You Never Walk Alone
Luck, Plans, Streakers and Football
I was tired, jet lag tired. Not sleepy as as much as out of sorts. Being off your normal takes a toll. It was all worth it. It had been amazing.
Then it got better.
I happily slumped down into my seat on the train. I had two hours to relax, listen to some music, catch up on work, or not. My 15 year old son Dylan was settled in next to me as I slipped on my headphones and picked some random playlist.
A moment later he elbowed me. I thought I knew what it was. Some man on his phone bangin’ on a bit to loudly. I’d already thought, “I hope he isn’t at this the whole ride.”
I nodded at my son, but he persisted and I took the headphones off. Before I could crack wise at our full-throated companion he said, “listen to him.” I was confused. The question wasn’t asked in irritation, but fascination. The man had a Liverpudlian accent. One familiar to me. But this wasn’t just familiar. I knew the voice.
“Doesn’t that sound just like Jamie Carragher?”
“It does”, I thought. Then I suggested he take a peek.
Low and behold it was the former Liverpool FC player and current TV pundit. Dylan and I smiled at each other. An amusing stroke of luck. You see we are fans of Liverpool. The only kit I have is a Carragher one given to me by my sister (long sleeves, if you know you know).
Dylan got his courage up and went over to introduce himself. Jamie was friendly, happy to chat. Before my son could ask Jamie invited him to take a photo.
My son grabbed me to take the picture and the three of us spoke briefly. He was preparing to be on TV for a football game later that day and we didn’t want to be a bother.
This bit of luck was fitting. Carragher is from a town adjacent to Liverpool called Bootle. Bootle also happens to be where my father is from and that explains why Liverpool is our team and Jamie’s kit is my only one. The previous afternoon Dylan and I had walked to the spot in Bootle where my father was born. Well, close to it. The houses have been replaced by a warehouse looking building that does packaging.
We’d wandered up to the site from Anfield, where Liverpool play. Passing a couple of murals paying tribute to current Liverpool players. We were on a bit of a tour after seeing Liverpool best Watford 2-0. Anfield is quite a place and I feel privileged to have seen the look in my son’s eyes the first time he saw the field.
I’ve been before but going with Dylan checked the box on a sort of “Bucket List,” I guess. I don’t have a bucket list, there are a lot of things I want to do with the time I have.
I’d come with my daughter in 2012.
We’d come up from London on the train as well. On that day Liverpool was playing an FA Cup game against Brighton and Hove Albion. The game ended 6-1, to Liverpool, and featured a hat-trick of own goals by the visitors. After that first visit I filed away a hope. I hoped to do it again with my younger child.
Other highlights of this cultural experience learned by my daughter. One, linguistics. You can drop an F-bomb pretty much anywhere in a sentence. It’s even a sentence on its own. Likewise the “C-word.” It isn’t the same in English as it is in American. And, finally, in some parts of the world, running naked onto the field of play is a good natured thing people do.
I like to the remember the person I was, where I come from, the people and places I come from. Taking in a these games of football and strolling to the spot where my father was born achieved that.
A house without an indoor toilet in an age that might seem distant. It isn’t. Both journeys a magnificent reminder to remember the past and get out in your present so you have a past as well. You Never Walk Alone.