Football doesn't get any more beautiful than this.
How many years after years of drooped heads and frustration and it all comes down to this. My faith and love have finally been paid off in the most spectacular and heartstirring fashion I could ever imagined. I pity all those who missed every single second of this match (maybe except in Milan's fans case) , coz this is exactly what makes life worth living--what makes all the shit u had to put up with worth it. This is what life's about.. to be stamped upon n kicked about n spitted on in the worst manner imaginable, only for there to be a light at the end of the tunnel. What's even sweeter than glory (finally =,) was the fact that we started off as underdogs; the brokers were pinning an embarassing 80/1 odds against us.
Maldini's 1st goal in 53 seconds to time probably silenced alotta Liverpudlians out there, not the way any of us would want a Champs League finals to kick off. The only consolation was that there was still the rest of the match to redeem ourselves and back then, I didn't doubt that an equalizer was beyond our grasp. The Crespo brace finally killed off any hope left in my dying optimism. Our attack was not exactly world class thruout the competition, this much I concede, but our defence(our only consolation) looked like lambs out there waiting to be slaughtered by a butcher called Kaka. Kaka. U know how stupid that name is? "Kaka driving the ball forward..." "Beautiful, deadly pass by Kaka". Irked the hell outta me. Sound more like a cockatoo's cackle than a proper name to me.
Half time, I was grim, sad, feeling like shit, and screwing myself for being so naive to believe we even stood a chance. 3-0 down. Equalizing was beyond conception. No way we can break Milan's wall not once, not twice but THREE times. Could not believe we came so far just to get thrashed like this. Loyalty and belief are two entirely different things. I could swear to you there's only room for Liverpool in my heart, but there was no way I was gonna let myself believe we'll pull off sth miracle-worthy tonight in Turkey.
But I willed myself to watch on, with Harold's distant yet comforting words and the defiant chants of the red part of Atasturk Stadium insisting "We're gonna win this 4-3". It's a beautiful thing to be part of--the spirit, the courage, the fearlessness, and the defiance that is Liverpool. 2nd half kicked off in what would unfold to be a dreamy-like fairytale to my teary eyes.
That miraculous, unbelievable, larger-than-life 6 minutes. That was all it took, just 6 minutes to make me believe in God. A football God by the sacred name of Rafael Benitez. He crafted those 6 minutes that will forever be immortalized in the hearts of every Liverpudlians out there. My baby Stevie's header was unbelievable by itself and so so typical of him to sparked off the most unbelievable comebacks in the history of soccer.
By the time Smicer's long range found its way to the back of the net, I was on bended knees, biting on nails, tears pouring out of my disbelieving eyes. It was better than any dream I had. My screams and cries and shrieks woke Dad up, that old cynical man whose heavy eyes jolted wide open at the sight of the score.
Unbelievable. And like a dream, the equalizer I yearned for so badly materialized in the form of Xabi Alonso. I jumped, hollered, sang like a mad old cow when the referee pointed to the spot. This is the closest I've ever come to a heart attack. Alonso's shot was saved by Dida(great save btw) n I was crying, this time outta fury but then.. it got in!!! It fucking found its way to the back of the net and joy was converted into an outpour of tears in a blink.
That was the best dawn of my life by a million gazillion miles. I didnt care whether we win or not. Winning would definitely be a bonus, but this is the Liverpool I've waited for so long and believed in. It's the spirit in them that makes them winners already.
Milan may have played like the better team, but they didn't have what it takes mentally to be the champs. This is what soccer truly is; the essence of the game best represented by the underdogs, Greece, Porto, and now, us. It's not about the money, Roman boy. It's not about just that one person, Andriy. It's not about the "Galactico of Stars", Owen dah-ling.
It's about love. It's about the comradeship and brotherhood and belief that makes this game loved by millions. I am lucky to have Liverpool in my life. To have such a beautiful team out there, reminding me that dreams only serve the believers. Extra time was agonizing for me. I had to close my eyes on numerous occasions, and Dudek pulled off saves after saves terrifically. It was as if we had the backing of some inconceivable forces behind us. Dudek vs Shevy, Dudek won, hands on.
The goalie I mocked and ridicule and doubted ever since he gifted Forlan that horrendous MU goal went off to save two penalty kicks later. He and his wobbly legs tactic. The title has yet to sink in for me, as it shakes the whole of sporting world today. Liverpool FC, King of Europe.
Isnt life beautiful?
You tell me, isn't life amazing?
How many years after years of drooped heads and frustration and it all comes down to this. My faith and love have finally been paid off in the most spectacular and heartstirring fashion I could ever imagined. I pity all those who missed every single second of this match (maybe except in Milan's fans case) , coz this is exactly what makes life worth living--what makes all the shit u had to put up with worth it. This is what life's about.. to be stamped upon n kicked about n spitted on in the worst manner imaginable, only for there to be a light at the end of the tunnel. What's even sweeter than glory (finally =,) was the fact that we started off as underdogs; the brokers were pinning an embarassing 80/1 odds against us.
Maldini's 1st goal in 53 seconds to time probably silenced alotta Liverpudlians out there, not the way any of us would want a Champs League finals to kick off. The only consolation was that there was still the rest of the match to redeem ourselves and back then, I didn't doubt that an equalizer was beyond our grasp. The Crespo brace finally killed off any hope left in my dying optimism. Our attack was not exactly world class thruout the competition, this much I concede, but our defence(our only consolation) looked like lambs out there waiting to be slaughtered by a butcher called Kaka. Kaka. U know how stupid that name is? "Kaka driving the ball forward..." "Beautiful, deadly pass by Kaka". Irked the hell outta me. Sound more like a cockatoo's cackle than a proper name to me.
Half time, I was grim, sad, feeling like shit, and screwing myself for being so naive to believe we even stood a chance. 3-0 down. Equalizing was beyond conception. No way we can break Milan's wall not once, not twice but THREE times. Could not believe we came so far just to get thrashed like this. Loyalty and belief are two entirely different things. I could swear to you there's only room for Liverpool in my heart, but there was no way I was gonna let myself believe we'll pull off sth miracle-worthy tonight in Turkey.
But I willed myself to watch on, with Harold's distant yet comforting words and the defiant chants of the red part of Atasturk Stadium insisting "We're gonna win this 4-3". It's a beautiful thing to be part of--the spirit, the courage, the fearlessness, and the defiance that is Liverpool. 2nd half kicked off in what would unfold to be a dreamy-like fairytale to my teary eyes.
That miraculous, unbelievable, larger-than-life 6 minutes. That was all it took, just 6 minutes to make me believe in God. A football God by the sacred name of Rafael Benitez. He crafted those 6 minutes that will forever be immortalized in the hearts of every Liverpudlians out there. My baby Stevie's header was unbelievable by itself and so so typical of him to sparked off the most unbelievable comebacks in the history of soccer.
By the time Smicer's long range found its way to the back of the net, I was on bended knees, biting on nails, tears pouring out of my disbelieving eyes. It was better than any dream I had. My screams and cries and shrieks woke Dad up, that old cynical man whose heavy eyes jolted wide open at the sight of the score.
Unbelievable. And like a dream, the equalizer I yearned for so badly materialized in the form of Xabi Alonso. I jumped, hollered, sang like a mad old cow when the referee pointed to the spot. This is the closest I've ever come to a heart attack. Alonso's shot was saved by Dida(great save btw) n I was crying, this time outta fury but then.. it got in!!! It fucking found its way to the back of the net and joy was converted into an outpour of tears in a blink.
That was the best dawn of my life by a million gazillion miles. I didnt care whether we win or not. Winning would definitely be a bonus, but this is the Liverpool I've waited for so long and believed in. It's the spirit in them that makes them winners already.
Milan may have played like the better team, but they didn't have what it takes mentally to be the champs. This is what soccer truly is; the essence of the game best represented by the underdogs, Greece, Porto, and now, us. It's not about the money, Roman boy. It's not about just that one person, Andriy. It's not about the "Galactico of Stars", Owen dah-ling.
It's about love. It's about the comradeship and brotherhood and belief that makes this game loved by millions. I am lucky to have Liverpool in my life. To have such a beautiful team out there, reminding me that dreams only serve the believers. Extra time was agonizing for me. I had to close my eyes on numerous occasions, and Dudek pulled off saves after saves terrifically. It was as if we had the backing of some inconceivable forces behind us. Dudek vs Shevy, Dudek won, hands on.
The goalie I mocked and ridicule and doubted ever since he gifted Forlan that horrendous MU goal went off to save two penalty kicks later. He and his wobbly legs tactic. The title has yet to sink in for me, as it shakes the whole of sporting world today. Liverpool FC, King of Europe.
Isnt life beautiful?
You tell me, isn't life amazing?