Forumvisning
Blandet visning(Off topic)
skrevet af scouser 
, 2660, , 21.09.2005, 14:07
Dette indlæg er skrevet af en bruger på www.redandwhitekop.com ved navn roper.
Syntes lige i skulle have lov til at læse med.
We got to our gate, my dad handed the tickets/cash over, and lifted me up, and through the turnstiles we went. As we walked towards the entrance I could hear the singing a bit more clearly now, It was a little bit louder, and sounded like it did when it was on the Radio. We walked out of the entrance and just as the light hit my face, and as I could just see the edges of the green Anfield turf, I remember my dad turning round to look at me with a BIG smile on his face. I don’t know whether it was pride, or love, or just a thought of "this is what I felt like when my dad took me too, son".
We were now inside the ground, and the smell seemed different, the pitch looked lush and green the stands – with their different colour seats – looked huge, and right in front of me where my heroes, there was Hansen, there was Grobbelaar, there was Lawrensen, where was he…where was my favourite…."there he is son, down there near the side". There was Ian Rush, my hero, stood signing autographs for fans in the Main Stand. I felt the tingle down my spine, and the hairs on my neck stand up. This was my baptism, and these players and this ground where my religion, I was now a fully fledged Red.”
I’ve written this on here before, it’s my first game at Anfield – and to a degree pretty much what most of my entrances to the stadium were like up until recent years. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve done it, and it’s easy to understand for those who have been under its spell. It's awe inspiring. It's home. It's Anfield.
But those days seem long gone to me at the moment. Football is a shadow of its former self, it’s a sanitised version of events these days. With players going through motions or being told what to say or do. They have no heart, no soul and they couldn’t be any further away from the people on the terraces who look upto them. Its saddening, to the point where it really is worth asking, is it really all worth it?
I know its not just me, and id be interested to hear from long standing Reds on how they feel about it all….Id imagine the fellas from the 70’s and 80’s and further back are devastated with the way the game is now? It’s such a distant memory the days when the players played for you, and were on the whole pretty much just ordinary fellas. Yeah, the fans were cattled like s****, but that was all part of it….you got on with it and the group mentality and being with the ‘box of toys’ got you through it. All Reds together for one cause, no surrender, no ones left behind….a siege mentality. It’s all gone, dust, disappeared for ever.
The days of when the 40 odd thousand [or more] in Anfield where the ones in the know, not every noddy on the street watching the mighty Reds on Canal Plus and having something to say. f***in pisses me off….and yeah, I don’t fully accept your views…why? Cos you weren’t there. That simple. How can someone who is watching TV, and highlights on the TV be even close to someone watching Live from the ground. Seeing the ‘off the ball’ runs that TV just doesn’t show, the off the ball niggles and incidents, the sounds and sights from around you and the ground, the feeling of what’s going on [yer know when you just know!] I crave the days when football falls on its f***in face and implodes. The money dries up and the half arsed fans are drawn away to the next fashion craze. Give me my f***in game and my club back.
The internet is one of the biggest problems with the modern game as well. All these numpties watching games live on blag foreign channels, or even worse a few minutes on Match of the Day [or even Skys football first] now have an arena to openly spout their s****. Gone are the days when it was…..seen in the ground, read in the echo and discussed in the boozer. You were intimidated to openly rag the club in front of mates [or even worse – people you didn’t know] that made you think about your thoughts, and question why you thought them. More often than not, resolving any issues in yer own head before you made a total t** of yerself in front of the lads. And who ever decided phone ins would be good was a total melt…..it’s a breeding ground for blerts and beauts!
Games moved to stupid o’clock….don’t get me started on them….f***in 12pm on New Years day? 2pm, 4pm, 5pm, 8pm…what’s goin on? Give us the chance to watch the lads on Saturday, have a couple of bevs, slide home for a quick “S-S-S” and then out to town with the lads, or yer tart….what’s it all about when you are travelling the length of the country for a Monday night 8pm kick off, only to get home at 2/3 or even 4am in the morning?
As someone said to me today [and I have to agree]…..
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FORZA BRØNDBY ALLEZ ALLEZ
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- - scouser, 21.09.2005, 14:07 (Off topic)
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