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This trip was a long time in the making, 24 years to be precise. I've been supporting Liverpool since 1977 but could never go to Anfield because of all the myriad issues of growing up Indian, living down in the southern suburbs etc. etc. Then of course when I was old enough to contemplate doing it I moved over to New York. Of course i've had my dalliance with Newcastle and truly like the homey feel of the city and they have a nice team, but its always been Liverpool for me.

Originally the idea germinated when we were over Newcastle for Tommy's bachelor party, with the 4 Liverpool fans talking about making the Anfield pilgrimage. We had a couple of scousers playing on the Central Park Rangers Summer team, so I asked Nat some questions, and before you knew it I had an email from Daragh Kennedy, the president of the Liverpool New York Supporters Club. For $800 we could get the whole package with game tickets to Leeds. Sounded good to me, but unfortunately Tommy couldn't make it and neither could Walby. Simon was in, at least until 3 days before when he had to bail for domestic reasons. This left me going to Liverpool with 9 people that I'd never met before, first having sent a check for $800 to someone I'd never met.

Of course I didn't have any worries and knew it would be a great trip. We booked before 9/11 so were a little concerned about how the travel arrangements were going to be but it turned out to be very easy. After being encouraged by my boss to leave early I got to the British Airways terminal by 3pm for the 6:30 flight. Rob showed up around 4:15, but Daragh and Julio were delayed and didn't get in until 5:30. My usual travel anxiety disappeared as we managed to get to the gate with a minimum of hassle, unlike Julio who didn't realize that as an Ecudorean citizen he needed a visa. And then there were 3. I managed to get a whole aisle to myself on the plane, although it was great it would have been perfect if we had 5 seats across instead of 4, since I was about 6-12 inches away from being able to totally lie down.

The cab ride to Liverpool was smooth apart from a little difficulty finding the hotel. Surprisingly there was a paucity of hotels which led us to have to book this one. In addition to being out in the 'burbs it was probably as spartan a hotel as I've ever seen. I guess the lack of locks on the bathrooms say it all, along with the 6 inch space they call a bathroom sink. Suffice to say I won't be back there any time soon (part of the feathers group of hotels if you're interested). A quick stop to dump our luggage and we were off to do an interview at Radio Merseyside. Of course, hobnobbing with the media is par for the course for me after the Newcastle maelstrom, but in this case Daragh and Rob were really the ones holding the fort while I relaxed and played a bit part (once you've gone BBC Radio 5, you can never go back). We managed a prominent spot on their website as well as a nice 10 minute interview.

Interview over and it was off to Anfield. I was surprised by my first view of it because it really was in the center of the city, crammed in by roads with a pub opposite. I've seen stadiums similarly located such as Madison Square Garden, but this location seemed to be significantly more intimate. The gates were there, Bill Shankley's statue was there and so was the Club Shop. Eventually before we could grab a pint the rest of the crew showed up. Jeff and I had Phil Woodisse in common and he had almost made the journey up to Newcastle for the aborted Liverpool vs Newcastle game in 2000. We first decided to check out the museum. The amount of memorabilia in there was amazing, going all the way back to the Club's founding in 1892. Of greater astonishment to me was that all 5 trophies won from the last year were available for pictures and for us to touch.

Time for lunch. I didn't quite catch the names of the two gentleman who were escorting us around and giving us the tour, until upstairs in one of the banquet rooms I saw them lining up next to their pictures! It was none other than Bryan Hall (2 league winning medals) and Ian Callaghan (5 league winning medals, Club record holder for number of league appearances at 640, World Cup winner with England in '66). Lunch was a pleasure, full of anecdotes and stories about playing for Liverpool in the old days as well as about Bill Shankly. Half way through lunch who should come in but one of the newer old boys, Alan Kennedy! Now this was a living legend to me as I still remember him slotting home the penalty against Roma in Roma to win us the '84 European Cup Final. Not only did he come to chat with us but he brought several of his medals to show us as well as the impressive medal gained from the 2-0 win at the Bernebau against Brazil (famous for THAT goal - no, not Mark Hateley, John Barnes!). I enjoyed how honestly he answered questions and how real he was, as well as the fact that I got autographs and pictures from all 3 of these legends!

After lunch we got the stadium tour . The linked article pretty much says it all, but there's few things as magical as walking down the tunnel tapping the 'This is Anfield' sign. The piped in crowd noise was a surprising and spine-tingling addition as we ran out into the stadium (not the field of course, as we were repeatedly admonished not to). The pictures below give some sense as to the scale, but they can't substitute being there. As we got to the Kop Darragh showed us our seats, which to our astonishment were not only in the Kop but in the first few rows!

Back to the hotel for a nap, then out to dinner with our benefactor Mike who had helped us find our current accomodations. Dinner at a local establishment was followed by a couple of pints upstairs we met some of the friendly locals. Apart from being Everton fans they were nice chaps, but not only did the pub seemed to be predominantly male it also closed at 11pm, and unfortunately since we were in the suburbs there was no other place open around us. I was tempted to join the boys for a few in town, but nobody else was going and I didn't feel comfortable enough to go with a bunch of fellas I didn't know, get sloshed, get back to the hotel all the while having to get up early for the game on saturday.

Game day and another chance at one of those glorious English cholesterol feasts otherwise known as breakfast. All of us were kitted out in our Reds, although I decided to change up by wearing my 1977 European Cup kit instead of my Michael Owen kit since he wasn't going to be playing. Soaking up the atmosphere outside Anfield was terrific, although there was little chance of a pint at the 'Park' or the 'Albert' since they weren't serving until 11am (silly law). To my surprise they were serving beer in the stadium, so I had a quick one before the game. Although previously the facilities for Anfield had been decent (and it pains me to say this but not even close to those at St. James Park) the downstairs area below the Kop was terrific. There was no problem getting a beer and had I been hungry a bite to eat. Coming out to the Kop we found our seats in the fifth row right in front of the corner flag. We got the chance to wander over right to the fence to check out the warmups. Unlike most U.S. facilities we were right on top of the players, with the goalies training perhaps 5 feet away from the fence and the squad training about 30 feet away from us.

Back in the seats and Rob actually made out an announcement regarding our visit, which was greeted with hearty applause. They played a couple of songs, then started with 'You'll Never Walk Alone'. Singing it along with the crowd made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and as we finished it up out ran the players - as great an entrance as you could have in all of sport. In a surprise to me they had their own version of Roll Call, something that I'd seen started up by the Bleacher Creatures in Yankee Stadium a couple of years ago. The difference was that at Yankee stadium every player gets his name yelled until acknowledging the Bleachers, whereas at Anfield every player has his own song, after which he acknowledges the Kop. Of course, having seen it at the Kop I'm starting to think this is an old tradition of Liverpool usurped by the Yankees, but since I love both teams I'm not going to argue.

The game started off a little ragged for Liverpool. One of the downsides about being so close at the Kop is that because of the slope its nigh impossible to make out any sense of perspective about action going on at the other end. So while I was screaming 'Shoot', the players were probably 40 yards away from goal. Leeds looked very strong, and it was also apparent that they had been well schooled in the book of dirty tricks - one of their players went down, but instead of kicking the ball out to touch they tried to play on against the spirit of the game. I'm all for gamesmanship but there is a line to be drawn, and that was a little churlish. Watching their skill and fast break ability gave me a sense of foreboding which came true off of a corner when Harry Kewell was the beneficiary of a couple of fortunate defections as Leeds took the lead, which they kept into the half.

One of the things that jumped up at me watching the game live (apart from th atmosphere of course) was the ability and comfort level of the players on the ball. While watching on TV there is frequently a sense of 'Please - I could do that'. However, watching the players casually chest down passes from 40 yards away right to their feet, watching intricate quick passing patterns with defenders right on top of them really was eye-opening. I really feel I have more of an appreciation for the players now.

Second half, and how more traditional could it be than Liverpool attacking the Kop end? Heskey had been substituted by Litmanen, to the relief of many. I like Heskey but he's an infuriating player, dominating in the air with a couple of quick moves, but then prone to cough up the ball. Litmanen immediately put his stamp on the precedings with terrific skill and great balls to teammates. Fowler was continuing to concern me as I recognized in him the all too familiar signs of lost confidence - passing the ball around in the penalty box instead of being selfish, snatching at clear chances when the extra half second would let the opportunity present itself. The day was starting to turn ominous, especially with the crowd rippling with the news of a Houllier Heart attack. Eventually though, the relentless pressure Liverpool had been putting on was rewarded. Robbie Fowler turned on one of his innumerable chances and chipped Nigel Martyn. The ball tantalizingly hit the crossbar, but out of nowhere Murphy showed up to finally produce something tangible on the day, a 1-1 draw . As the crowd began to filter out we managed to get our NY Supporters Club banner out and get our picture taken. Daragh had earlier made friends with the head steward Jimmy C, who treated us well as all the other scousers had. In fact he managed to sneak us on the pitch so that we could get our pictures taken with the banner on the hallowed ground.

Off for a couple of pints at 'The Albert'. Naturally it was as crowded as anything but we managed to squirm our way in. The open atmosphere continued as people came up to us and started chatting. After a couple of pints though we heard some of the crew were by the parking lot waiting for autographs of the players. We went out to see what the fuss was about, and I actually found the whole ritual quite compelling. There was a section near the far gate which was cordoned off. The stadium was on one side of the square, adjacent to the fence/gate. The other two sides of the square were cordoned off for the supporters. A steward would come from inside the stadium, go up to one of the cars, drive it up to the stadium door and one of the players would exit (all dressed smartly in suits - none of this tracksuit slacker crap). As the player came out people would scream their names and some of them would come over to sign autographs. Of course if you weren't there quickly you were in the second or third row, which may has well have meant you were on Mars for all the chance of an autograph you were going to get. It was also interesting watching the locals (mostly kids) who knew which car belonged to which player. Most were unremarkable, although Robbie Fowler did embarass himself driving a Beatle - I don't care how snazzy the new ones look, a beatle is a beatle. Also Stephan Henchoz' wife was quite a looker and almost worth signing autographs herself. My patience petered out after about 10 minutes so we wandered over to get a bite to eat at the local chippy.

Chips with gravy sound better than they actually were, perhaps because I was looking for traditional fries, not those from a chinese chippy. Anyway, Jeff and I wandered past the guy giving some kind of drunken performance outside of the Park to go in for a couple of pints. We found Jimmy C and his trusty band of stewards ripping it up with all manner of delightfully bawdy songs - clearly the atmosphere was far more boisterous here, with the exclamation point being a stripper showing up and performing in the middle of the bar for somebody's birthday. Unfortunately we had obligations to go and support the 4pm auction at the Albert of donated Liverpool memorabilia for the NY firefighters, so off we went to decidedly more spacious Albert.

More people were met and the auction was a rousing success. I myself went in with Chris and Daragh on purchasing a current squad signed Kit for 135 quid, and bought myself a signed Michael Owen book for a measely 20 quid. It looked like our plans to play football that evening were over, so I managed to finally make it upstairs for a shower before getting ready for the nights festivities. Finding a place open for dinner at 9:30 on a saturday was surprisingly difficult, so rather than spend all night doing it we went back to the same place we were at the previous night. As dinner was progressing I started falling out, from the long day, trip and beers. I was actually ready to throw in the towel on the night, but fortunately had a couple of aggressive souls ready to take on the town.

Matthew street, or downtown Liverpool was just filled with people out on the town. Almost every bar had a line outside and the volume of people was probably more impressive than what we saw at Newcastle. We went downstairs into a club called the Cavern and were rewarded by the usual entertainment value provided by going into a bar or club in Britain. Clearly most people there couldn't spell 'gym' if you spotted them the 'g' and the 'm', let alone going anywhere near a workout machine. The concept of shame hasn't become widespread, and neither has dancing ability. This provided a good mockery festival but it was soon time to move on. It was after midnight and some members of the party were ready to go back given the early hour of our departure but we did make it to one more club, where I was able to talk our way in despite the dress code. Apparently they were a little lax with the age code too as we must have seen several 16 year olds wandering around the place. I made the cardinal mistake of having a Red Bull and Vodka which of course came back to haunt me all night.

Back at the hotel there was a wedding reception going on, but there really weren't a lot of people around (or at least people we wanted to spend any substantial time with). One more drink for the road, a sleepless night (damn you Red Bull!) and it was time to depart for the airport. The security and checking in was as easy as it had been coming out, and I was also able to capture another aisle row to help me stretch out for the journey back. As a sign of the new times, we actually arrived early to JFK which is something i've never experienced. In fact, we arrived just after noon and I was back in my apartment by 2pm, which is not bad considering immigration, a drive acrosse Queens and a bus from LaGuardia.

(1) This was taken in the middle of our stadium tour. It was interesting when we unfurled it because not only did our group have pictures taken but other members of the tour started taking pictures of us with the NY banner!

(2) The money shot. Daragh not only managed to get us seats in the Kop (THE stand to be in at Liverpool for those of you who don't know) but he got us seats in the first few rows. We were in groups of 5 scattered around, so this picture is taken from Daragh's viewpoint in the fifth row directly behind the goal. Yes he used a zoom, but regardless he didn't have to zoom far because we were that close to the action. This picture was taken just after Danny Murphy's equalizer.