Seven years on from the greatest night of our lives and it’s incredible how much has changed in football since then. Back then, who would have thought that in 2012, Man City would be the league champions? Who would have thought Roberto Di Matteo would be the first man to win Chelsea the Champions League? Who would have thought a tiny Argentinian would have scored over 70 goals in a season for Barcelona? Or that Rangers would be in administration, or that Roy Hodgson would be managing England, or that Michael Owen would be playing for Manchester United? Who would have thought a massive corruption scandal would be exposed in Italian football? Or Zidane’s last moment on a football pitch would involve him head-butting an opponent in a World Cup final? Or that the goofy, spotty, Portuguese kid playing for Manchester United would later be sold for £80m?
It’s been a crazy seven years in football, but it’s been an even crazier seven years at Liverpool. In 2005 we were the familiar, old, family club that we’d always been. David Moores was still the owner, we had a manager with a long term future, we had a playing squad that could be improved with a bit of work and a set of support that were still regarded as the best in the game. We were a club on the up. If you’d told me back then that within the next seven years we would have come close to collapse under the ownership of a pair of American cowboys, that they would have sacked our most successful manager for two decades, that our fans would have been torn apart by in-fighting, that they would have appointed Roy Hodgson as manager, that they would have been succeeded by yet more Americans, that Kenny Dalglish would be back in the hot-seat only to be pushed out of the door again, that we would be searching for our fourth manager in three years and that we still wouldn’t have won a league trophy, I would have cried.
Don’t get me wrong, there have been some wonderful moments since Istanbul. I have some amazing memories of FA Cup runs, European nights, trophies at Wembley and Cardiff, our closest challenge for the league title in years and some wonderfully skilled players. But all in all, if I had known that this is where we would be in 2012, I would have torn my hair out. There’s been more pain than pleasure, more disbelief and incredulity, more fighting and anger, more sorrow as bit by bit the club I love has been eroded in front of my eyes. There have been times where I’ve seriously considered walking away, but if there’s one lesson we all took from Istanbul, it was that no matter how bleak things are, you should never, ever, give up. As much as it hurts sometimes, I will not give up on Liverpool, because seven years ago today I was watching the greatest of dramas unfold. And the following day I was stood with 500,000 other reds, every single one of us bursting with pride, as our team brought that cup home. I can’t imagine a better feeling, that whole summer I was wearing a smile, and I’d give anything to live it again. That’s why we follow football, and Man City’s recent drama was a reminder of that.
The way I see it we’re currently 3-0 down; we just finished 8th in the league, our iconic manager was sacked, we lost the FA Cup final to Chelsea and we’re being linked with dubious managerial candidates. The question is can we overcome this? Can we level at 3-3 and take it to penalties? Can we once again experience nights as crazy, atmospheric and joyous as Istanbul? It might take a miracle, but as we all know, miracles DO happen.
