My First Final:
Part 1
It was Liverpool V Birmingham, Worthington Cup Final 2000/2001 season, the season we did the treble. I was 9 years old. It'd been a hot sunny day in Liverpool, I was in year 4. I'd been to school that day, I stayed afterwords for football training. And I got home, I was sweating, we'd been playing on the field. My older Sister was in, I asked where my Mum and Dad were, she said my Mum had gone to pick my Dad up from work and that they'd be back soon. So I immediately dropped by school bag, flung my horrendous horrific Rockport school shoes off my feet (Honestly, they were fucking awful, ran upstairs, undone a few buttons of my top then pulled it off over my head and quick as I could put my Liverpool Kit on and my trainers on and eventfully ran down the stairs, whooshed out the door in a flash and ran over to my mates who playing heads and volleys against Mrs.Davidson's privets.
I was playing, having fun, doing what any normal 9 year old did round the streets of Liverpool, playing football. I then seen the car coming down the road, my Mum and Dad had parked up the path and my Dad shouted me in "Deano, come here a sec mate, got something for you"
I ran swiftly thinking "Oh he's probably got me some chocolate or something". I got in panting, wondering what I was about to be given. My Dad said "I've got a bit of bad news mate, I'm going to the cup final in February, I've only got one ticket, so you can't go, I'm sorry" He showed me the thick grey ticket. My eyes filled up a bit, I said "It's ok Dad" I was trying be valiant in defeat, when in reality, I was fucking guttered. I began to walk out the door and my Dad called me "But guess what, I'VE GOT TWO!!!"
And he whipped another ticket out his pocket, I could see clearly he had two tickets in his hand, but I refused to believe it. "Am I going Dad, have you really got two tickets, am I going to Cardiff, really?"
To which my Dad replied "Deano, me and you are going to Cardiff son, we're going to watch the REDMEN lift the cup"
I was just ecstatic, jumping round everywhere, I grabbed the two tickets of the table and just stared looking at them for ages and then ran out shouting to my best mate "John, John, I'm going to Cardiff, I'm going the final"
I was running over to my mates, jumping everywhere like a loonball (I was genuinely a crazy kid any way, yeah... I was one of them) Any way my antics seen me nearly get ran over crossing the road, car slammed on and beeped it's horn at it's loudest. I ran over showing my mates the tickets, they were all amazed too.
It was special moment. Problem was, this was in January, so it was a fair few weeks to the final still, must of been the longest few weeks of my life, the endless hours in school, I put a Liverpool calendar up in my room to count the days down, seemed to slow. But slowly but surely February 27th 2001, gradually descended.
My First Final:
Part 2
6.30am, the door handle of my room goes, of course I can hear it, I'd been be up since twenty past three in the fucking morning playing on FIFA 2001 (You know, the one with Paul Scholes on it) on Playsation 2. I couldn't sleep with excitement. I must of played about 30 Liverpool vs Birmingham matches, you know, just to get in the mood. Various cry's of CARRAGHER, TO GERRARD, INTO HESKEY, FOWLER, FOWLER SHOOTS, GOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL. Then I'd realise it Was half two in the morning and I'd be reminded of that by loud banging coming from my mum and dads room, in to which I faintly heard "KEEP THE F***ING NOISE DOWN". So, the door handle goes, I know it's time, I'm pretending I'm asleep, smiling into my pillow and I hear the words I'd been loathing for all night 'Deano, Deano' my dad gave me a little nudge 'It's cup final day mate, come on, get up, in the bath and then off we go'. So of course I immediately leaped out of bed, ran into the bathroom hastily, my dad already had my bath run, I nearly broke my neck getting in the fucking thing (Bit excited).
So I was washed, clean, comfy, got into some clothes (And no, I didn't go anywhere near the Rockports thank you very much) put my big coat on, got my little red Liverpool hat on and of course, my famous red scarf (Which I actually still wear today for the match) and off we set to the 'coach', yes we were going on the 'coach' as my dad liked to repeat to me far too often. It was a musky day, rainy, cloudy, slight breeze. It was only a little walk to where the coach was parked up. I remember walking up to it, all the flags in the window of coaches, so me and my dad took a seat on the coach and the journey began. The back of the coach was just full of mad Liverpool fans drinking too much and sinking their hearts out (Much like me now funnily enough) and I always the one chant "Tell me mar, me mar, to put the champagne on ice, we're going to cardiff twice, tell me mar, me mar..TELLLLLLL ME MAR, MAR..' They sang it all the way! It was great. I can't really remember the coach there to be honest, I know it took something like five hours and I just remember my Dad saying 'We're hear, I think we got there around one o'clock. The sun had marginally come out by then, but you could tell it was still going to rain.
So me and father made way for something to eat, it was fair to say, I was STARVING. Because I really couldn't be bothered eating my dads half assed attempts making ham butties. So I waited 'till we got off the coach. And then it was 'dad, dad, can we go to MacDonald's' he took me there and I scranned away at my big mac meal. I felt a slight bit sorry for him, because even though he said countless times 'Are you enjoying that' I knew he was secretly thinking in his head "Little shit, not eating my ham butties". Now it was my dads turn for a bit of fun, he wanted to go the pub and have your typical couple of pints before the big game, I do this now, it's part and parcel of the game, difference was, I was mad loonball ten year old, who wanted to go in the ground a whole hour before kick off (You know, as it is when you're a kid). So when he said 'Come on we'll go for a quick pint', well it's fair to say World War III broke out. 'I wanna' go in the ground dad, no, that's not fair...' yep, I well and truly spat my dummy out and in the end turned my dads head around and so we made for the stadium... Cardiff was in sight, the turnstile's were in few, just a couple of more yards and I was in the Millennium Stadium, for the first cup final of the season. The 2000/2001 Worthing Cup Final, Birmingham City v Liverpool FC.
My First Final:
Part 3
To be continued...
Part 1
It was Liverpool V Birmingham, Worthington Cup Final 2000/2001 season, the season we did the treble. I was 9 years old. It'd been a hot sunny day in Liverpool, I was in year 4. I'd been to school that day, I stayed afterwords for football training. And I got home, I was sweating, we'd been playing on the field. My older Sister was in, I asked where my Mum and Dad were, she said my Mum had gone to pick my Dad up from work and that they'd be back soon. So I immediately dropped by school bag, flung my horrendous horrific Rockport school shoes off my feet (Honestly, they were fucking awful, ran upstairs, undone a few buttons of my top then pulled it off over my head and quick as I could put my Liverpool Kit on and my trainers on and eventfully ran down the stairs, whooshed out the door in a flash and ran over to my mates who playing heads and volleys against Mrs.Davidson's privets.
I was playing, having fun, doing what any normal 9 year old did round the streets of Liverpool, playing football. I then seen the car coming down the road, my Mum and Dad had parked up the path and my Dad shouted me in "Deano, come here a sec mate, got something for you"
I ran swiftly thinking "Oh he's probably got me some chocolate or something". I got in panting, wondering what I was about to be given. My Dad said "I've got a bit of bad news mate, I'm going to the cup final in February, I've only got one ticket, so you can't go, I'm sorry" He showed me the thick grey ticket. My eyes filled up a bit, I said "It's ok Dad" I was trying be valiant in defeat, when in reality, I was fucking guttered. I began to walk out the door and my Dad called me "But guess what, I'VE GOT TWO!!!"
And he whipped another ticket out his pocket, I could see clearly he had two tickets in his hand, but I refused to believe it. "Am I going Dad, have you really got two tickets, am I going to Cardiff, really?"
To which my Dad replied "Deano, me and you are going to Cardiff son, we're going to watch the REDMEN lift the cup"
I was just ecstatic, jumping round everywhere, I grabbed the two tickets of the table and just stared looking at them for ages and then ran out shouting to my best mate "John, John, I'm going to Cardiff, I'm going the final"
I was running over to my mates, jumping everywhere like a loonball (I was genuinely a crazy kid any way, yeah... I was one of them) Any way my antics seen me nearly get ran over crossing the road, car slammed on and beeped it's horn at it's loudest. I ran over showing my mates the tickets, they were all amazed too.
It was special moment. Problem was, this was in January, so it was a fair few weeks to the final still, must of been the longest few weeks of my life, the endless hours in school, I put a Liverpool calendar up in my room to count the days down, seemed to slow. But slowly but surely February 27th 2001, gradually descended.
My First Final:
Part 2
6.30am, the door handle of my room goes, of course I can hear it, I'd been be up since twenty past three in the fucking morning playing on FIFA 2001 (You know, the one with Paul Scholes on it) on Playsation 2. I couldn't sleep with excitement. I must of played about 30 Liverpool vs Birmingham matches, you know, just to get in the mood. Various cry's of CARRAGHER, TO GERRARD, INTO HESKEY, FOWLER, FOWLER SHOOTS, GOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL. Then I'd realise it Was half two in the morning and I'd be reminded of that by loud banging coming from my mum and dads room, in to which I faintly heard "KEEP THE F***ING NOISE DOWN". So, the door handle goes, I know it's time, I'm pretending I'm asleep, smiling into my pillow and I hear the words I'd been loathing for all night 'Deano, Deano' my dad gave me a little nudge 'It's cup final day mate, come on, get up, in the bath and then off we go'. So of course I immediately leaped out of bed, ran into the bathroom hastily, my dad already had my bath run, I nearly broke my neck getting in the fucking thing (Bit excited).
So I was washed, clean, comfy, got into some clothes (And no, I didn't go anywhere near the Rockports thank you very much) put my big coat on, got my little red Liverpool hat on and of course, my famous red scarf (Which I actually still wear today for the match) and off we set to the 'coach', yes we were going on the 'coach' as my dad liked to repeat to me far too often. It was a musky day, rainy, cloudy, slight breeze. It was only a little walk to where the coach was parked up. I remember walking up to it, all the flags in the window of coaches, so me and my dad took a seat on the coach and the journey began. The back of the coach was just full of mad Liverpool fans drinking too much and sinking their hearts out (Much like me now funnily enough) and I always the one chant "Tell me mar, me mar, to put the champagne on ice, we're going to cardiff twice, tell me mar, me mar..TELLLLLLL ME MAR, MAR..' They sang it all the way! It was great. I can't really remember the coach there to be honest, I know it took something like five hours and I just remember my Dad saying 'We're hear, I think we got there around one o'clock. The sun had marginally come out by then, but you could tell it was still going to rain.
So me and father made way for something to eat, it was fair to say, I was STARVING. Because I really couldn't be bothered eating my dads half assed attempts making ham butties. So I waited 'till we got off the coach. And then it was 'dad, dad, can we go to MacDonald's' he took me there and I scranned away at my big mac meal. I felt a slight bit sorry for him, because even though he said countless times 'Are you enjoying that' I knew he was secretly thinking in his head "Little shit, not eating my ham butties". Now it was my dads turn for a bit of fun, he wanted to go the pub and have your typical couple of pints before the big game, I do this now, it's part and parcel of the game, difference was, I was mad loonball ten year old, who wanted to go in the ground a whole hour before kick off (You know, as it is when you're a kid). So when he said 'Come on we'll go for a quick pint', well it's fair to say World War III broke out. 'I wanna' go in the ground dad, no, that's not fair...' yep, I well and truly spat my dummy out and in the end turned my dads head around and so we made for the stadium... Cardiff was in sight, the turnstile's were in few, just a couple of more yards and I was in the Millennium Stadium, for the first cup final of the season. The 2000/2001 Worthing Cup Final, Birmingham City v Liverpool FC.
My First Final:
Part 3
To be continued...
The away trip we took the lead, but lost in extra time, a memorable run in the FA Cup during our darkest days in the Conference. Apparently that FA Cup run went a long way to keeping the club afloat that season.
