Topic: Fatherly Advice

[WOOLTONIAN]

[Indonesian version lower on this page]

A good mate of mine contacted me last night and asked for some advice. The arse had dropped out of his world. The worst thing that could happen to a Red had happened. Here is the story I related to him, to try and blow away the clouds of his misfortune.

The year was 1987, the month September. The bluenoses had been crowned champions in May. Wooly & Mrs Wooly were living in the sleepy hamlet of Woolton Village. Little Wooly (Billy) was about to start his second year at school. After a hard days slog in the office (BICC) and a couple of quick slurps in the local on the way home, I arrived home to be greeted by "You better have a word with that son of yours".

This was not a rare greeting as Mrs Wooly often used the phrase "Wait till yer Dad gets home".

Me lad had obviously been crying, his face all red and his eyes all puffed out. I took the
lad in the kitchen cos it was obviously going to be a man's conversation.

"Whats up lad?" I asked.

"I've been thinking" offered the wee lad.

"Well that's a good start" I came back.

"All me mates in school" a long pause followed "Are .... are .... erm".

"Are what Lad, spit it out".

"Well .... they're Evertonians".

My heart missed a beat or two, what on earth was happening here, "YES?"

"Well I've been thinking ..... perhaps I could be an Evertonian"

My heart stopped, I couldn't believe my ears.

In the space of about three seconds, I thought, How am I gonna explain this to me old fellah? What will me mates say in work when they find out? What have I spawned? Can this be the Antichrist hiding in my son? What are they teaching him in this school ?

"WHAT?!!!" was all I could manage.

"Erm .... I ..... was .... thinking .... I .... could .... be .... an"

I stiffened. "Dont you dare use that word again in this house."

Little Wooly began to shake, but he stuck to his guns. It was my turn to stutter "But .... but .... well don't expect any more pocket money from me" was the best I could come up with.

I could see the lad was determined and nothing I could say would ever change his mind at this moment in time. So I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, Mrs Wooly made herself busy in the kitchen, my little girl sat next to me patting me on the knee, "Its ok Dad" she said.

The bottom was falling out of me world and all I could do was sit there mumbling back to her "You don't understand love".

The only thing for me to do was to take the dog for a walk (usual thing when losing composure). Walking 50 yards up the road I came to a pub; that was far enough, the dog was looking knackered. Sitting in a quiet corner sipping a pint of mild was always my way of sorting out problems and after a short while it came to me!

When I got back home Mrs Wooly was putting the tea on the table. The dog went back to the yard after its lengthy walk, half a bitter and a pack of crisps, while we ate our tea. I finished my tea first and left the table. I went up stairs into the lad's room and picked up his quilt and pillow and returned to the kitchen.

"Have you finished yer tea Lad?"

"Yes Dad."

"Right are you ready then?"

"What for?" he said.

"Well I've been doing a spot of thinking meself and if you're as determined as you seem to be to become ONE OF THEM, then there's only one thing for it. I opened the back door and whistled the dog, "Sam get in 'ere."

The lad looked at me with confused eyes. As Sam ran past me and into his favourite spot in the living room I walked the lad out into the back yard.

"There you go Son, your new Home" said I pointing at the 3 foot x 3 foot x 4 foot kennel and without a word in he went.

I went back into the kitchen, the face on the wife was tantamount to murder and I must admit I felt sick inside. I told her he would knock on the door any minute now and things would be fine. A determined little beggar was young Wooly and after an hour there was still no knock.

My missus was on the verge of going ape. She said, "Let him in love". I looked toward the back door. It was hammering down with rain and as I peeped through kitchen nets. I could see him, he was like a drowned rat. My admiration for the lad had tripled, Evertonian or not he was a determined and very proud lad.

I had to give up, I couldn't let this go on much longer ... and then I heard a little knock. I rushed to the back door and looked through the glass, he was absolutely soaked. Pan-faced as ever I said "Yes Son?"

"Can I come in?" he said. If he could read my mind he would have known HE'D WON.

He stood inside the back door and continued, with a nervous giggle, "It's not the best idea I've ever had, is it"? The tears ran down my face, how heartless could a Father be? Fancy doing that to a boy of SIX - I was ashamed of what I'd done.

We walked together to the bathroom and I ran him a hot bath. He was sitting on the loo lid and I told him about the history of Liverpool Football Club while the bath was running, and I explained that although Everton had won the league, it would be a long time before they ever won it again.

I told him about the virtues of picking a team and sticking with them, as against becoming a turncoat. He just nodded as I spoke. Mrs Wooly stood behind him ruffling his wringing wet hair and giving me daggers at the same time.

After Billy had gone to bed that night I rang my boss and asked him for an emergency holiday, after all this was an EMERGENCY of the highest order. The following day, the little Liverpudlian toddled off to school with a whole new perspective about what it was to be a Red man. Wooly also toddled off to B&Q.

Working like a slave, by the time 3.00pm arrived the project "RED ROOM" was complete. In this short space of time I had painted all his walls and his door with white gloss, all the frames and skirting with red gloss. I had bought a new Liverpool FC quilt cover and pillow. A Liverpool lamp. A Red radio-cassette player (with a Liverpool tape of Kop songs). I had hung all me old European Liverpool flags and Liverpool scarves on the walls. His ceiling was covered with an old banner which had been stapled to the Plaster (not recommended) saying ONCE A RED, ALWAYS A RED, ROME 1977.

A lot of money was spent that day but the look on his face when he got home was well worth every penny spent.

Young Billy is now a 23 year old 6' 3" giant of a man, and has repeatedly thanked his Dad for showing him the light. The story is told as often by him as it is by me and we always laugh together, but I always wonder if he knows how close I came to giving in, and how close he came to living the rest of his life as a BLUENOSE.

© Wooltonian 2004

Post Script:
In todays society above action would probably be classed as child abuse and I would not suggest anyone follows my lead. But doing a lad's bedroom up is still within the realms of good parenthood.

[AdamL]

In todays society above action would be classed as Child abuse and I would not suggest anyone follows my lead.
But doing a lads bedroom up, is still within the realms of good parenthood.

can you still feed bitter to dogs???

beltin read that wooly! did your mate get his lad sorted out in the end then?

[WOOLTONIAN]

Think he's taking the B&Q option

The dog died !
that Greenhalls is shite mate 






forgive my indulgence, picture of my two Grand-Girls 2007

[AdamS]

Thta's one of my favourite ever posts! Absolute class! Cheers for that mate

[Bannside Red]

Enjoyed that Karl, thanks for sharing the memory.

[AngAgius]

You just got to teach them right from wrong.

I dred the day of that happening to me. I've got Chrissy (4 yrs) well enough trained shout Boo Hiss at the mere mention of some teams. She had me worried some time ago when she called one of her toys "Beckham". You're not calling him that was my intial reaction. Tried to explain why it wasn't a good idea. "But Beckham..." I interupted "I won't hear that name in this house". "But Bec...." again I jumped in "If I hear it once more he's going in the bin". I then got the stare. You know the one when they try to weigh up if you're serious or not. "Ok then I'll call him Bogey" 

[AdamL]

You just got to teach them right from wrong.

I dred the day of that happening to me. I've got Chrissy (4 yrs) well enough trained shout Boo Hiss at the mere mention of some teams. She had me worried some time ago when she called one of her toys "Beckham". You're not calling him that was my intial reaction. Tried to explain why it wasn't a good idea. "But Beckham..." I interupted "I won't hear that name in this house". "But Bec...." again I jumped in "If I hear it once more he's going in the bin". I then got the stare. You know the one when they try to weigh up if you're serious or not. "Ok then I'll call him Bogey" 

you let your kid call a teddy bear Bogey?   

[AngAgius]

you let your kid call a teddy bear Bogey?   

Yep, no problem as long as it wasn't Beckham I was happy

[sir roger]

thanks for that wooly im still laffin'

[Dr. Funs Doll]

Cracking story that

[wellsie82]

Karl that post is a fucking belter it really is

Hope to catch up with you for a pint before the season starts 

[Tim-Cross]

Superb

[Jimbo.]

 

Great post.
Every father's nightmare that!
I might have to go through it one day, so I'll remember this post!

[IrishRed]

Karl - superb mate


 


if i'd have seen him at 6 year old i'd have had a word for you mate, but if he was to sway now, after meeting him in the Sandon, you'd be on your own mate

 

[Benitude]

Gold.  Great read.

Poor lad though, and I hope he puts you out in the rain next time you tell him you hate that horrible music of his.

[Micky_G]

Great story, I'll have to remember that one for the future....!
 

[Maggie May]

Working like a slave, by the time 3.00pm arrived the project "RED ROOM" was complete. In this short space of time I had painted all his walls and his door with white gloss, all the frames and skirting with red gloss. I had bought a new Liverpool FC quilt cover and pillow. A Liverpool lamp. A Red radio-cassette player (with a Liverpool tape of Kop songs). I had hung all me old European Liverpool flags and Liverpool scarves on the walls. His ceiling was covered with an old banner which had been stapled to the Plaster (not recommended) saying ONCE A RED, ALWAYS A RED, ROME 1977.

Why was this not in place before, indeed from his birth?  No wonder the poor child was driven to such terrible extremes.   I am absolutely disgusted at such appalling parenting.  Shame on you    Oh, I hope your dog bit you too 

[RazorRat]

best post ive read all week 

[Al Bol]

Fantastic read 

[cakmin]

Good read.
Karl, can I get permission to translate it into another language and send it to the local LFC fans mailing list pleae?
Cheers

cakmin

[miffed]

I am appalled.

Shocked to think that any of us would even stoop to the level this man clearly admits to.

To allow an Evertonian to sleep in his back yard is simply unacceptable.

[Squillary]

Liz's daughter's lad has been brought up as a Birmingham fan. No problem - it's where he lives after all and his dad's mad keen. He's already had a season ticket at Blues since age 2.

Aged 3, he goes to a creche at the local college and shocked us all by coming home one day convinced he was a Man U fan. (Did I say shocked? I meant disgraced...). No discussing or cajoling him could shake him and his mum caved in by getting a Man U kit to go with his Blues kit and England kit (home and away). It's a sad story...

The parents split up over a year ago, so I see him more than I did and I tell him what team I support. I took him to the game at Villa (well, it'd all gone to pot by then) but later in the season a mate wasn't able to go to our away game at Man U so I managed to get 1 adult and 1 kid ticket and take him up there. He's young, so I'm teaching him songs on the way up to keep him occupied and when we get to the game I'm telling him who all the players are and he's getting well into it. A good day all round. Guess who he supports now...

My current problem is that I accept he should end up a bluenose. When I told him he should ask his dad to get him a ticket for the game down here in Birmingham he's quite unshakeable that he doesn't want to go in the home end. He wants to come with me. I know it's wrong, but I can't bring myself to convince him of that. Family disputes are bad enough at the best of times, and we're all happy he's no longer a Man U fan, but I think I've gone a stage too far here and I don't know how to get myself out of it.

I need advice. Genuinely!

[Maggie May]

Don't get out - get in.  It is your duty to rescue this poor child from the evil influences he was subject to until he was fortunate enough, because of you, to glimpse the light and have the opportunity to become a true believer.  Despite his tender years this unfortunate infant is clearly at a crossroads, and the wrong path will blight the whole of his future life.  Will you ever forgive yourself if he grows up to be a bluenose?  You have already rescued him from a fate far worse - it only needs a little more effort on your part.  Be brave. 

[Squillary]

Will you ever forgive yourself if he grows up to be a bluenose?  You have already rescued him from a fate far worse - it only needs a little more effort on your part.  Be brave.

So, you're saying he shouldn't support his local club, from the city of his birth - the team his parents support?

Of course, I'm personally delighted if I'm being entirely selfish, but you're right, I'm not brave.
I'm also thinking, he won't be appreciated by other Reds supporters either, will he?

I'm not convinced... 

[Maggie May]

Normally I would say that of course he should - but we are talking about Birmingham here    As to being appreciated by other Reds supporters, there is an awful lot of hurtful nonsense put about from time to time on this subject, and I don't and never will hold with it.  I can't see any problem about welcoming people who thoroughly know and love our club, are aware of and respect our history and are staunch in their support.  As I've said on another thread at some time, I'm born and bred, with a pure Scouse bloodline,  but that doesn't make me a better or worse supporter that anyone who is not or is a convert.  I also said that regardless of where you come from if you're a red in your heart you'll do for me.  As you doubtless gathered, there was a great deal of teasing in my last post, but apart from the first sentence of this one, I am deadly serious.  People who live outside Liverpool go to games at Anfield at considerable expense and inconvenience, and it incenses me that they should be made to feel unwelcome and inferior by people whose greatest effort is to hop on a bus or walk. 

[mr_mad_master]

classic story  bit of an insult to the dog though isnt it a blunose is surely lower than mans best friend

[sydney_gal]

That's hillarious!!

Funniest thing i've read in ages

 

[AdamS]

I'm also thinking, he won't be appreciated by other Reds supporters either, will he?

I'm not convinced... 

That's the old OOT debate again. Even if everybody was an OOT hater (and that's far from the truth). I'd rather be an unappreciated OOT than a supporter of any other team and I'm sure that's how the lad will see it too!

[Squillary]

Normally I would say that of course he should - but we are talking about Birmingham here 

I know. And they had the choice of a team that's won the League and EC quite recently and still picked the wrong one... (Actually I had a soft spot for the Baggies when I first got here, partly due to BFR - couldn't stick Villa).

As to being appreciated by other Reds supporters, there is an awful lot of hurtful nonsense put about from time to time on this subject, and I don't and never will hold with it.

First, you're right about that being hurtful. I'm not one, but having been away since '78 I almost feel like one and it even touches a nerve with me. It's been quite a culture shock coming on this site only recently to read some bizarre thinking that I barely recognise. It's actually affected me more than I thought.

But your words here have been genuinely reassuring, so I'll gladly put those thoughts behind me. Thanks.

People who live outside Liverpool go to games at Anfield at considerable expense and inconvenience, and it incenses me that they should be made to feel unwelcome and inferior by people whose greatest effort is to hop on a bus or walk. 

Very true too. I go to games regularly - not always ours, because of the cost and I just like football. I get to more away games than home, because they're nearer. I've had periods where I've actually not been to Anfield for a few seasons, but still seen us several times a year. I go in the home sections more than away as well when I've not been able to blag spares. It's actually quite a trial when I go nowadays. Hopping on a bus, it's not...

...and now I'll have a kid in tow as well   

[Maggie May]

Excellent.  I'm envious of the lad - I had to wait until I was 5 before my Dad took me to my first match.  And if you are both referred to as wools and OOTs by ignorant boors - well don't worry - you're both in the excellent company of Messrs Shankly, Paisley, Dalgleish and Liddell!  Hmmm - do I feel a thread coming on?  Something along the lines of "Shankly, Paisley, Dalgleish and Liddell.  Unappreciated wools and OOTs?  Discuss."  I wish you many years of happy towing   

[Filler.]

Magic stuff Karl. Cheers for sharing that.


Did something similar with a nephew ( 8 at the time ) who waltzed into my parents house one day wearing a full Man Utd strip. Being a nephew the emotions weren't anywhere near as deep as yours with your son but I feel I got a taste of it.

'What the fucking hell is that!?'
'What?'
'That!... This!' grabbing it like a soiled nappy.
'What?!' he kept saying knowing full well what I was on about and smirking at me the cheeky fecker.
'Get out, and don't ever look at me again.'

we played football in the garden and pretended he was Beckham and I was Gerrard. I kicked him about, pushing him into hedges and nettles and taking out his legs at every opportunity. He was diving in on my ankles with 2 feet but with no luck. I started picking other players from our past and describing them to him and what they and LFC was all about whilst running around him. 'Right.. come at me... I'll be Tommy Smith.' He's a Liverpool fan now.

A cousin of mine from Ireland married a Manchester lass but got divorced. He remarried a friend of ours about 3 years ago after meeting her at my folks. He had 3 boys. He lives down here now and has the lads at weekends and drives up and down to Manchester (where they go to school) a hell of a lot. The eldest (7/8 at the time) was past it and a Manc supporter and unchangeable. The father also supports MU. His ex-wifes whole family do. They're a great bunch of kids and I love them to death and I have to say I'm proud to have persuaded the 2 younger ones to be full blooded Liverpool supporters. Some of my tactics may have been a tad harsh, but they're bright kids and football mad. I love it when the youngest tells me stories of fights he has in the playground wearing his Liverpool top around a sea of Manc (he's 8 now). 'You shouldn't get into fights at school' his father would hypocritically decree... 'But he was a twat dad!' Cue a clip round the ear from his dad and a smile on my face (and his).

[Maggie May]

Three more converts to the true faith    Good ... Good ... Keep 'em coming,

[Gnurglan]

Class!

[Squillary]

Excellent.  I'm envious of the lad - I had to wait until I was 5 before my Dad took me to my first match.

He's worth the encouragement. I'm not swayed by most claims of genius for youngsters - everyone's got a story. His dad's a Brummie twat of the highest (lowest) order, but has done a good job of making him a footie fan. Fact is, by age 3, he could drop kick a ball the length of the hall to above my head height (excellent timing and co-ordination) and has neatly mastered a drag-back. He's yet to decide whether he prefers being a keeper or (as he calls it) a player.

Only today he showed me the new shin-guards he'd blagged his mum to buy him - his previous ones were broken! (Don't mess with him - that's all!) 

I wish you many years of happy towing   

He'll be towing me before long   

[Squillary]

Some of my tactics may have been a tad harsh, but they're bright kids and football mad.

How familiar that sounds...

It's not big or clever to do a number on a kid, but a man's got to do...   

[Maggie May]

A lovely post Squillary.  He sounds a great lad.  A future Anfield Iron perhaps? 

[Squillary]

A future Anfield Iron perhaps?

He can be anything he likes as long as he stops kicking me. What do you think he's breaking those shin-pads on!

I dread the day someone teaches him about studs-up tackling... 

[dom_d]

Brilliant.

I wish my dad would have decked my room out like that.

 

[Danny Boys Dad]

My little lad has been a Red since birth, he's had LFC babygros and little kits and he's always watched the game with me on the TV, even if he was too young to go.
He loves football but has always been more interested in playing it than watching it. We used to take a little walk down to watch our local non-league side but he always knew about Liverpool. I was going to start taking him last season but his mum said he was too young.
During the summer he really took an interest in Euro 2004, declared himself to be an England supporter (  )and said that his favourite player was Wayne Rooney.
Urgent action was obviously needed, but I wasn't going to upset him or anything. I was very relieved when Rooney broke his foot, and when England were knocked out. I asked him if he wanted to start going to the match and he said yes.
This season the only home league game he's missed is City, and he's been to the Deportivo and Boro cup games and Blackburn away.
He has asked if he can go and see Everton sometime just out of interest, but I don't mind that. A lot of my uncles and cousins are Reds but it never stopped them going to Goodison, been there myself a few times as well. I don't really go in for all that hatred stuff.
If he had wanted to be an Evertonian? That would have been a failure on my part. No kid should get to 4 or 5 and not know who his team is. If really wanted to be an Evertonian then I would have had to go along with it, being a soft dad and that.

[WOOLTONIAN]

desecrator
Indonesian Times
12-07-2005, 07:48 AM
Salah satu teman karibku menelpon semalam dan meminta saran. Hal terburuk
yang mungkin terjadi pada diri seorang fans LFC telah menimpanya. Berikut
ini aku tuliskan kisahku sendiri yang berkaitan dengan apa yang ia alami
saat ini.

Bulan September, tahun 1987. 'Bluenose' (panggilan untuk fans & pemain
Everton) telah menjadi juara liga pada bulan Mei tahun yang sama. Wooly dan
Nyonya Wooly tinggal di sebuah rumah di desa Woolton. Wooly kecil (Billy)
pada saat itu baru memasuki tahun keduanya di sekolah. Setelah menyelesaikan
hari yang melelahkan di kantor dan singgah di bar lokal untuk minum-minum
'ringan' dalam perjalanan ke rumah, aku tiba dan disambut dengan kalimat,
"Sebaiknya kamu menasehati anakmu!"

Ini bukan sambutan yang tidak biasanya karena Nyonya Wooly sering
menggunakan frase "Tunggu sampai Ayahmu pulang!".

Anak lelakiku pasti baru selesai menangis, wajahnya merah dan matanya
membengkak. Aku membawanya ke dapur karena aku tahu ini pasti adalah obrolan
antar lelaki.

"Ada apa nak?" Aku bertanya.

"Aku sedang mempertimbangkan" jawab anakku yang matanya masih basah.

"Oh yah? Itu awal yang bagus." jawabku lagi.

"Seluruh temanku di sekolah,..." dia berhenti agak lama kemudian berjata
"adalah...adalah....ermmm...".

"Adalah apa nak? Ayo muntahin aja!"

"Ermm..., mereka fans Everton".

Jantungku berdegub dengan kencang, apa yang sedang terjadi? Lalu aku jawab,
"Iya, lalu?"

"Aku telah mempertimbangkan...mungkin aku akan mendukung Everton saja."

Jantungku serasa berhenti, aku tak percaya dengan apa yang aku dengar saat
ini.

Dalam jangka waktu 3 detik, aku berpikir, bagaimana aku akan menjelaskan hal
ini kepada teman-teman lamaku? Apa yang akan mereka katakan di kantor ketika
mereka mengethuinya? Apa yang telah aku lakukan? Mungkinkah ini merupakan
semacam 'Antikris' terselubung dalam diri anakku? Apa yang guru-gurunya
ajarkan di sekolah?

"APA?!!!" hanya kata ini yang bisa aku keluarkan.

"Erm .... Aku ..... tadi.... berpikir.... mungkin.... aku....
ingin....mendukung..."

Badanku serasa menjadi kaku, "Jangan pernah kamu berani menggunakan kata itu
lagi di rumah ini!"

Badan si Wooly kecil mulai berguncang, tetapi ia terdiam dan tidak
mengeluarkan suara apapun. Aku juga tidak tahu hendak berkata apa.
"Tapi......tapi....... baiklah. Jangan berharap kamu akan mendapatkan uang
jajan dariku!" hanya inilah kalimat yang bisa aku pikirkan.

Aku bisa melihat anak lelakiku ini begitu gigih dan tidak ada yang bisa aku
katakan untuk merubah pikirannya pada saat ini. Lalu aku duduk di sofa dan
membenamkan kepalaku pada kedua telapak tangan, Nyonya Wooly menyibukkan
diri di dapur, dan anak perempuanku duduk disamping sambil menyentuh
lututku. "Ayah akan baik-baik saja." Demikian katanya.

Duniaku serasa runtuh dan yang bisa aku lakukan hanyalah duduk di sana dan
bergumam kepadanya, "Kamu tidak mengerti, Sayang".

Satu-satunya yang bisa aku lakukan adalah mengajak anjingku jalan-jalan (hal
yang biasa aku lakukan ketika sedang galau). Setelah berjalan sejauh 50 yard
aku sampai ke sebuah pub (bar); cukup jauh, anjingku terlihat sangat lelah.
Duduk di sudut yang sepi dan menghabiskan 1 pint (sekitar 3/4 liter kalo gak
salah) bir adalah caraku menyelesaikan masalah yang baru datang menghantam.

Ketika aku kembali ke rumah Nyonya Wooly menyediakan teh di atas meja.
Anjingku kembali ke kandangnya di halaman belakang setelah jalan-jalan yang
cukup jauh. Kami minum teh sambil menyantap keripik (dan aku minum setengah
pint bir lagi). Aku lebih cepat selesai minum tehku dan meninggalkan meja.
Aku naik ke lantai atas ke kamar anakku dan mengambil selimut dan bantalnya
kemudian kembali ke dapur.

"Apakah kamu sudah selesai minum teh, nak?"

"Ya Ayah."

"Baik, jadi kamu sudah siap?"

"Siap apa Ayah?" Dia bertanya.

"Aku sendiri tadi sudah mempertimbangkan dan jika kamu memang gigih ingin
menjadi 'SALAH SATU DARI MEREKA', maka hanya ada satu hal untuk itu. Aku
membuka pintu belakang dan memanggil anjing kami. "Sam, ayo masuk sini."

Anakku melihat dengan pandangan bingung. Setelah Sam (nama anjing) berlari
melewatiku ke tempat yang ia sukai di ruang keluarga, aku mengantar Billy ke
halaman belakang.

"Ini rumah barumu" kataku sambil menunjukkan padanya kandang berukuran 3
kaki x 3 kaki x 4 kaki dan tanpa 1 katapun dia masuk ke sana.

Aku kembali ke dapur, wajah isteriku persis orang yang hendak membunuh dan
aku harus mengakui rasa mual di perutku. Aku bilang padanya bahwa dia pasti
akan segara mengetuk pintu segera dan semuanya akan beres. Namun dia begitu
gigih dan setelah 1 jam masih tidak ada ketukan sama sekali.

Kemarahan istriku hampir meledak. Dia berkata, "Biarkan ia masuk sayang".
Aku memandang ke arah pintu belakang. Hujan mulai turun dan saat aku
mengintip lewat kasa jendela dapur, aku bisa melihatnya. Dia seperti seekor
tikus kelelep. Kekagumanku pada anak lelaki ini sekarang berlipat tiga,
Evertonian atau bukan dia sangat gigih dan bangga akan pilihannya.

Aku harus menyerah dan tidak mungkin membiarkan ini lebih lama lagi.
Kemudian aku mendengar ketukan kecil. I segera berlari ke arah pintu
belakang dan melihat melalui kaca, dia basah kuyup. Dengan wajah datar aku
berkata, "Ya nak?"

"Bolehkah aku masuk?" Dia bertanya. Seandainya dia bisa membaca pikiranku,
dia pasti bisa menebak bahwa DIA TELAH MENANG.

Dia masuk melewati pintu belakang dan berkata, dengan senyuman gugup, "Itu
bukan ide terbaik yang pernah aku pikirkan bukan?" Aku menangis, bagaimana
mungkin Ayahnya setega ini? Tega melakukan hal seperti ini pada anak berumur
6 tahun? Aku malu memikirkan apa yang telah aku lakukan.

Kami berjalan bersama ke kamar mandi dan aku mandikan dia dengan air hangat.
Dia duduk di atas toilet dan aku menceritakan sejarah Liverpool Football
Club kepadanya saat ia aku mandikan. Aku jelaskan kepadanya bahwa meskipun
Everton baru menjadi juara, akan perlu waktu sangat panjang bagi mereka
untuk menjadi juara lagi.

Aku jelaskan padanya inti tentang memilih sebuah tim untuk didukung dan
tetap mendukung mereka apapun yang terjadi, bukannya kemudian meninggalkan
dan pindah tim. Dia hanya mengangguk ketika aku berbicara. Nyonya Wooly
berdiri di belakangnya mengeringkan rambutnya yang basah.

Setelah Billy terlelap aku menelpon boss dan meminta cuti mendadak karena
keadaan yang sangat gawat, bahkan ini situasi ini merupakan keadaan GAWAT
yang tertinggi. Keesokan harinya, si Liverpudlian kecil pergi ke sekolah
dengan sebuah pandangan baru tentang kebanggaan menjadi fans the Reds. Wooly
juga pergi ke B&Q (mungkin toko perkakas/alat rumah kali? - min).

Setelah bekerja keras seperti budak, menjelang jam 3 sore, proyek "RED ROOM"
selesai dikerjakan. Dalam waktu yang singkat ini, aku mengecat seluruh
dinding kamarnya dan pintu dengan warne putih mengkilap, seluruh frame
dengan warna merah. Aku telah membeli sarung selimut Liverpool FC dan bantal
yang baru, sebuah lampu Liverpool, radio-kaset player Liverpool (dengan
kaset berisi lagu-lagu the Kop). Aku telah menggantung seluruh bendera
Liverpool yang aku bawa ketika menonton Liverpool di Eropa dan scarf
Liverpool di dinding. Langit-langit kamarnya ditutupi dengan banner tua yang
distaples ke 'Plaster' dengan tulisan 'ONCE A RED, ALWAYS A RED, ROME 1977'.

Aku menghabiskan banyak sekali uang pada hari itu tetapi setelah melihat
wajah cerianya ketika dia pulang ke rumah, aku merasa setiap 'penny' telah
digunakan untuk hal yang sangat layak.

Billy sekarang berumur 23 tahun, tingginya 6 kaki 3 inci, badannya besar,
dan telah berkali-kali mengucapkan terima kasih kepada ayahnya karena telah
menunjukkan jalan yang benar baginya. Kisah ini lebih sering ia ceritakan
sendiri daripada olehku dan kami sering tertawa bersama, tetapi aku tidak
pernah memberitahunya bahwa aku hampir kalah dan menyerah, dan betapa ia
telah begitu dekat dengan kemungkinan seumur hidup menjadi seorang BLUENOSE.

*****
Tulisan 'Wooltonian' (nama aslinya Karl .....[apa yah gak tahu deh]), salah
satu suporter 'senior' The Reds, pecinta LFC sejati, sering banget ikut
nonton away games baik di England maupun di Europe, season ticket holder
untuk games di Anfield, aktif di Message Boards liverpoolfc.tv dan juga di
Red and White Kop website - rawk.co.uk.

Tulisan ini diambil dari website RAWK - The Independent Liverpool FC
Website, diterjemahkan oleh Minarwan