...we stuck four on Barcelona at Anfield to create the second greatest miracle in LFC (and arguably Champions League) history.
Any thoughts, comments, memories?
Any thoughts, comments, memories?
Four years ago today
- Thread starter Judge Jules
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My biggest football regret, otber than turning down Istanbul tickets to do a shitty A level psychology exam, was putting myself into work this night and then not finding cover because I believed the tie to be as a good as over. As their official Twitter arrogantly said, they were bound to score at least one right? And I had to agree.
On the night itself, upon seeing the quick fire double from Gini Wijnaldum, I automatically thought the BBC app was having a breakdown.
I still watch the highlights twice a year to attone and try and convince myself it actually happened.
On the night itself, upon seeing the quick fire double from Gini Wijnaldum, I automatically thought the BBC app was having a breakdown.
I still watch the highlights twice a year to attone and try and convince myself it actually happened.
I also enjoy watching the highlights, as well as this video here:
I'm now reminded of the final, my son was watching it with me and he was pretty clueless about what was happening. When they showed the reply of the penalty he shouted to me "Daddy! They got another!". In fairness to the wee shit he was pretty young at the time.
I'm now reminded of the final, my son was watching it with me and he was pretty clueless about what was happening. When they showed the reply of the penalty he shouted to me "Daddy! They got another!". In fairness to the wee shit he was pretty young at the time.
I was so loud that night, which was really inappropriate as it was either Holocaust Memorial day or Memorial day (don't remember anymore), that my neighbor's daughter went to her dad, "I think Wizzy is being murdered," and he was like, "No, he's just watching Liverpool".
I remember trying to persuade you on here that, though it was highly unlikely, we still had a chance. Truth is I was trying to persuade myself as much as anyone. 😀
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ik-DhHJM8eo
Truthfully.
I though we had no chance, so stayed in bed (would have a 5am kick off).
I was in an all-day meeting and didn't try to slip it bc of the scoreline. Suddenly my phone is going off with notifications and I check the score and just completely mentally blank the rest of the meeting until I can go have a pint somewhere and catch up on what id missed.
Just watched this - again 😀 - and I reckon one of the Barcelona players shown trudging away at the 6'00" mark after big Divock's winner is none other than Arthur.
My memory is not even really thinking about the game other than 'we're getting beat tonight', and also how strange it was being offered loads of spare tickets on the day of a CL semi final, which I could also easily have been talked out of going to.
Walked up breck road with my mates laughing that salah and frim were injured, but my friend's cousin was over from the states, had got one of these spares I'd been offered, and was waiting with beers outside the Salisbury. He a kind of hard wired enthusiasm that comes with being a handsome millionaire yank and he had just left his wife at a lake house in Switzerland while he popped to the match for a flying visit - and this mad bastard was the first dude who said he thought we'd do it, and meant it. Like he wouldn't have spent a grand on flights and bailed on his vacation the minute he'd heard there was a spare if he wasnt certain we'd win, and he was that persuasive I started to think yeah... If we get an early goal you never know, and walked into the ground oddly optimistic after about an hour of stunt drinking pints and shots with the crazy bastard.
The match was nuts, best night at anfield ever, but yall know that bit. We ended up back in my local after the game, which locked us in until the early hours. The next day one of my dogs needed an op and I had the worst hangover I can recall. My poor Tank had a problem with her tail which was in turn giving her an actual pain in the arse, and the vet had said she needed a small op and it would be about 150 quid, but when I went to pick her up, I could barely see, the hangover was that bad it seemed like all the lights were flickering like some weird horror movie, and everything was swaying, and the nurse said it had been a bit more complicated and it was 370 quid, so I was like why? She wandered off for a minute while I concentrated on not falling over, and when she reappeared stuck this petri dish right in my face, full of blood and jiblets and a length of severed tail, and I didn't know whether to vomit, shit twice, or die. Anyway it worked, I paid very quickly and left immediately, got a curer, watching reruns of corner taken quickly on my phone over and over.
Yeah sorry it wasn't about the match but you asked for my memories.
Walked up breck road with my mates laughing that salah and frim were injured, but my friend's cousin was over from the states, had got one of these spares I'd been offered, and was waiting with beers outside the Salisbury. He a kind of hard wired enthusiasm that comes with being a handsome millionaire yank and he had just left his wife at a lake house in Switzerland while he popped to the match for a flying visit - and this mad bastard was the first dude who said he thought we'd do it, and meant it. Like he wouldn't have spent a grand on flights and bailed on his vacation the minute he'd heard there was a spare if he wasnt certain we'd win, and he was that persuasive I started to think yeah... If we get an early goal you never know, and walked into the ground oddly optimistic after about an hour of stunt drinking pints and shots with the crazy bastard.
The match was nuts, best night at anfield ever, but yall know that bit. We ended up back in my local after the game, which locked us in until the early hours. The next day one of my dogs needed an op and I had the worst hangover I can recall. My poor Tank had a problem with her tail which was in turn giving her an actual pain in the arse, and the vet had said she needed a small op and it would be about 150 quid, but when I went to pick her up, I could barely see, the hangover was that bad it seemed like all the lights were flickering like some weird horror movie, and everything was swaying, and the nurse said it had been a bit more complicated and it was 370 quid, so I was like why? She wandered off for a minute while I concentrated on not falling over, and when she reappeared stuck this petri dish right in my face, full of blood and jiblets and a length of severed tail, and I didn't know whether to vomit, shit twice, or die. Anyway it worked, I paid very quickly and left immediately, got a curer, watching reruns of corner taken quickly on my phone over and over.
Yeah sorry it wasn't about the match but you asked for my memories.
The best thing was it was a dead rubber, who on Earth thought we were going to do it? The Trent Origi goal is possibly our best ever. Debatable because there's been so many but, even so.
Hands down our biggest win for me.
We did it without two of our best players too.
Bananas.
Games like this make getting up at stupid o’clock week in week out to watch us from Australia worth it.
We did it without two of our best players too.
Bananas.
Games like this make getting up at stupid o’clock week in week out to watch us from Australia worth it.
I remember being at Dublin airport lounge - eating my first ever bag of Southern Tayto - watching this game on my phone.
Every time we scored I was going mental and people around me were getting uncomfortable, as if to say, “I hope this mad cunt isn’t going to be on my flight.”
Suffice it to say, that was one of the best stopovers I’ve ever had anywhere in the world.
Only regret is that there wasn’t any Northern Tayto to do a taste comparison.
Every time we scored I was going mental and people around me were getting uncomfortable, as if to say, “I hope this mad cunt isn’t going to be on my flight.”
Suffice it to say, that was one of the best stopovers I’ve ever had anywhere in the world.
Only regret is that there wasn’t any Northern Tayto to do a taste comparison.
You could have just ripped up your beer mat and put salt on it to recreate the northern tayto experience
I was having a couple of pints in my village local beforehand. It was time to head up for the game, and I was in the company of a guy who has a deep dislike of Liverpool. He offered to buy me a pint saying what's the point, you're out, and I declined, repeating the spiel I had been trotting out to anyone who'd listen that evening, if we score the first, then Anfield is a magic place on European nights and we could do it.
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