Once A Red, Always A Red

Have an epic weekend, and you'll spend the Monday suffering the Monday Blues with the idea of resuming reality being a cruel one. After days of counting down, hours of excitement build-up, and miles of travelling, my Liverpool weekend finally came to life - the weekend that I lived and breathed Liverpool. I experienced the Anfield tour and I witnessed Liverpool legends grace the pitch. I felt every emotion that can possibly be associated with supporting a football club. I had the best weekend of my life.

Saturday was tour day; a 6am start that normally would take the life out of me but was worth every second that followed. There's something about stepping into Anfield and retracing the steps of star players; seeing the players' lounge, taking a stab at controlling the Anfield Press Room, visiting the players' dressing room and imagining the atmosphere as they kit up pre-match and prepare for the second half for those significant clashes, taking the momentous walk down the famous tunnel bearing the symbolic Liverpool FC sign, and standing in the most iconic stand in the world, is a feeling that can't quite be put into words. We toured through the Halls of Fame, we snapped the five European trophies proudly on display, and we marvelled at the history surrounding our club. Suffice to say, we left feeling pretty dazed.

And then match-day arrived and after motorway drama involving a broken down truck, we slowly crawled into Liverpool and neared Anfield literally as kick-off was happening. We could hear You'll Never Walk Alone ringing out loud and clear from the stadium as we sprinted from the car park to eventually take our seats completely out of breath. But there we were. Enshrouded in red. Transfixed by the names that were passing in a blur.

We re-lived the memories of the team that won us the 2005 Champions League Final and we cheered insanely so for the likes of Riise, Reina, Kewell, and Babel (God we've missed him). We went mad for the flashes of brilliance from Thierry Henry and the goals from Drogba and Balotelli (what goals they were). We sang Alonso's song loud and proud, because there he was. After all this time, he was back in the Liverpool midfield. Alongside Steven Gerrard. And we waited patiently for the two players we have been dying to see play together since 2011.

The first half came and went; the teams for the second half were called out and finally...finally finally finally we heard the names Fernando Torres and Luis Suarez. But when the teams made their way out of the tunnel, two were missing from the men in black. Anfield was silent. We were on the edges of our seats, craning our heads and waiting with bated breath for them to make their entrance. And then they emerged. We exploded. Anfield was deafening.

The second half was underway and it was mesmerising. We caught a glimmer of the chemistry between Suarez and Torres, the what-could-have-been, and it was incredible. Torres touched the ball and his song echoed from every stand because yes, we still love him. Suarez entered the penalty area and we broke out into his chant because by God is he ingrained in the hearts and minds of every Liverpool fan. The dream partnership? Very much so. The atmosphere was unreal. We sang for Garcia, went crazy as Alonso and Reina left the pitch, and erupted into ear-piercing applause and cheers as Gerrard too, made his exit. Before we knew it, the full-time whistle blew and the players were doing a lap of honour while we went crazy for them. And as they exited through the tunnel, Anfield resounded with You'll Never Walk Alone, just as the rain began to fall. It was beautiful.

The sheer emotion of Liverpool heroes gracing the pitch one final time simply cannot be described, heightened by their tweets and instagram posts that came flooding in pretty much immediately. And that's the incredible thing, isn't it? They've come and gone, imprinted unforgettable moments and gifted us with highs and lows, yet Liverpool is still in their hearts. Just as they are, ours. For 90 minutes, we were all back home; the few, the proud, and the emotional.

That's the thing about playing in red. They're immortalised in that special connection between player, club, and fans. Once a red, always a red.