December 4th
https://forums.liverpoolfc.com/threads/408668-quot-On-This-Day-In-L-F-C-History-quot-Part-3?p=15588147#post15588147
Posts 1771 / 1772 & 1773
2004 Aston Villa ( Premier League ) Villa Park 1 -1
I was playing for the Saturday league team again (I can hear the groans but its a good one), the previous week, the day before we played Arsenal was a nightmare, we played a team in a higher league in the cup, we fancied it as we had played them in another cup, although they beat us 6-1 it was not a fair score, one of their players made a point of saying so after to the entire team, 2-1 might have been fair, and at 2-1 we had them on the ropes. So we felt we could match them this time. We were 4-0 down at half time. My preparation was interrupted, just as I started my warm up I was told I had go home with a fella from the team as the dozy bastard showed up with one boot! by the time we got back I had no time to even warm up.
However I have done a huge favour for the team there but to no good, half time we are 4 down. The whole team is all over the place. I actually didnt play that bad, half time the manager went nuts at us, we go back out determined to do something. As I walk back on, he pulls me aside, I am thinking he gonna put me from right back to centre back, maybe ask me to get forward more, but no
"off!"
me "WHAT"
"off"
me "ME>??"
"yes"
I was fucking furious, you know from previous posts I am mistreated and doing a lot for the team with the time I give up etc, I know we are 4 down but I am honestly not playing that bad, our centre backs are just falling over all half, our left back is having the worst game of his life, our strikers are just standing up front blaming everyone else, our midfield is bottling every tackle and are missing the ball when they go to kick it, our keeper, well the only he would catch is a virus but as usual yeah, blame me. I wasnt for hanging around giving lifts. I was livid, a bunch of water bottles are nearby and they are booted in several directions. I get changed and dump my gear in the mud and leave them to find their way home. they go on to lose 7-0 with the guy brought on for me giving a goal away immediately.
Following saturday I am switched to centre back, one of only 6 players to attend training twice that week, playing a team near the top undefeated and hardly any goals conceded. It is a horrible cold, muddy day. We play well, ok we are 1 down after a minute but late on its 2-2, our left back is off injured, his sub is awful so I switched to left back. We are hanging on and I am playing well. Whats killing us is two of our team are constantly giving away frees and have done so at least 10 times on the edge of our box. Flying into tackles for no reason. I am thinking
"they are playing for this, they know when to fall, eventually they will score from one"
End of the match I am hanging, the muddy heavy pitch is like the 70s, every muscle aches, from my hips down I am tortured in agony but I am not coming off, I am not even signalling to the bench, if we can just hang on. Last minute They attack, however I dont dive in, their striker doesnt know what to do, I am blocking him off and he doesnt know how to get past. My team mate in midfield flies in and clatters him from behind. another free. Our assistant manager is going ape shit, but as ever its my fault. I mean dont bollock the lads who keep giving frees away, no blame me yeah, they would have blamed me for world war 2 had I been old enough. Assistant manager is roaring my name across the pitch telling me to put a tackle in and calling me a bottler.
Fuck off, I am playing for the last 25 in two positions in fucking agony and I am not asking to come off, why dont you come on and see if you can play, if you can see over your belly to put your boots on i think, and dont give out to the lads giving frees away all game whatever you do. He roars my name across for ages calling me a bottler, fuck this, we are trying to line up a wall and this mouth is just going on and on. I count to 5, if he is still roaring I will let him have it
him "put a fucking tackle in and stop fannying around. Put a fucking tackle in instead of pussy footing around and standing there, put a fucking tackle innnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn"
me "JUST SHUT UP YOU FUCKING FAT CUNNT"
Game ends 2-2. We apologize to each other but fuck it I wasnt going through that to get called a bottler
My broken body took a week to recover but first had to drive 110 miles up north to see the mrs, who of course whinged at me all night. On the way up I listened to the game vs villa
Harry Kewell scores his only goal of a poor season
