his mouth I didn't know that he knew. The absolute bedlam when we equalised.
Losing home to Everton, and the shock of having their supporters celebrating in the Kop.
Being asked by a female friend at University whether I hugged my brother.... ermmmm, no!....not ever?....No ..oh wait, yes once, after we equalised against Derby.


Haha - mine is so similar.

Remember we listened to the 77 final on my Dad's ridiculously large radio.

Going to some games and standing on an milk crate in the Anfield Road stand that my dad brought with us to the ground.

I remember we used to go to all the Ipswich games as our neighbours were from there so we all went together. John Wark playing for them.

"The team": 1 Clemence, 2. Neal, 3. A. Kennedy, 4. Thommo, 5. R. Kennedy, 6. Hansen, 7. The King, 8. Case, 9. Johnson, 10. McDermott, 11. Souness. 12. Supersub.

Going to Wembley a lot.

The Milk Cup Final in 1987 that we lost to the fucking Gooners and Charlie Nicholas was the last game I went to as a "kid" I think.

Happy Memories.
 
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Getting up in the middle of the night to listen to us get beat by Independiente on AM radio.. I think I was about 12/13
 
My first ever memory of LFC is genuinely of the night Arsenal won the title in 1989. We were all watching it as a family in the lounge. I don't remember anything of Liverpool before that match, and nothing at all of the title winning season of 1990, but I know for certain that the feeling of crushing misery at the end I had then is exactly the same as I have now after a big defeat.

I suppose I was just picking up on the emotions of my family but it's funny all the same.
 
I have brilliant childhood memories. The first is watching us upstairs on a b/w telly with us in Hitachi sponsored umbro kit. One of my brothers and I shared a room with a 'This is Anfield' sign above the door which I would religiously jump up and swipe as soon as I could reach it. Right beside my bed on the wall I updated the squad poster every year, and at that time there was a collection of trophies at the feet of the team. Not one trophy, a gaggle of the fuckers. I used to get the kit when my parents could afford it and when they couldn't, I got a shite replica thing by "O'Neills" which was an advertisement of poverty to the other guys in the housing estate, an invitation for sneers, followed by inevitable fights and never wearing the fucking thing again. The fuckers who slagged you couldn't even afford the O'Neills piece of shite mind you. My first kit I really remember being proud as anything about was the bight yellow kit with red pinstripes (Crown Paints?) I remember the Grobbelar wobbly legs routine vividly, and when I became a keeper myself for my school team, I idolised Grobs. Nevertheless, I'd never want a keepers' kit. I always played as Dalglish in kickabouts. I thought we were invincible.
 
The first proper thing I remember as a kid was Liverpool needing 4 goals or something like that to progress in the UEFA cup and getting them, with me running upstairs to tell my mum every time we scored. I think Dean Saunders got most of the goals.

And loving those Candy tops, especially the grey one. I still them both.

kit-5.jpg
 
"The team": 1 Clemence, 2. Neal, 3. A. Kennedy, 4. Thommo, 5. R. Kennedy, 6. Hansen, 7. The King, 8. Case, 9. Johnson, 10. McDermott, 11. Souness. 12. Supersub.
The team changed so little, even over 60 games. You could look through the programme and see the same players all the way down.
 
My earliest game memory. Loved those white shirts, anyone here at that game? You're a legend in my eyes if you were.
 
I actually don't remember my first memory, it's weird. I remember being a kid, and not being that into football... then all of a sudden I remember being a massive Liverpool fan. I don't remember the in between, or when I started to like it.

One of my earliest memories is that gold kit we had, I don't think I was properly into it by then. My next earliest memory was going to see us against Brondby and losing 1-0 at home.
 
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