"And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
[ of watching the 4-3 win at Anfield against the Toon Army ]"

Shakespeare, Henry V, Act 4

--

Well, I feel accursed not to have been at Anfield for one of Football's greatest games. But I had the honour of watching the game live, along with hundreds of other Reds fans in a pub here in Belfast.

15 minutes into the game though, and the initial euphoria of Robbie's goal had been given way to dismay as our defence fell to pieces before our very eyes. Ruddock looked out of place on the left, and the Toon exploited that to the full, as usual Jones had to help him out. And McAteer reminded us that he's not a proper full back as Ginola ran him ragged. 2-1 down.
Bugger.

"Go Man U" shout the Man U fans to our group's side.

Belatedly, we start attacking - the Toon swamp the man nearest the ball. They look really up for it. And Asprilla may be the laziest player I've ever seen in the English football, but he was a constant threat. Mind you if the ref could understand Spanish I think he may have been sent off for foul and abusive language. Batty was thuggish as usual. No change there.

A couple of decent chances for us, but still 2-1 at half time.

Mark Wright didn't come out for the 2nd half, Harko replaced him, and his first touch of the ball put Rob Lee clean through. But Lee bottled it. Every time the Toon attack I started to shake at about 10 Hertz, our defence was all over the place.

Then 10 minutes into the half, Macca sets up Robbie who fires home in front of the Kop and the place erupts in relief.

"Red Scum, Red Scum" shout the Man U fans to our group's side.

Then a big bloke stands in front of the screen and the next thing I see is the ball rolling into our net. Huge chorus of groans. And the Newcastle supporters going bananas. The replay shows its definitely Scales' fault for playing the attacker onside. Dang.

However, we bounced back. Apart from the error, Scales was magnificent.
He spent more time in midfield then defence in the last half hour.
And with 20 minutes to go McAteer delivered one of his brilliant crosses and Stan equalised. Loudest roar of the night so far, local windows start shaking.

What followed was 20 minutes of high drama. James seemed to be playing sweeper - and hit a super 50 yard pass along the touchline. Howey almost scores an own goal. Barnes and Ferdinand had great chances too. Whoa.
I'm glad I'm typing this, as I'm still hoarse from shouting.

91 minutes played.
Scales. To Redknapp. To Scales. To Barnes. 1-2 with Rush. Barnes into the box ... squares to Colly ...

... he's unmarked ...
... he scores !!!

And everyone goes absolutely mental.
Earthquake of 6 on the Richter scale reported in South Belfast.

Oh, to have been in the Kop !

I floated home about 90 centimetres off the ground.
Still buzzing. Still with the deafening cheers that greeted Stan's winner ringing in my ears.

And that night, a lunar eclipse meant even the moon turned red.
It was that sort of night.
Magic.

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