My Everton #173: Forever Indebted

My Everton shares first-hand accounts describing the most-treasured memories of fans, players, and staff both past and present. 

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There are a few things in life that, if you’re lucky, you get to experience and remember for all your days – some for good reasons and some not… your wedding day, birth of your children, death of a loved one, passing your driving test, your first trip on an airplane, and even as an Evertonian the dark days of Heysel and Hillsborough are painfully etched.

But, if you’re one of the lucky few to experience your first live football game at Goodison Park, then it is certainly something you will cherish forever.

I have my uncles, John and Mike, to thank for this sweet moment and I will be forever indebted. The score, however, was nil-nil, played on a drab Saturday afternoon against a tough, albeit forgettable Coventry side.

But that experience became the catalyst for a life of highs and lows as an Everton supporter.

There are football memories that come with their own unique recollections of sound, of smells, of tired legs and lungs.

The buzz of anticipation as you walk to the ground, via a pub of course for “a glass of shandy for the lad”, the Toffee Lady, a souvenir matchday programme, a pie at half-time, the cheers, the boos, and of course, the singing.

There was joy, sadness, anger, love and above all a sense of belonging at those games. Strangers becoming friends for a couple of hours, sharing stories of games past, never to meet again… until of course on that ferry to Rotterdam!

I cannot talk about my boyhood and young adulthood years of Everton Football Club without talking about ‘that’ night at Goodison Park.

Bayern Munich came to L4 in search of their own treble and left with that raucous noise still ringing in their ears.

What I will never forget, despite the half-time score, was the sheer volume… the continued singing through half-time (to be fair, you couldn’t move anyway it was so packed), the wall of sound that met the players as they returned for the second half, and the positively seismic-scale cacophony when the equaliser went in, and the continued noise through the other goals and final whistle.

In true Scouse parlance, that place was “proper buzzin’ lah”.

Despite all these very vivid memories, I simply cannot remember the walk home from the ground that night.

I’ve been told by John and Mike there was more singing, laughter, tears even, but the events of two or three hours prior just refuse to give way to anything else that day.

They take pride of place at the forefront of my memory bank and they are not moving.

Thank you, Everton FC, for one of the most joyous days in my life.

Thank you too for showing the world what it means to be an Evertonian, from the city of Liverpool, when our neighbours were hurting and needed our comfort in support of the 96 people who tragically lost their lives that fateful day. Nil Satis Nisi Optimum.

By Ian Hayes, Evertonian