Ha, that's ace Vladdy.
Anfield - Too many tourists ?
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Vlads Quiff said:
The scary thing is - the kid on the far left with the shades on does actually look quite a lot like me 😳
singlerider said:Vlads Quiff said:
The scary thing is - the kid on the far left with the shades on does actually look quite a lot like me 😳
The ooters are on the outside though
:wink:
regards
Vlads Quiff said:singlerider said:Vlads Quiff said:
The scary thing is - the kid on the far left with the shades on does actually look quite a lot like me 😳
The ooters are on the outside though
:wink:
regards
If you think I'd get on a bus with a load of cocks wearing capped sleeved t-shirts and vest tops, you're sadly mistaken.
I thought the one draped in the England flag was an actual picture of you Sheiky?
Sheik Yerbouti said:
Are you sure the OOTers aren't the ones on the bus Vladdy?
I went to my first game when I was barely 16.
Saved for months to afford the ferry tickets, the B&B in Holyhead, the train tickets, the Kop ticket, the hostel and my souvineers (sp?).
I had actually seen LFC several times in London prior to that, when our family would visit my uncle in Camden town, and even as young as 9, I would talk my Dad into bringing me to White Hart Lane, Highbury, Kennilworth Road (that took some doing) and Wembley.
But this was my first time at Anfield, and it was magic. Like Ryan and Rosco, I remember every little insignificant detail... The smell of the grub at the stadium, the hour long queue to get into that shed of a gift shop back then, how I couldn't believe how quickly the Kop filled up as 2.50pm approached, how I watched my childhood hero Ronnie Whelan twat Mike Milligan for taking Macca late from behind as they milled around the center circle - It was a real "This is Anfield" moment, and it will stay with me forever... We struggled to break them down for long periods in quite a crappy game, and it was starting to look like one of those games (ALL the possesion, but a 0-1 loss), until a Ray Houghton header with 12 minutes left changed everything. With 6 minutes left Digger scored from very close range, but it was the sweetest goal I'd ever seen.
Anfield. The Reds. My heros. On the Kop. And we won. Life had never been better than right then, in that moment.
And it hasn't diminished in all the years since... THAT'S how important LFC is to me, and to so many of us OOTers.
I have been to a Liverpool game, mostly home but also some away, 100% of the time that I've gotten home from the States in the past 15 years. And for the two hours or so that I spend in the ground, walking, listening, singing, cheering, watching, soaking it all in, life is NEVER so good... I'm twelve years old again. Watching my heros. In the place that I'd spend every waking minute if it were possible. Anfield is like a magical time machine that turns us from normal adults with family problems and job worries and bills to pay and a dodgy car and ridiculous siblings that always need some of your money into wide-eyed little boys who still believe that they could actually wear Ronnie's number 5 some day. It's THAT important.
And maybe that magic means a little more to those of us who get there but once a year (or less now, unfortunately) than those of you who are lucky enough to live there year round... Maybe.
Point being, it's every little bit as important to those of us from the northside of Dublin or the eastside of Dallas as it is to you lucky lot from L4. It still makes (or ruins) our day, weekend, week. It still affects us in ways that should happen to educated, rational adults. Just ask Amy.
Location doesn't change that.
If you're a fan, you're a fan.
Saved for months to afford the ferry tickets, the B&B in Holyhead, the train tickets, the Kop ticket, the hostel and my souvineers (sp?).
I had actually seen LFC several times in London prior to that, when our family would visit my uncle in Camden town, and even as young as 9, I would talk my Dad into bringing me to White Hart Lane, Highbury, Kennilworth Road (that took some doing) and Wembley.
But this was my first time at Anfield, and it was magic. Like Ryan and Rosco, I remember every little insignificant detail... The smell of the grub at the stadium, the hour long queue to get into that shed of a gift shop back then, how I couldn't believe how quickly the Kop filled up as 2.50pm approached, how I watched my childhood hero Ronnie Whelan twat Mike Milligan for taking Macca late from behind as they milled around the center circle - It was a real "This is Anfield" moment, and it will stay with me forever... We struggled to break them down for long periods in quite a crappy game, and it was starting to look like one of those games (ALL the possesion, but a 0-1 loss), until a Ray Houghton header with 12 minutes left changed everything. With 6 minutes left Digger scored from very close range, but it was the sweetest goal I'd ever seen.
Anfield. The Reds. My heros. On the Kop. And we won. Life had never been better than right then, in that moment.
And it hasn't diminished in all the years since... THAT'S how important LFC is to me, and to so many of us OOTers.
I have been to a Liverpool game, mostly home but also some away, 100% of the time that I've gotten home from the States in the past 15 years. And for the two hours or so that I spend in the ground, walking, listening, singing, cheering, watching, soaking it all in, life is NEVER so good... I'm twelve years old again. Watching my heros. In the place that I'd spend every waking minute if it were possible. Anfield is like a magical time machine that turns us from normal adults with family problems and job worries and bills to pay and a dodgy car and ridiculous siblings that always need some of your money into wide-eyed little boys who still believe that they could actually wear Ronnie's number 5 some day. It's THAT important.
And maybe that magic means a little more to those of us who get there but once a year (or less now, unfortunately) than those of you who are lucky enough to live there year round... Maybe.
Point being, it's every little bit as important to those of us from the northside of Dublin or the eastside of Dallas as it is to you lucky lot from L4. It still makes (or ruins) our day, weekend, week. It still affects us in ways that should happen to educated, rational adults. Just ask Amy.
Location doesn't change that.
If you're a fan, you're a fan.
actually,maybe this thread SHOULD be moved to the other forum.its worth it.
reading all these posts makes us reminisce all the wonderful (and not so wonderful) moments this club has given us.
ONE delightful one i can think of was wearing my "Manchester Untitled : The Dead Devils" T-shirt to the gym just after Chelsea had won the title and thmped the Scum 3-0.
was sitting at the juice bar when one Scum fan sat down opposite me and smiled cordially,thinking we were both fans.
the look on his face when he read my shirt closely......ahh....good times 8)
reading all these posts makes us reminisce all the wonderful (and not so wonderful) moments this club has given us.
ONE delightful one i can think of was wearing my "Manchester Untitled : The Dead Devils" T-shirt to the gym just after Chelsea had won the title and thmped the Scum 3-0.
was sitting at the juice bar when one Scum fan sat down opposite me and smiled cordially,thinking we were both fans.
the look on his face when he read my shirt closely......ahh....good times 8)
L
Leftyz
Guest
I think the bigger the club, the more out of towners that go, my dads a manc sh1te and i know, very embarassing, but i was bought up proper, and he says its even worse at the toilet. You hear of people from here going the san siro to see milan and the nou camp so we haven't got it that bad yet.
Welcome to the site Leftyz.
Ok, here's my fourpenneth.
In my world Liverpool Football Club chose me. How did it do that? Well at a time when other kids had their Chelsea bags or their MU bags, I still wanted to follow Liverpool.
Why did LFC pull me so hard, in truth I have no idea but, and apologies for this sounding corny, but it was a Field of Dreams moment. I didn't know why I was following them but I knew it was right. From that moment in 1976, I began the longest love affair of my life.
A love affair, no that's not strong enough, an addiction that will continue until I die. As a 7 year old kid I watched in raptures in my dressing gown, jumping around the room as Messrs McDermott, Smith and Neal won us the European Cup.
Ditto the following year. I lay in bed crying, beyond consolation the following year as Peter Jones described our early exit to Forest in the same competition. The most important two possessions I had were my mini transistor radio (tuned to Radio 2) and my ear piece!!
My best ever birthday presents were my first replica Liverpool kit complete with Hitachi logo (that always peeled off!!), along with my school bag proclaiming "Champions of Europe 1977 & 1978" and my silk scarf that simple said "Kop rules"
The rest of my family looked in bemusement as this addiction took hold and eventually my father gave in and took me to a game - to this day he has little interest in football but still watches for Liverpool's results, either to wind me up or share my delight.
It was 1983 when I finally got to see my heros at Griffin Park, Brentford. As I walked to the ground, my stomach knotted with tension. Would my heros live up to my expectations in the flesh? I was nervous! A tension that has never left. I feel the same way before every game, live at the game, watching it tv or listening to it on the radio.
We won 4-1 and this cemented my love affair, it was like getting engaged. The commitment from both sides was now there. I even got to touch the Kenny Dalglish (he was the greatest of them all) on the shoulder as he got off the coach.
This was swiftly followed by a league game away at Upton Park, again we won, this time 3-1 a Robinson hat trick giving us the points, however the subsequent violence around the ground made my father think twice about taking me for some time.
No matter the affair grew, I watched in horror as Heysel unfolded, I danced with delight with my replica top in my home town of Twickenham as we won the double in 1986.
Then in 1987, I finally married the object of my desire. The final commitment was made and I made my first trip to Anfield. My father, now over his West Ham "experience", drove me and my friend and using his usual sense of irony, parked the car outside Goodison while we ate our lunch - cheeky git!
He left me and my friend in the queue for the Kop and we went in and that first view of the pitch was like seeing a woman naked for the first time, it takes your breath away.
The swaying, heaving mass that was the standing Kop was my perfect day. We won again, 4-3 versus Leicester and Ian Rush (four goals or two) scored a hat trick
Then came Hillsborough - I've cried and cried and cried over this too many times to mention. More than the loss of any girlfriend or relationship.
Since then the love affair has gone from strength to strength. Sure it was tested under Souness but deep down, I always loved the club, the team, the city and the people.
I am lucky enough to have the means, to attend more games than some, I have ensured that I try to take those with the same devotion to Anfield and see the magic. Every trip is a pilgrimage to me and I still get a great sense of pride as I drive into the city of Liverpool - it still grates me that Liverpool is not on the M6 mileage markers before Manchester!
I have made many friends, acquaintances and enjoyed magical moments and heartbreaking sorrow following MY club.
I don't care whether I am labelled a wool, OOTer, a glory hunter, a cockney red or whatever moniker some want to use - I am a Liverpool fan. I know the songs, I know the tradition and I understand what it means to be a Liverpool fan. Its one of the most important facets of my life and I am lucky enough to have a wife who shares my devotion.
My son was born in 95 and was named Robbie - who else!!! You'll Never Walk Alone was played as we walked out of our wedding and during the reception. The tables were named after significant LFC victories.
I lived a dream in Istanbul to see my team win the European Cup.
I don't care whether Scousers don't like me (but I haven't found any that don't yet apart from Blues!), I will always follow Liverpool.
Liverpudlians have always welcomed me to their city, they are a very proud people and have every right to be. I will never be Scouse but I always feel like a Scouser the moment I reach The Rocket.
Not care as much as a local? Who knows and more importantly who cares. Caring cannot be measured like that, I know I care and that's whats important to me.
I love LFC, I talk LFC and I spend an inordinate amount of time on an LFC website. In short, words cannot adequately describe the emotion I go through following my club.
LFC is a way of life that dovetails with the other parts of my life and I never want it to change!
In my world Liverpool Football Club chose me. How did it do that? Well at a time when other kids had their Chelsea bags or their MU bags, I still wanted to follow Liverpool.
Why did LFC pull me so hard, in truth I have no idea but, and apologies for this sounding corny, but it was a Field of Dreams moment. I didn't know why I was following them but I knew it was right. From that moment in 1976, I began the longest love affair of my life.
A love affair, no that's not strong enough, an addiction that will continue until I die. As a 7 year old kid I watched in raptures in my dressing gown, jumping around the room as Messrs McDermott, Smith and Neal won us the European Cup.
Ditto the following year. I lay in bed crying, beyond consolation the following year as Peter Jones described our early exit to Forest in the same competition. The most important two possessions I had were my mini transistor radio (tuned to Radio 2) and my ear piece!!
My best ever birthday presents were my first replica Liverpool kit complete with Hitachi logo (that always peeled off!!), along with my school bag proclaiming "Champions of Europe 1977 & 1978" and my silk scarf that simple said "Kop rules"
The rest of my family looked in bemusement as this addiction took hold and eventually my father gave in and took me to a game - to this day he has little interest in football but still watches for Liverpool's results, either to wind me up or share my delight.
It was 1983 when I finally got to see my heros at Griffin Park, Brentford. As I walked to the ground, my stomach knotted with tension. Would my heros live up to my expectations in the flesh? I was nervous! A tension that has never left. I feel the same way before every game, live at the game, watching it tv or listening to it on the radio.
We won 4-1 and this cemented my love affair, it was like getting engaged. The commitment from both sides was now there. I even got to touch the Kenny Dalglish (he was the greatest of them all) on the shoulder as he got off the coach.
This was swiftly followed by a league game away at Upton Park, again we won, this time 3-1 a Robinson hat trick giving us the points, however the subsequent violence around the ground made my father think twice about taking me for some time.
No matter the affair grew, I watched in horror as Heysel unfolded, I danced with delight with my replica top in my home town of Twickenham as we won the double in 1986.
Then in 1987, I finally married the object of my desire. The final commitment was made and I made my first trip to Anfield. My father, now over his West Ham "experience", drove me and my friend and using his usual sense of irony, parked the car outside Goodison while we ate our lunch - cheeky git!
He left me and my friend in the queue for the Kop and we went in and that first view of the pitch was like seeing a woman naked for the first time, it takes your breath away.
The swaying, heaving mass that was the standing Kop was my perfect day. We won again, 4-3 versus Leicester and Ian Rush (four goals or two) scored a hat trick
Then came Hillsborough - I've cried and cried and cried over this too many times to mention. More than the loss of any girlfriend or relationship.
Since then the love affair has gone from strength to strength. Sure it was tested under Souness but deep down, I always loved the club, the team, the city and the people.
I am lucky enough to have the means, to attend more games than some, I have ensured that I try to take those with the same devotion to Anfield and see the magic. Every trip is a pilgrimage to me and I still get a great sense of pride as I drive into the city of Liverpool - it still grates me that Liverpool is not on the M6 mileage markers before Manchester!
I have made many friends, acquaintances and enjoyed magical moments and heartbreaking sorrow following MY club.
I don't care whether I am labelled a wool, OOTer, a glory hunter, a cockney red or whatever moniker some want to use - I am a Liverpool fan. I know the songs, I know the tradition and I understand what it means to be a Liverpool fan. Its one of the most important facets of my life and I am lucky enough to have a wife who shares my devotion.
My son was born in 95 and was named Robbie - who else!!! You'll Never Walk Alone was played as we walked out of our wedding and during the reception. The tables were named after significant LFC victories.
I lived a dream in Istanbul to see my team win the European Cup.
I don't care whether Scousers don't like me (but I haven't found any that don't yet apart from Blues!), I will always follow Liverpool.
Liverpudlians have always welcomed me to their city, they are a very proud people and have every right to be. I will never be Scouse but I always feel like a Scouser the moment I reach The Rocket.
Not care as much as a local? Who knows and more importantly who cares. Caring cannot be measured like that, I know I care and that's whats important to me.
I love LFC, I talk LFC and I spend an inordinate amount of time on an LFC website. In short, words cannot adequately describe the emotion I go through following my club.
LFC is a way of life that dovetails with the other parts of my life and I never want it to change!
Right, I'm off to the game lads to twat a Cockney Red.
Sheik Yerbouti said:Right, I'm off to the game lads to twat a Cockney Red.
Ha ha ha!! Nice one Sheiky. Ya bastard!
Too many tourists/OOTs?
Yeah, but only cos they tend to be so much more quieter than Scousers.
I dunno why that is; perhaps a cultural difference in the case of the North/South divide? I've a feeling that's part of it at least.
Maybe it's for the same reason Jamo stated, as they fear derision due to their accent?
Part of it's certainly familiarity, I know I went the match from 9 years old, & used to shout some fucking stupid things, but I'd be gently pulled up (literally in them days!) by the fella's behind & gradually learnt what to say & what not to say.
As adults we're much more self-aware, & some what insecure regards making a complete twat of ones self in front of 40 odd thousand people, strangely enough!
Whatever the reasons, it leads to a 'diluting' of the atmosphere I grew up watching Liverpool in.
I have the upmost respect for our fans out of Liverpool, but that doesnt stop the very fact that they attend games makes it less & less like the Liverpool I fell in love with.
Yeah, but only cos they tend to be so much more quieter than Scousers.
I dunno why that is; perhaps a cultural difference in the case of the North/South divide? I've a feeling that's part of it at least.
Maybe it's for the same reason Jamo stated, as they fear derision due to their accent?
Part of it's certainly familiarity, I know I went the match from 9 years old, & used to shout some fucking stupid things, but I'd be gently pulled up (literally in them days!) by the fella's behind & gradually learnt what to say & what not to say.
As adults we're much more self-aware, & some what insecure regards making a complete twat of ones self in front of 40 odd thousand people, strangely enough!
Whatever the reasons, it leads to a 'diluting' of the atmosphere I grew up watching Liverpool in.
I have the upmost respect for our fans out of Liverpool, but that doesnt stop the very fact that they attend games makes it less & less like the Liverpool I fell in love with.
Well the numpty count from today included an Irish lad sat right in front of me who (and I do not exaggerate here) spent about 25 minutes of the first half taking photos and messing round with his x12 optical zoom. He even took a photo of the Club badge on the front of the Annie Road stand. Watch the match you tit, you're wasting a ticket.
Fucking foreigners, they're like Japanese tourists outside Buckingham Palace. It's a football match not Euro Disney.
Fucking foreigners, they're like Japanese tourists outside Buckingham Palace. It's a football match not Euro Disney.
Sheik Yerbouti said:
You get to go to game every fcuking week. Anfield, the greatest football arena on Earth, gets your arse in it every two weeks. All your family and friends know what it's like, and it's never more than a 20 minute drive away from where you live. Remember that.
That "Irish lad" for all you know could have saved up for months to be able to get to that game today, and probably couldn't believe his luck that he was sat in the famous Spion Kop. So what if he took fcuking photos? Next week when you're grump, sleepy arse is sat back in it's same seat. that lad won't have that fortune. He'll have photos to look back at though, cos it means that much to him.
Have you any idea the expense, time and effort that goes into taking a weekend to Liverpool? No, you don't.
Castigating some lad cos he had the temerity to take a photo. What a load of fucking bollox. You have no idea how lucky you are.
Ryan said:
Did you have it on auto or manual Ryan?
regards
:wink:
Ryan said:
I don't think that he's rubbishing the photo-taking, but rather the fact that he was doing it for 33% of the game... Now if true, that IS bollix, mate.
Get there early. Stay late. But for 95 odd minutes between 3 and 4.55 the ONLY thing that should be on your mind is paying attention the the game. I've been 35/40 times, and I STILL get there approx 90 minutes before kick-off every time, and wander around, take my snaps, watch warm-ups from the front row, chat with the stewards, etc... But you HAVE to be ready to go when the match starts - That's not asking too much, is it?
First visit or not, pay attention to the game - There'll be time enough for snapping when the dealin's done...
Ryan said:
You've really gone off on the wrong tangent with this one mate.
It's people like that lad today who add to the "tourist debate". He spent a minimum of 20+ minutes not even watching the game. Really it didn't matter where he came from, Scouser, Irish, Danish, he was a waste of a seat. You're right, maybe he is sitting at home now reminiscing over his pictures of the urinals at Anfield or ten a penny pictures that you can get anywhere off the net. He is there to support his team. Isn't that what this whole topic has been about?
Having forked out a supposed fortune to see his idols, the team he loves, he missed most of this unique, once in a lifetime experience zooming in on a blade of grass.
Yes, I am fortunate to have a season ticket and live close to the ground, a privilege that costs me a minimum of £600 a season before paying for cup games. When you have a young family to support, that "privilege" comes at a cost. So please, don't try to have a go and preach at me on that one.
You should know that most of my post was written to get a reaction but I didn't think you'd fall for it.
Whaddapie said:
Gotta agree with that.
Ross got there about 4 hours early as I remember...
A
Ace_of_Hearts
Guest
Sheik Yerbouti said:
600 quid a season and you're sounding as if you've just sold your soul...
Hear me loud and clear now.
When I was young, I would give a limb just to visit Anfield. That's right. A limb. Fcuk the 600 quid, mate. Anfield was like the holy land to me. Now as a grownup, I've been to Anfield many times but till this day, I never forget how priviledged and fortunate I am to be able to do something hundreds or maybe thousands all over the world dream of.
I once talked to a group of japanese lads who travelled 18 hours on the plane just to watch their idols play. These guys are freaking fanatics. They know almost everything there is to know about the club, heck...one of them even know the age and height of all the players.
So if they were sat in front of you, would you be thinking 'fcuking japs, put away your Kodaks and Fujis ??' ? Would you ?
Or would you be thinking 'Fucking annoying tourists ?' cos it seems to me that you think all japanese have that typical 'snappy happy' mentality.
So what if they were not oriental ? What if they were some australian or irish lad frantically taking pictures of 'The Holy Land' that he's anxiously about to boast to his mates and family back home ?
You see, if that lad was only taking pictures just to show off the quality of his brand new digital camera, then yes, I'd happily give a kick up his arse too.
But no, we both know that's not why he's at Anfield. He's at Anfield because he's fulfilling a dream, a childhood dream he has wished for so many years and he's savouring the moment. Every single second of it.
The legendary atmosphere at the Kop End, he's heard from one of the many tales of the old timer down his local pub back home. The many songs that he's heard of on tele that's said to exemplify the well-known Scouse wit. The touching of Shankly's statue which prior to that day was a fabled manisfestation that existed only in his imagination.
Ahh...now he has done all those and have pictures to prove them as well. Now he can return home gleaming with pride, satisfied at the knowledge that he's finally fulfilled one of his lifelong dreams and ambitions.
Did he really care about which formation Rafa played or which substitute did Rafa put on in the 62nd minute ? 'Course he did. He remembered every bloody second of every moment in the match.
But that's not really why he was there, was he ? No. The match was 2nd priority, cos after all he's already watched countless matches of his favourite team on tele. Stepping foot in Anfield was his upmost priority. Whatever comes after was a bonus.
So....
Read all that, take it in, and understand every single word of it. Then put yourself in the shoes of that Irish/Oriental/African/Australian/Etc lad who's happily snapping away for 20 odd minutes of the match in front of this old grumpy Scouser who's lucky enough to frequent almost every home game, just cos he bloody lives down the road from the ground. Suddenly this scouser taps your back and then tell you to put away the camera (rudely as well) and to stop distracting him watching the match. What would you do ?
Well, I dunno about you but if I was in that lad's shoes, I'd take my reliable camera, knock the scouser's head off, then ask him to mind his bloody business and tell him not to distract me from *enjoying* the match. Notice the key word is 'enjoying'. It's my right to enjoy however way I want at the game, I paid for that right and no xenophobic, old, grumpy local twat is gonna take that away from me.
Right, let's dispel some myths here shall we:
I'm not a Xenophobe.
I didn't make the point of the financial cost initially, Ryan did.
You don't know me so therefore haven't got a clue what I have to do to pay for my season ticket every year. The fact I live in Liverpool is totally irrelevant.
The whole idea of this thread was about Anfield turning into a tourist attraction for OOTers. I made a point that the lad at the match yesterday only added to that debate. To me, it is odd that someone would not even bother watching the vast majority of the game, whether a Scouser or from any other part of the world. Curious that just because I said he was an Irish lad everyone jumped on the defensive. Who's to say he doesn't live in Liverpool.
I couldn't really give a toss what people do in the match but again, in my opinion, it was a waste of a ticket. Someone who might actually be interested in the game could have got more enjoyment from it.
I'm not a Xenophobe.
I didn't make the point of the financial cost initially, Ryan did.
You don't know me so therefore haven't got a clue what I have to do to pay for my season ticket every year. The fact I live in Liverpool is totally irrelevant.
The whole idea of this thread was about Anfield turning into a tourist attraction for OOTers. I made a point that the lad at the match yesterday only added to that debate. To me, it is odd that someone would not even bother watching the vast majority of the game, whether a Scouser or from any other part of the world. Curious that just because I said he was an Irish lad everyone jumped on the defensive. Who's to say he doesn't live in Liverpool.
I couldn't really give a toss what people do in the match but again, in my opinion, it was a waste of a ticket. Someone who might actually be interested in the game could have got more enjoyment from it.
A
Ace_of_Hearts
Guest
Sheik Yerbouti said:
With that reply, it means you can't be arsed to debate with me. 2 reasons. Either you lack the intellect or you know I make perfect sense and simply can't win with me.
So I've succeeded in making you look like a fool.
Again.
Yes....*yawn* indeed it was....No challe....zzzzzzzz...whatsoe.........zzzz...
Ace_of_Hearts said:
See above.
A
Ace_of_Hearts
Guest
Ace_of_Hearts said:
That's twice now.
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