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nomad
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Discussion Starter #1
Hey there mates,
I thought we could do with an off-topic thread, I noticed that in some threads it hasn't been going very friendly between some of us Liverpool fans, so maybe having an informal thread where we can discuss things other than football, new people can introduce themselves, etc :)

What about choosing the first topic to talk about? Maybe everyone doing a brief introduction about themselves (even if some of us were around for quite a while :eek: )

Cheers
 

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:lala:
 

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Winter is Coming.
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Been following LFC since 02/03, Hasn't been that long but i've learned a lot in that time. It quickly grows on you. Didnt follow football at all before so it was my first love. I still remember we were going 12 games unbeaten at the start of the season and after Dec it all went down.

Obviously haven't been around as long as some of you, I live in the Province of Ontario in Canada and am currently attending University there.
 

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born in Huyton and now live in Bootle, i am 4th generation red, my great-grandfather, Grandfather, Father, me and now my son who is 5th.

I have been following Liverpool snce 1970 as long as i can remember really, nothing comes close than the love i have for my club, to me Liverpool Football Club is like a religion, Anfield is my Church.

I have many great moments in my time with Liverpool, some which i dont want to go into, some are of course unhappy footballing memories like my first cup final in 1977 against Manchester United, never cried so much in my life as i did that day...........then there are the happy memories like the game against St. Etienne with the great David Fairclough, not forgetting the win over Madrid in Paris and of course the beating of Roma in there own city was very very pleasurable.

I could go on but i wont as i'll just keep waffling on, i just hope all the new lads who support the greatest football Club in this world, have the magical times that i have had in following our Beloved Liverpool

YNWA

Keep the Faith
 

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Thought you've been around for a long time already ON, from the way you talk abt things ;) respect.

Been supporting Pool since the 1996 FA Cup Final, the one that we lost to Cantona's goal. Followed the club ever since, read every single newspaper report, every single pics with caption. Got more into the club after getting into the university, when I had unlimited internet access, and cable tv to watch the games.

Like ON, learned a lot in a short time, although mine is a slightly longer 4 years than ON's 2.

I dream abt Pool every single day, wondering the things that could've happened, and the things that might happen. Wishing that Gerrard stays and Kewell finds his footie boots again, and someone like Macca will return.

I always believe that when you've come to love Liverpool, you couldn't love any club else.

YNWA.
 

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My name is Justin, i've been a Liverpool addict since 2002. Me and a friend stayed up to watch the World Cup for pretty much every game, 5 or 6 in the morning for most games here in the US. I was mezmorized by Michael Owen, and started following Liverpool because of him. Understandably, I was crushed this summer when we sold him, but I supported the move because we had no other option. I really think that Rafa is a world class manager, and look forward to many trophies under his guidance.
 

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Been supporting Liverpool since the 1995 :cool: :cool:
 

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Owenization-NRG said:
Didnt follow football at all before so it was my first love.
I know what you're talking about. Liverpool was my first love, too. Actually the love affair has been going on for more than 10 years now (yeah, I'm that old :D).

Oh, and karrmadamaii, what a beautiful post. Brought me to tears :proud: :).
 

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International
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The last of the last.

The year was 1988 and being a 13-year-old whose impressions on football were limited to discussions amongst my more enlightened and informed classmates and the odd match which my old man caught on the telly.

I was at my cousin’s place and it so happened, it was May and being nominal football fans with nothing much to do as teenagers, my cousins had the FA Cup final on. Who were playing? Liverpool and Wimbledon were squaring off with the Merseysiders aiming to complete a double, while for Wimbledon, a win would give other non-League clubs hope that given time, they could have a fair shot at the big tin pot.

All of us sat there, captivated by the play of both the teams, with Liverpool arguably being the better side. However, Lady Luck was not smiling at them and it took a questionable penalty (I remembered the controversy surrounding Dave Beasant’s save because it was alleged that he moved forward from the goal line before the referee blew his whistle) to complete the fairy tale ending. It was a historic moment because I supported the underdog and I knew that underdogs rarely got the chance to win the biggest prize in England (back then, there was no such nonsense such as the FIFA World Club Cup). I watched and even celebrated a little when I saw the Crazy Gang paraded the cup around Wembley, leaving Dalglish’s side, crushed, having their dreams of another double dashed.

The next day, I pored through the sports pages of the rags and copied down the names of the players who played that day with special emphasis given to the “heroic” Wimbledon players. Little did I know that in the course of the next year, the impressive displays of the men in Red, led by the now-retired Kenny Dalglish would convince me that I would bleed red for the rest of my life. Ironically, the FA Cup victory I celebrated also meant that it was the last time Liverpool had a genuine and relatively simpler shot at grabbing the double.

I had a classmate who supported Everton and afternoons after afternoons we would crowd around him and asked for his opinions on the latest developments in English football. Being the better informed one because he bothered to pore through the football news and reports and having privy to acquire regular editions of the Shoot! Magazine from his pocket-money, I was a little surprised that he did not convert all of us into Blue-nose supporting fanatics. By 1989, I was no longer a fan of the Blues. By 1989, I was going ga-ga over the great mesmerizing runs of John Barnes (down the left, even before Giggs plied his trade in English football), the clinical finishing of Ian Rush and John Aldridge and the heroics of the “Clown Prince of Football” Bruce Grobbelear (complete with his equally colourful caps). I could still vividly recall Kenny Dalglish standing in the Anfield dug-out (back before they built proper seats) and flanked by the ever-loyal Ronnie Moran. Crown Paints were the words and I followed the exploits of this great team throughout the season, back when there were little or no “live” broadcasts of English First Division matches on the telly.


Almost a year from Wimbledon’s FA Cup victory, I was at my cousin’s place once again. Now being more informed with regards to the team in red, I was looking forward to the big match of the month in April - Nottingham Forest versus Liverpool Football Club in the FA Cup semi-final. For most of the weekend, the local press would copy off articles from their English counterparts in building up to this big game. It was the wily Brian Clough, then the only more successful manager than seemingly upstarts like Kenny Dalglish or Colin Harvey, whose Nottingham Forest side boasting players like Steve Hodge and the English international Nigel Clough (who would leave City Ground for Anfield a few seasons later) would try to wreck Liverpool’s chances of yet another double. All week, I was looking forward to watching my heroes beat the snobbish Forest team. All week, I was relishing the chance of watching Barnesy marauding down the left and harassing the relatively strong Forest defence. All week, I was thinking about how the players would go a long way by beating Forest, going to the FA Cup final, winning it and banish once and for all the ghosts and failures of the year before.

The venue for the match?

Hillsborough, 1989.

The morning after, there was no news about how the team in red from Merseyside had advanced to the final. The morning after, there were no celebrations. Reports after reports on the telly were all playing over and over again the chaotic scenes at Hillsborough. Until today, I can still picture how the waves of hapless fans were moving towards the metal grates and how the grates could no longer support the weights of hundreds of bodies. Until today, I can still picture how people were using the advertising boards as makeshift stretchers to carry the injured. I can still remember how play was stopped very early in the first-half.

Weeks later, pictures on the telly would show people laying wreaths at the Kop and how the club I grew to love would be in mourning for the 96 deaths.

The FA Cup semi-final was replayed, with Liverpool FC considering withdrawal from the tournament in respect for those who perished. We won it by beating Forest and secured the FA Cup, only for George Graham’s Arsenal to deny us the double by giving us another heartbreak (via Michael Thomas) at Anfield. We won the League in 1990 and that was the last hurrah we ever had.

I came to support Liverpool FC only at the end of our glorious era. Sometimes, I wished I came to support them earlier, so that I could still hold on to the sweet memories of Rome 1984 or the tragedy of Heysel 1985 or even our halcyon years of the 70s and 80s.

Despite the team’s continual flattering-to-deceive performances in the 1990s, I stuck with them through the reigns of Ronnie Moran, Graeme Souness, Ronnie Moran (again), Roy Evans, Gerard Houllier and now, Rafa Benitez. I have waited 15 long years and witnessed the dominance of our much-hated neighbours down the East Lancs Road during this period.

I believe that our win against Juventus was a start. It gave me belief again that I will live to see the day when we lift the Premiership trophy for the first time in history and winning the English League title for the record 19th time, something that our Russian friend and his Moneybags team will never be able to surpass or emulate for at least 50 years, no matter how much money he ploughs into the club. Not even his billions can buy that.

My heart will continue to bleed red and I will forever have the Liverbird on my chest for as long as I live.

You’ll Never Walk Alone.
 

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Winter is Coming.
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Liverbird said:
The last of the last.

The year was 1988 and being a 13-year-old whose impressions on football were limited to discussions amongst my more enlightened and informed classmates and the odd match which my old man caught on the telly.

I was at my cousin’s place and it so happened, it was May and being nominal football fans with nothing much to do as teenagers, my cousins had the FA Cup final on. Who were playing? Liverpool and Wimbledon were squaring off with the Merseysiders aiming to complete a double, while for Wimbledon, a win would give other non-League clubs hope that given time, they could have a fair shot at the big tin pot.

All of us sat there, captivated by the play of both the teams, with Liverpool arguably being the better side. However, Lady Luck was not smiling at them and it took a questionable penalty (I remembered the controversy surrounding Dave Beasant’s save because it was alleged that he moved forward from the goal line before the referee blew his whistle) to complete the fairy tale ending. It was a historic moment because I supported the underdog and I knew that underdogs rarely got the chance to win the biggest prize in England (back then, there was no such nonsense such as the FIFA World Club Cup). I watched and even celebrated a little when I saw the Crazy Gang paraded the cup around Wembley, leaving Dalglish’s side, crushed, having their dreams of another double dashed.

The next day, I pored through the sports pages of the rags and copied down the names of the players who played that day with special emphasis given to the “heroic” Wimbledon players. Little did I know that in the course of the next year, the impressive displays of the men in Red, led by the now-retired Kenny Dalglish would convince me that I would bleed red for the rest of my life. Ironically, the FA Cup victory I celebrated also meant that it was the last time Liverpool had a genuine and relatively simpler shot at grabbing the double.

I had a classmate who supported Everton and afternoons after afternoons we would crowd around him and asked for his opinions on the latest developments in English football. Being the better informed one because he bothered to pore through the football news and reports and having privy to acquire regular editions of the Shoot! Magazine from his pocket-money, I was a little surprised that he did not convert all of us into Blue-nose supporting fanatics. By 1989, I was no longer a fan of the Blues. By 1989, I was going ga-ga over the great mesmerizing runs of John Barnes (down the left, even before Giggs plied his trade in English football), the clinical finishing of Ian Rush and John Aldridge and the heroics of the “Clown Prince of Football” Bruce Grobbelear (complete with his equally colourful caps). I could still vividly recall Kenny Dalglish standing in the Anfield dug-out (back before they built proper seats) and flanked by the ever-loyal Ronnie Moran. Crown Paints were the words and I followed the exploits of this great team throughout the season, back when there were little or no “live” broadcasts of English First Division matches on the telly.


Almost a year from Wimbledon’s FA Cup victory, I was at my cousin’s place once again. Now being more informed with regards to the team in red, I was looking forward to the big match of the month in April - Nottingham Forest versus Liverpool Football Club in the FA Cup semi-final. For most of the weekend, the local press would copy off articles from their English counterparts in building up to this big game. It was the wily Brian Clough, then the only more successful manager than seemingly upstarts like Kenny Dalglish or Colin Harvey, whose Nottingham Forest side boasting players like Steve Hodge and the English international Nigel Clough (who would leave City Ground for Anfield a few seasons later) would try to wreck Liverpool’s chances of yet another double. All week, I was looking forward to watching my heroes beat the snobbish Forest team. All week, I was relishing the chance of watching Barnesy marauding down the left and harassing the relatively strong Forest defence. All week, I was thinking about how the players would go a long way by beating Forest, going to the FA Cup final, winning it and banish once and for all the ghosts and failures of the year before.

The venue for the match?

Hillsborough, 1989.

The morning after, there was no news about how the team in red from Merseyside had advanced to the final. The morning after, there were no celebrations. Reports after reports on the telly were all playing over and over again the chaotic scenes at Hillsborough. Until today, I can still picture how the waves of hapless fans were moving towards the metal grates and how the grates could no longer support the weights of hundreds of bodies. Until today, I can still picture how people were using the advertising boards as makeshift stretchers to carry the injured. I can still remember how play was stopped very early in the first-half.

Weeks later, pictures on the telly would show people laying wreaths at the Kop and how the club I grew to love would be in mourning for the 96 deaths.

The FA Cup semi-final was replayed, with Liverpool FC considering withdrawal from the tournament in respect for those who perished. We won it by beating Forest and secured the FA Cup, only for George Graham’s Arsenal to deny us the double by giving us another heartbreak (via Michael Thomas) at Anfield. We won the League in 1990 and that was the last hurrah we ever had.

I came to support Liverpool FC only at the end of our glorious era. Sometimes, I wished I came to support them earlier, so that I could still hold on to the sweet memories of Rome 1984 or the tragedy of Heysel 1985 or even our halcyon years of the 70s and 80s.

Despite the team’s continual flattering-to-deceive performances in the 1990s, I stuck with them through the reigns of Ronnie Moran, Graeme Souness, Ronnie Moran (again), Roy Evans, Gerard Houllier and now, Rafa Benitez. I have waited 15 long years and witnessed the dominance of our much-hated neighbours down the East Lancs Road during this period.

I believe that our win against Juventus was a start. It gave me belief again that I will live to see the day when we lift the Premiership trophy for the first time in history and winning the English League title for the record 19th time, something that our Russian friend and his Moneybags team will never be able to surpass or emulate for at least 50 years, no matter how much money he ploughs into the club. Not even his billions can buy that.

My heart will continue to bleed red and I will forever have the Liverbird on my chest for as long as I live.

You’ll Never Walk Alone.
Just when you know what he's all about, he writes something like this :D

Walk on through the wind :D Walk on through the rain, [...] and You'll Never Walk Alone! :)
 

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What the hell? That read a lot like Hornby's Fever Pitch.

Same deal for me as Owenization, including location and occupation. Strange, indeed.
 

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Lansdown said:
What the hell? That read a lot like Hornby's Fever Pitch.
Really? 'Read the book a long time ago, so I don't really remember.. except feeling that I so could relate to what Hornby was saying. How long did Arsenal have to wait, anyway? 15 years?
I thought what LB wrote was beautiful :proud:.
 

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Indeed O-NRG, just when you thought you knew what he was all about, he comes up with that :shades:

That was class LB. Respect.

THere is only one Liverbird. :cool:
 

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nomad
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Discussion Starter #16
Great post Liverbird :star: :thumbsup:

I'll talk about myself.. Not much to say though
I started supporting Liverpool in 2001, much due to the Owen factor, I look now at those days and I wonder what made me like him so much, he never was a fan favorite. I even used to believe that I'd support any team that he moves to, but here I am now, still red as my blood, and proud of being one :cool, no departure of Owens, Fowlers or Gerrards (if he leaves) will make me alter my love for my team: LIVERPOOL :heart:

I'm looking forward for more replies from great members such as Yasir or Paw :)
 

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Winter is Coming.
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If I did I'd be bankrupt... I love to play with friends though... Texas Hold em? That's the only one I know... Do any of you brits know Gus Hansen? :D
 
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