My Day at the Match – Roma (H), April 24th 2018

 

By Torbjorn Eriksen (TTT Subscriber Tgeriksen).

To give you a broader background of my day at the match, I must begin the report on Saturday in Oslo. Baggies-boys early afternoon and then late night concert with The Waterboys, Mike Scott of course being my second Scottish hero of the 1980s, and providing the soundtrack for my journey to Anfield. (Edit: My pedantic, proof-reading travelmate points out that Alan Hansen was a Scot as well).

I did my regular match day routine of waking up, spending the waiting hours by reading the TTT preview and all the insightful comments, and then head off to my local pub to meet my mates.

On any given LFC matchday I guess there are at least 30 pubs in Oslo crowded with mental Liverpool-fans. In a country of 5 million people, around 40,000 are members of Liverpool Supporters Club Norway – the largest branch outside of England, Ireland included.

Most Norwegians in fact have stronger allegiance to an English club than to their local club. There is actually such a thing as Blyth Spartan FC Norway, with two souls and counting. The reason is that our public (and at that time the only) broadcaster started showing a weekly English game in 1969, and this became the only entertainment for us who grew up with black and white TV in Norway during the 1970s. In the analytical spirit of this forum, I also offer an auxiliary hypothesis: namely the general quality of Norwegian football. We have Riise and Solskjaer, but our proudest and only claim to fame is beating England in 1981. (Provoking the legendary commentator’s rant: “Lord Nelson! Lord Beaverbrook! Sir Winston Churchill! Sir Anthony Eden! Clement Attlee! Henry Cooper! Lady Diana! Maggie Thatcher – can you hear me, Maggie Thatcher! Your boys took one hell of a beating!”)

To underline just how far the passion can go: the unofficial archbishop of the Norwegian branch moved to Anfield Road when he was 18, married and named his first born daughter “TIA”. I’ve also heard about a Norwegian with a dog called “Biscan” (The Norwegian word for nice dog is “bisken”) Then we have a friend of mine who is 47 and has visited Anfield 47 times. He is by no means rich, but not married either.

The word “scouse” probably origins from the Norwegian national dish “lapskaus”, a stew spread by Norwegian sailors in the 19th century. At least, that’s what we Norwegian Kopites tell each other.

Back to Saturday, and as we all remember, the match ended 2-2. Me and 5 pints was a little disappointed, and we posted a little too harsh a comment on Joe Gomez. Luckily Paul T., madchenKliop and Mikhail B. were on hand and set the record straight.

“I saw the crescent, you saw the whole of the moon”.

At the concert the strangest thing happened. In what must have been a first at a Waterboys concert, the crowd did not yell and demand “Red Army Blues”. At the time I took this as a very good omen.

On Monday “I packed my bags, Brushed my cap, Walked out into the world”, and boarded the original SAS. This being a midweek match, the passengers were a good mix of 1/3-baldish Tomkins, 1/3 greyish Eriksens and the last third a blend of both. Then we did what Norwegians who meet abroad do: look at each other, start drinking (Carlsberg, as a matter of principle) and then a little talking when it is time to disembark.

Travelling from Norway, unfortunately we often must endure an hour at Manchester airport. Then again, our ethos is not to spend a single penny in that city. I hit the ATM, and managed to escape Manchester with a negative net spend of 200 bucks.

The transport to Liverpool from the airport is either by train or with a Liverpool-based cab. At the Norwegian LFC forum a lot of people are able to provide a cell number for “Mike”, “Harry” or “Jack”, who in addition to being good drivers and nice company, also all of them without exception happens to be Stevie G’s best friend from school.

I installed myself in an excellent AirBnb in Ropewalks, by far my favourite part of Liverpool, and went out for a couple of pints while waiting for my friend with a later flight. The night out was great fun, but the city centre was surprisingly devoid of fans. Almost as ifthe good people of Liverpool also study, work and have families!

On Tuesday we arrived at Anfield five hours before the game started. As many visitors do, we started with a brief, quiet moment at the Hillsborough Memorial. The 96 may not have sisters, fathers or cousins in Norway, but we are still family.

Which leads me to a reflection on foreign fans going to the matches, and I guess a worry expressed to me in the matchgoing thread by Allen Baynes in asking me to sing YNWA instead of pulling out the IPhone. I really know what you mean. All the honest Norwegian fans I know are acutely aware of the two main downsides of Liverpool FC being a global community: inflated ticket prices and diluted atmosphere. Not much we can do about prices except support expansion and a fair price policy. But we really have to do our utmost to contribute to the ceremony “when in Rome”. Speaking of that city, I see our relationship a bit like the relationship between Rome and the wider Catholic Church. We foreigners respect the scousers as primus inter pares and lucky inhabitants of the holy city, but you should acknowledge back and cherish that Liverpool FC has universal appeal. After all, you don’t want to be Blyth Spartan.

After paying our respect at the memorial, we sought shelter from the rain at the club’s founding site, The Sandon. A few pints and then off to receive our heroes at the intersection of Anfield Road and Arkles Road. For fully 90 minutes thousands of fans song our hearts out in pouring rain and dense red smoke. Bring on your Internazionale, The Fields of Anfield Road, Allez Allez Allez and even a few rounds of the Luis Garcia song for good measure.

I guess very few of us saw the coaches arriving, but it probably happened since suddenly the crowd started moving towards the stadium. You all saw the game, so I don’t need to give you my analysis. I had been to Anfield three times before, but never on a European night. The sight of the banners, the singing, a truly electric atmosphere. l believe that the whole stadium were standing for 90 minutes.

“I have heard the big music, and I’ll never be the same”

5-2. What a match, what a result. But no matter how well we do, there are always doubters, sceptics, and even still some FSGOuts. Mike Scott described this bunch aptly as early as 1986:

“What show of soul are we gonna get from you?

It could be deliverance, history

Under these skies so blue?

And if I know you you’ll bang the drum

Like monkeys do”

The rest of us are able to recognise what is happening with our club under FSG. As has been pointed out in Tomkins Times time and time again, we are improving on every metric possible: the vastly improved first XI, a world-class manager, the stadium expansion, sound finances and promising development at the academy. And now marching on to Rome with a three goal lead in the luggage! Amazing times to be a part of Liverpool Football Club.

We got an early promise of what could be in store during the 2013-14 title run. But I have a feeling building inside that something more profound and enduring is about to happen.

“That was the river

This is the sea”

Source: tomkinstimes.com