Read the posts in this thread, possibly it will cause you to post your personal philosophy and history as a fellow Red!
Read the posts in this thread, possibly it will cause you to post your personal philosophy and history as a fellow Red!
What is your story?
Come on, give us your story!
Have read and give us your story, everyone who loves Liverpool FC will read it, hopefully those that read your story will feel emboldend to write theirs too!
You may actually live in Anfield itself, you may be reading this in Japan, Hong Kong or Singapore, or even the States!
What is your Philosophy in following the tricky Reds?
Back in the 60’s supporting the reds was the essence of my very young life. Before the confusion that came with puberty and prior to my introduction to the willing temptations of girls, music, fags and beer, my life was simple. Eat, school, Liverpool FC, telly, radio, Liverpool FC, mass, sleep, Liverpool FC. I had scrapbooks full of scruffy newspaper cuttings and photos of the mighty reds. Listening to my sister’s tranny I sang the kop’s words to songs like Manfred Mann’s ‘Mighty Quinn/Emlyn’. I laughed at the memory of Gary Sprake’s own goal scored in front of me at the Anfield Road End every time I heard Des O’Connor’s ‘Careless Hands’. My bedroom walls were covered in icons of those that fed my pleasure and my excitement as a young boy. Early heroes such as Ian St John, Roger Hunt, Gerry Byrne, Chris Lawler, Peter Thompson, Big Ron, Cally, Thommo, The Flying Pig were soon to be joined by Steve Heighway, Brian Hall, Ray Clemence, Tony Hately, Crazy Horse and others. But the one with pride of place in my collection was he who just seemed to go on forever and was the hardest, most committed and toughest of the lot – Tommy Smith.
My weekends were devoted to the reds. When the lads were at home, Saturdays were for playing footy in the morning, having dinner and afterwards walking to the ground with my mate Kev. We’d get there early so that we could get a good spec in the boys pen. We felt real grown up when we left the pen and joined the big boys in the Kop or the Paddock or the Annie Rd end. Sundays were for lying in, big dinner with the family round the kitchen table, reading the match reports and cutting and pasting (in the old sense) to add to the scrapbooks and the bedroom walls.
School holidays were devoted to the reds too. Melwood was less like a fortress then and more like Clubmoor Rec without the dog muck. Us kids were allowed in to watch our heroes train. To get close, to catch an eye, to get an autograph was all we asked. I guess we all hoped that some magic dust would rub off the players on to us so that we might become one of them one day. These were truly fantastic times. To be that close, to dream that much ……wow! And then the day came. A misty, murky, damp February half term morning found me at Melwood with my dog-eared red autograph book. I had no mates with me that day for reasons long forgotten so I felt a bit shy and a little self-conscious. I wasn’t a typical budding young footballer, being a bit ‘tubby’ and small – but I could dream with the best of them. I positioned myself as close as I could to the four sided, wooden panelled ‘sweat box’ – an evil training aid thought up by Bill Shankly and designed to knacker the fittest of players within a matter of minutes. I watched as the players ran out of the changing rooms past me and the other kids present and off into the distance where they were put through their paces by Ronnie Moran and Joe Fagan. I watched intently as the ranks of players broke into groups to follow individual routines. Then I saw a solitary figure coming towards us and I leapt for joy for it was he – the great Tommy Smith. Tommy had been out injured for a few weeks so I assumed his light training was done for the day and he was coming back to get changed. But no – from behind us came the unmistakeable voice of Bob Paisley who shouted “Get your tracksuit off Tom, you’re in the box”. Tommy’s response was less than charitable to Bob Paisley’s family upbringing, but nonetheless he stopped just by where we were standing and peeled off his red tracksuit. It was at that point that I woke up, having been in trance watching all this unfold. I realised that Tommy was looking for someone to hold his tracksuit whilst he went to hell and back. The lads around me were clamouring, begging to be allowed to touch the untouchable. I was being pushed and shoved in the mêlée but stayed silent, still shy and even more self conscious than before. In the confusion I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and there he was standing before me - as big as a tank, as hard as iron but as gentle as a lamb. “ Can you take this back to the changing rooms for me, son” was all he said as I looked into his craggy but kind face, not believing this was happening to me. “ Y-y-y-y-yes Tommy” was all I could bring myself to say.
“ Don’t worry, there’ll be someone in there who’ll show you where to put them”. Tommy’s face and voice had been replaced by Bob Paisley’s as Tommy walked reluctantly towards the sweat-box.
To cries of incredulity and murmurs of “Fat get” I held Tommy Smith’s tracksuit in outstretched arms and walked slowly but jelly legged towards the changing rooms. When I reached what was really just a big wooden hut, I walked slowly up the steps and through the open door. Once inside I stopped to get my bearings and could see clothes and kit everywhere. Clothes on pegs, leather footballs waiting to be pumped up, training bibs, corner flags, cones, stakes and assorted footy equipment made this into an Aladdin’s cave of Liverpool FC jewels. Standing there I was in a trance induced by the smell of liniment when I was brought to my senses by an angry sounding, gruff Scottish voice. “ What you doing in heeerrrre, son?” I looked in the direction of the voice and saw it belonged to a smallish, wisp-like body standing in the doorway to another room at the back of the changing rooms. “ T-T-T-Tommy Smith asked me to bring these in.” I stuttered. “Did he now?” said the voice. “Weeeeellllll, I’d betterrr show you where to poot them then”. With that the voice and the body was at my side, gently guiding me to a peg and bench at the back of the room. “Poot it there, son and thanks veeerrrry much”. I didn’t say another word. I was dumbstruck and awestruck. I just looked and smiled a weak smile back at the body and voice that belonged to Bill Shankly.
When I walked out of that changing room I was 6 feet tall, 10 stone and solid muscle. I walked back into the crowd of no marks, smiled at the scowling faces and glowed for the rest of the session. True to form, I got no autographs – I didn’t need to. Tommy Smith was on his knees after his time in the box and wouldn’t have recognised his granny through the tears in his eyes, let alone the kid whose self- esteem had gone through the roof thanks to his kindness. I’ve never met him since that day but whenever I saw him play, or on telly I would announce him as “My mate Tommy” – much to my mate Kev’s never ending annoyance.
Philosophy? – Enjoy every minute of your experience in supporting the reds and wait for that special moment to happen, as it surely will.
I enjoyed every word of that post mate,posts like that make the 50 quid i spend on this place well worth it.
Oh and my special moment came last year when i got to attend an evening with Ian Rush and got to speak to and shake the great mans hand after his talk.
I did'nt even know the event was on i just happened to walk past a bar in the city and saw it advertised as being on that evening right there and then.
Last edited by Dave00; 16-1-09 at 16:40. Reason: typo
Thanks for the kind words Dave00. Glad you enjoyed the read and great
to hear of what must have been a very special moment for you.
The thing that makes these moments special is that they don't come around that often and when they do they are almost always unexpected - like you meeting Ian Rush, like 'my mate Tommy', like Istanbul and like others that will happen to followers of the reds in the future. But what comes around most is that being a Liverpool supporter is great - full of surprises, often frustrating, occasionally celebratory, at times full of joy, sometimes full of tears and in part tedious....but great!
Give my regards to your mate Ian!
What a fantastic read! Outstanding, theleinster, one of the most evocative posts I have read in a long time in remembering the life and times of this great club of ours! Thank you for taking the time to write such an enjoyable read, top notch, mate!
[QUOTE=theleinster;1514135] But what comes around most is that being a Liverpool supporter is great - full of surprises, often frustrating, occasionally celebratory, at times full of joy, sometimes full of tears and in part tedious....but great!
The above just puts the icing on the cake [so to speak ] of your excellent post.
My only claim to fame is that I used to pay Phil Thompson his wages every month [he was still in the reserve team then] when I worked in the T.S.B. in Kirkby.The nice thing about it was that Thomo really loved and still does luv Liverpool F.C. as much as anyone.
Nail on the head, Nacnud!
Evening Socs -hope you are well.Good weekend to all.
Roll on Monday[for a change].
Doing fine, mate.
To everyone, what is your philosophy as one of many Reds?
Tell us your personal story in supporting the tricky Reds...
Thanks for your encouragement and kind words Socratease and NACNUD. It really was a pleasure.
You are welcome, theleinster, I thoroughly recommend your post as one worth reading, mate.
Giz a story!
Read the posts in this thread, possibly it will cause you to post your own personal philosophy and history as a fellow Red!
Giz a story!
What is your experience?
How did it start for you?
Giz a story!
on my ma and da's honeymoon they went to portugal and i think liverpool had been playing there (benfica?) and they met the players in a bar one night and were really impressed by how genuine they were
ever since my family have followed lfc
incidently my auntie's cousin is bobby mimms the goalkeeper
Is Bobby still at Blackburn, Liverdinner?
Hi there Socratease, and everyone else. Awesome thread, I found it earlier today when I was having a look through different threads,
Firstly, I was born and bred in a small town in the far north of the North Island of New Zealand. I still live here in Auckland, and am planning my first trip to England and hopefully Anfield in the next year or so! (Can't wait for that!)
I registered with LFC.tv in Jan 2008, but did'nt join est and start posting until the PSV match last Sept.
You may have seen my story a few months back in a thread titled "Where did it all begin for you?"
Anyway, I was born into a Rugby mad country (it still is, but football is slowly taking a stronger hold, but it will never rule here like it does around the world), and my earlier youth was spent playing rugby. My father took me to the local club to start playing when I was 5 years old.
In my early youth I was sports mad, so to me it did'nt matter what I played, as long is it was outdoors and it was sport. Rugby was number one, but I played cricket and tennis, even tried hockey, did athletics, swimming - you name it we did it. And we used to kick a soccer ball around the netball courts at lunchtime at school when the fields were too wet to play rugby on.
I used to watch as much sport as I could on TV, which was limited in those days, and one of my earlier recollections was an FA cup replay of the '71 cup final between LFC and the Arse. Regarding soccer, my best mate and I sort of favoured Leeds Utd. in those days, cos we used to hear a lot about them back then, plus my Grandmother came from Leeds!
As we sat down to watch the Cup replay, we decided to pick a team (we did'nt know the score) and I chose Liverpool! The main reason at the time was because I affiliated them with the BEATLES! as their music was played in our house quite a bit, so I grew up with them. (My mum was a big fan!)
The Cup final result went against me that day, but that was my first real insight into English football, and in particular LFC. So I started taking an interest in the game, and found a magazine back then called Goal! I didn't really get into it that following season, but started buying the magazine on a regular basis in early 1973, and basically followed Liverpool's League and UEFA Cup double from there. Please note, we used to receive that magazine 3 months! after it was first published in England! cos it was shipped over here by sea, not air freight!
Sunderlands famous Cup victory over Leeds was the first Cup Final we saw live in NZ and was a momentuous occasion all round. From there my passion for football was fully ignited and I started to look to switching codes from Ruby, much to my fathers chagrin!
It was August that year before I knew of Liverpool's double, and by then I was fully entrenched. Remembering that '71 cup final, the Beatles etc. and a certain Kevin Keegan who started a regular column in the new Shoot/Goal! magazine - I was firmly becoming a REDS fan.
(This accounts for my name LFCsince73)
My first real highlight was the '74 Cup Final, which was live and I remember watching it with my mum, and her comment about wouldn't it be great if we had colour TV cos of the fact that Liverpool were in all red!
I have lived and died with all you die hard fans around the world for these last 35 odd years, and vividly remember all the ups and downs (too many through the 90's) and all the great occasions.
'77 saw my first tears when we lost the Cup Final to the Scum, but was replaced with joy four days later when we took our First European Cup!
I remember being allowed to stay home from school to watch it that Thursday morning all those years ago (not to mention repeating that a year later! )
I cherished all the success we had throughout the 80's with '86 being massive for me, and the '88 loss to the Wombles and Micheal Thomas' goal being among my biggest dissappointments. Although not a scouser, I shared your grief at Heysel and Hillsborough as we saw it all on TV, and was quite horrified by what we saw. Me and my brother (he became a red too) drink a toast to the Hillsborough 96 every year.
The 90's were very hard to take over here, esp. with seemingly endless Scum supporters crawling out of the woodwork, and Houlliers reign had some shining moments, but since Rafa took over belief has started to crawl back in, and along with all you true fans over there in Liverpool and around England, (not to forget the rest of the world) I am a firm believer that number 19 is on its way to us! TBH, even in the darker times, I never gave up hope of pulling off a miracle until it was mathematically impossible, so for me the current season is FAR from over. (Gotta admit was not in a good mood at half time for Istanbul - but thats another story. )
Hope this hasn't been too long and boring, but you asked for it! Anyway - COME ON YOU REDS v BORO!!!
Last edited by LFCsince73; 10-3-11 at 10:15.
Superb, LFCsince73! An absolutely wonderful read from down under in New Zealand, mate! Thank you for taking the time to write your story, top notch, LFCsince73!
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