Author Topic: LFC v THFC 1/6/19  (Read 38145 times)

Offline Hinesy

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LFC v THFC 1/6/19
« on: May 15, 2019, 11:44:25 am »

LFC v THFC. A few simple letters that state a fact, but a fact so full of feelings and bewilderment. It ought to have been BCL v AJX. It probably ought to have been BCL v MCFC. I see the burgermeisters of UEFA also had both Spanish clubs in opposite sides of the draw for a Barca/Real final.

But its not. No, it is not.

So here it is. Some of us would have preferred to have taken on Ajax. Some of us will be delighted with Spurs. But whatever happens, all of us are delighted, astonished and ecstatic to be there. These are the days my friends that Liverpool live for.

The Barca match is one of the few occasions in my life where the scoreline made sense and yet was completely mad all at the same time. Incredible in both senses of the word. In all senses of the word. Both emotions co-existing simultaneously. It shouldn't have happened but I wasn't surprised. I can't happen but I expected it. It wasn't the Kop, it wasn't the occasion, it wasn't our history, not the ghosts of Davey Fairclough and Vladimir Smicer: it was a 20 year old scally who passed the ball for a laugh from the corner to Origi when no one else was watching and we're 4-0 up. It was Milner playing in every position, Henderson on one leg. Shaqiri probably having his worst first half in a long time.

It was a lad from Giffnock who was playing for Hull City 2 years ago rubbing the head of the best player in the world.

The GOAT had been shepherded.

It was an sub angry at being a sub scoring two goals in the same minutes two of the goals in Istanbul were scored. And so it goes.

Fuck Suarez, the chubby Freddie Mercury. We love our own, and if you leave with grace we'll love you more. But shit on our doorstep, take our history and culture and abuse it, use it for your own ends, and we'll call you a cheat.

Anyway enough about that other Spanish team, we're off to the other Spanish team's house for a final against Spurs. This makes me nervous. I'd rather be beaten by a team with a long European heritage full of foreigners. I am, of course, aware of the irony. But I'm always always nervous.

But whatever, for once we will probably be the favourites. But you know what? Why not? We beat one of the best teams in the world with one of best players in the world to get there. We deserve to be there. So lets fuck 'em. Lets go out and beat them heavily. Enjoy our football.

These are the days my friends. These. Are. The Days.