Blue Highways
The moments. Moments like this.
Tonight I am driving up to Liverpool to with my dad to see Everton. You can’t really appreciate the passion until you know a little history.
Recipe for Emotional Attatchment
Take one football club, founded in 1878 which founded the oldest and biggest football league in the world. Add one Walter Jones, who as a small boy sees them win this league in 1901. Send him off to the first world war for for years with a regiment of other Evertonians (which includes some players). Stew in mud and shell regularly and Gas Macht Nein.
Return Walter to Liverpool and add wife and three sons. Make sure they support Everton and take them to matches as often as possible.
Disperse brothers around the world, adding wars and mayhem.
Reunite brothers every 5 or 6 years for a trip to a match. Take grandson (me) to match and repeat as necessary.
I have sat in Goodison Park close to tears watching the blues run out to the tune of Z Cars and the roar of the Glwadys Street stand.
I love Liverpool. That’s where three of my grandparents were from and there’s a part of my heart that will always be. I am looking forward to taking my son to a match up there one day.
But it’s about more than the game. This is father and son bonding and much needed these days. Last time we went up we got rat arse drunk and ended up in a hotel bar with a Spice Girl at 3am.
This time, who knows, but I’ll settle for a win. Don’t know about you but my weekend’s going to rock.
Still not convinced? Read what my dad has to say.
March 17th, 2006 at 9:39 am
You have encapsulated the modern father son bonding ritual. My grandad was the son, my dad the son, me and now my son have continued the tradition.
I just hope the prawn sandwich brigade don’t get to take even more of the seats to block this right to passage.
Even to a non fan there is something about Everton, vociferous even in adversity
March 17th, 2006 at 10:43 am
I can dig it. You have a great weekend, a great time, and tells us the Spice Girl Story when you get back.
Your dad has me convinced it’s time for me to move to Villefranche. Wonder what I’ll do for a living there? OR if they’ll even let me into the country?
March 17th, 2006 at 7:37 pm
It’s lovely! This father/son/tradition thing. How special! Never ever forget those moments (of course you won’t.)
And silly little me thought that you supported Liverpool and your father supported Everton - I was crap at geography and it’s continued to baffle me ever since. (I’m ok if I turn the map the way I’m going… ish!)
March 19th, 2006 at 10:21 am
I’ll let that one go Sooz. This time.
Everton are the team that play in Liverpool. There is another team that play there, called Liverpool, but they are not me.
March 19th, 2006 at 10:22 am
I’ll let that one go Sooz. This time.
Everton are the team that play in Liverpool. There is another team that play there, called Liverpool, but they are not me.
March 19th, 2006 at 11:47 am
My dad was from Liverpool, but he supported Liverpool. This was because his stepfather, who he loathed, supported Everton. Now I am lumbered with supporting Liverpool as well, unlike everyone else in my family on that side. Some things cannot be fought.
June 30th, 2006 at 8:36 am
[…] I remember being in a marketplace in Gambia a few years back and Senegal were playing someone. Many of the traders had come across from there there there were people crouching around radios dotted around the market. Or when my Australian friend Adam celebrated Tim Cahill’s goal against Japan, I was happy for him, because I like to see emerging nations do well in global sport, but also because I knew he has a connection with millions of people also cheering even though it was on the other side of the world where it was the middle of the night. Also, Tim Cahill plays for Everton, which I support and my dad supports and that’s where are family are from, and you can read more about that attachment if you like and what it means to be a fan. […]