28 Jan 14 we went to the Liverpool/Everton Derby (pronounced darby because…the British) and just when I think American sports took the fan out of fanatic, I always remember that the British do it better.
Ben & I had driven up from Letchworth. It’s our honeymoon.
Notes from the game:
Clapclapclapclapclap
Oooooooooh
Liverpool is up 4 to 0. My husband’s on his feet. Whistles. Heys.
Suarez is playing his ass off
Songs I don’t know the words to
A crowd that knows all of them singing in unison. Big sounds. Estatiscism. Excitement.
Clapping. Cheering. Real cheering.
Cheers of fans who’ve been here for years who love and follow every moment of this team.
Come on Liverpool. Come on make it count. Ya little bastards.
They did. We woke up late, His hand is bruised. He had mud all over the back of his jeans and jacket. My shoes were mud covered. I was mad at him. We had our first fight of the trip. We worked it out during the 4h drive. I like us together very much.
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