The curse is lifted

Liverpool 1 Manchester United 2
Premier League Sunday 9th November 2003

Strange time for a kick-off but it made for an easy journey up the M6 and
even despite the fact that there had been a accident at the end of the M62
we still arrived with time to spare. We parked the car in a safe (if
anywhere is) spot and walked the mile to the ground checking off the shell
suits as we went. The local purveyors of Scouse �style� are obviously
peddling the gaudy look at the end of 2003 as I wish I�d taken my shades
with me. They must have been missing the eighties with all that bright blue
and purple around. 

I left big Rich outside the ground and went through the obligatory search
before entering Anfield. There were still 25 minutes to go before kick-off.
Inside I stood chatting with Phil when from the corner of my eye I saw a
smiling face, and then another. It was the bearded twins. Oh my god, I
thought, not at Anfield of all places - not the bearded twins. I kept
telling myself that they were the doctor�s curse not mine, but there was
still a residue of doubt. I was feeling nervous enough before without a
close encounter like that.

I never look forward to going to Anfield. So why do I go then, you might
say? Because you never know - you may just be there when United win and win
well, and when you are, there is hardly a better feeling in football. So
it�s worth taking the risk of it going the other way. But it�s hardly ever
an enjoyable experience until the win is confirmed (if it is). My seat was
towards the back of the stand just to the right of the goal, and by the time
I got there the teams were due on the pitch. �Bring on the Champions� gave
me a lift and sent me back to my first visit to that place back in the
sixties when the result, in a bruising encounter, was 0-0. I�d settle for
that now I thought to myself. That day United played in all white, as they
did yesterday. It�s funny how things like that either give or take away
confidence. All white at Anfield is right to me - it looks right.

Before the game there was a full minute�s silence in remembrance. It was
impeccably observed. But once the whistle went a wall of sound blasted it�s
way around the ground. But for our hosts that was all it did as it quickly
dissipated and they more or less left us to sing on our own. And sing we
did. The range of United anti-Scouse songs is almost without limit. There
are enough to keep the most ardent Scouse baiter content for at least 90
minutes. �14 years� was a constant reminder of just how long it�s been.
�Feed the Scousers� part of the pre-festive spirit. �City of Culture - are
you �avin� a laf?� a ludicrous idea. And, �You�re just a self pity City�
spoke for itself.

The first half was not a great advert for football, and not an inspiration
to anyone. I can�t remember Tim Howard having much to do, but there again, I
can�t remember Jerzy Dudek, down at the other end, having much to do either.
Off the pitch, there was plenty to do and home frustrations mounted, one man
in particular couldn�t contain his pathetic bitterness any longer and
frequently resorted to the aeroplane. He was duly pointed out and eventually
ushered out to several cheerios while still doing the aeroplane, albeit with
his arms almost down by his side. A very sad sight indeed, but a fitting end
for a demented soul.

With him out of the way we concentrated on the local inability to master the
idea that work, of whatever kind, was the only decent way of perpetuating
society. �Stand up if you�ve got a job� produced puzzled looks, and while
most remained seated pondering on the most simple of words, one actually
stood up. But only one! �Sit down if you�re signing on� confused even more.
The one who�d been standing up, sat and then realised his mistake and got up
again, the rest remained seated anyway! By the end of the first half
everyone needed a break.

Liverpool were out first for the second half and as Dudek made his way to
the goal at our end he seemed to be suffering from a misunderstanding.
�Jerzy Dudek is a red - he hates Scousers� was received with a smile and a
wave. Good lad! But by the time, �Who put the ball in the Scousers� net?
Jerzy f**kin� Dudek� had run it�s course - I think he�d cottoned on!

I�d been hoping that United would come out and do something positive to rid
me of the nerves that had been building all game, but the Scousers were
first to show. Good job Tim Howard hadn�t gorged himself on half time
oranges or he�d never have got to Kewel�s shot. It was a flying save and
spiced up the game from that moment on. �We�re shit and we�re Champions� was
our response as things were not looking too promising. And then everything
changed. United gained the ascendancy, Dudek almost gifted us a goal as he
passed out to Giggs who�s first time volley almost eluded him. Then a deep
cross from Giggs did elude him and eventually nestled in the corner. From
where I was I could see the curve of the cross perfectly. Ruud just missed
it, but it had been enough to distract Dudek and the outcome was met with
much enthusiastic celebrating.

Over where big Rich was standing one of the local coppers was engulfed by
celebrating reds, but the same copper had been joining in with the banter
all through, although I�m not convinced he would have enjoyed several bear
hugs from ecstatic reds. Nearer to us one of the other coppers was quietly
celebrating - very quietly! Must�ve been a blue. On the touchline a certain
person leapt to his feet to remonstrate with his team and was greeted with,
�Sit down Pinnochio� and, �Get your nostrils off the pitch.�

Despite the goal and the celebrations my nerves were not much better. Mind
you - when Giggs put us 2-0 up I did feel a a great deal better! Poor Dudek
- the ball seemed to go right through him at the near post. Several Scousers
then got up and left as the strain on the Mickies was beginning to tell with
both Diouf and Gerrard (saved by Forlan who he thanked afterwards) were very
fortunate to stay on the pitch.

The �12 days of Cantona� very nearly inspired a third for United who were in
still control. �Champions League are you �avin� a laf?� and �Shit on the
Scousers� we taunted. �Are you England in disguise� and, �Does the Social
know you�re here?� we enquired. But unfortunately it didn�t last. United sat
back and let the Mickies come on to them. It was very nearly disastrous and
became extremely tense when Kewel pulled a goal back. There were 15 very
long minutes to go. �We were hanging on� said Fergie. Too bloody right we
were. I thought back to the Scousers who had deserted when Giggs scored the
second goal and how pissed off they�d be if their team were to mount an
incredible comeback. And then I thought I must have a bloody death wish to
think such thoughts and spent the rest of the game being haunted by them.

The last ten minutes of the game were an absolute nightmare. The two young
French lads were already on and were inspirational. Of our central defensive
pairing only Silvestre was looking anything like, and made one absolutely
remarkable tackle to prevent a one-on-one with Howard. Liverpool piled on
the pressure and the agony. I began to wonder about the curse. The image of
the bearded double act loomed large in my head as the final minutes ticked
away slower than anyone would ever imagine. The only fact that made it
slightly bearable was that it all happened at the other end and was
difficult to see. Consequently I couldn�t see the penalty incident, but we
were lucky to get away with it. Anfield had at last generated noise and the
locals were expectant. When Murphy played a perfect pass through to Heskey
in injury time there was a split second of silence. To all intents and
purposes 2-2 looked more than probable when fate intervened, Heskey lost his
footing and the Anfield groundsman got a bollocking for over watering the
pitch. The ball skewed wide from a couple of yards out and an immense
exhalation of air from the Red Army polluted the skyways.

Finally the ref put us out of our misery and there was mucho relief all
round. The team lead by, who else but Gary Nev, came over and celebrated
with us. We had already been informed we would be kept behind - not that we
expected any different, so we set about celebrating in earnest as the
disconsolate Scousers ambled out with drooping shoulders and heavy hearts. I
don�t know how long we were kept in but the singing hardly stopped. The
remaining stewards must have been desperate for the announcement allowing us
to leave, and when it finally came we left to victorious cries of, �Red Army
- Red Army.�

Out in the streets the Scousers stood around looking fairly pissed off but
there was no bother. Neither was there any on the way back to the car as I
walked along with Dave (nephew of said bearded twins) and informed him that
the curse had been lifted. The journey back was not as easy as the one up to
Murkeydive. As we turned off the M62 for the M6 south, the traffic was at a
standstill, so we went north, came off at the next junction, back south on
the M6 and then to Manchester back on the M62 again. Round the M60, onto the
M56 and eventually back to the M6. The major advantage of this, apart from
avoiding the traffic at a standstill was that we could enjoy poking fun at
the odd bitter blue heading back after City�s 3-0 home defeat by Leicester.
Couple with that, when we finally rejoined the M6 and stopped at Sandbach
services, it was full of Scousers. The journey may have taken us twice as
long as when we drove up that morning, but it definitely had it�s
pleasurable side!
-- 
Copyright Paul Windridge 2003: http://www.Red11.org
--


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