So, Istanbul, where to start. I, Murphman and my Neanderthal Kiwi cousin Paul travelled from Gatwick on the 3 night Sportops package on the Monday. The trip started with being picked up by Murph’s cabbie brother (a bluenose) at 04.30, and him threatening to take me back home if I took the piss out of Everton. Met Paul at the airport, got a bit of scran and onto the plane and off to Turkey.
Istanbul airport must have been the best and easiest airport on arrival to gain entry. Very efficient and straight through. So there we were. Istanbul 05 had arrived. I was collared by Turkish TV to give my views on the forthcoming match (the bird interviewing me obviously fancied me). I told her we were gonna win and on asking me if I had a message for the Milan fans, I said just enjoy the trip coz you’ll be going home empty handed. After a quick justice for the 96 I bid her farewell and joined Murph and Paul on the coach.
I’ve never been to Turkey or the Middle East, but as soon as we drove into the city and saw this massive old fashioned city laid out in front of me, with the incredible sight of age old mosques, I fell in love with it. I had a good feeling about the whole trip.
The Monday seems blurred now. A few beers, a kebab (of course), met up with Mr. and Mrs Sutty in our hotel and met Molby and few others who I can’t remember. We went to the Blue Mosque, and Murph had to wear a sarong as he had shorts on. They had an extra large for him but it still looked like a wet suit. Awesome place the Blue Mosque.
The Tuesday was spent at the Grand Bazaar buying Gala and Fenerbahce kits for the kids, Turkey trackie top for me and various bit and bobs for wife and children. Off for more kebabs and a few beers and then on to the Conrad hotel in the evening where I had arranged to meet up with Gérard Houllier for a beer. I considered leaving Murph at home for this as he looked like he was going to become a 5 year old if he met GH. I relented and took him and the backward Kiwi with me. After waiting for about an hour, customary for GH, and us then having had a few beers on tab, GH came in. Bear hugs all around. It was like a who’s who of European football in the bar. We were by the door. The one and only Franz Beckenbauer walked past us, amongst others. While waiting for GH, me and my cousin persisted in telling Murph that Eusabeo and Van Basten had walked in. Murph blind as a bat believed us when it was really just a couple of Turkish fellas. Murph then proceeded to tell everyone he knew on his mobile that Van Basten and Eusabeo were in the bar with him. DUH! GH says we’ll beat Milan. That’s good enough for me. He buys us a beer and after we say our farewells and inadvertently leave him with our bar tab. Oops. Still, UEFA are paying so what the hell.
So to the Wednesday. Wake up nervous as anything. Manage to get some brekky down me but not a lot. On to Thaksin Square and met some of you lot for a beer and chin wag. Wayne, Vic, Will, Jonesy, Matty and various others whose names I forget. Got half a Big Mac down me and went off to the stadium with Paul, leaving Murph with the others to come on later. The coach journey was hilarious. Rows of coaches bouncing along the streets being cheered and waived at by the locals. Unreal. So to the stadium that looks like it’s built in the most far flung part of Istanbul. Off the coach and joined the pilgrimage to the stadium on the ½ mile – 1 mile walk. There is a massive line of people relieving themselves after the journey. It’d be rude not to join them I thought.
Got to the gig to hear Pete Wylie singing Sinful and The Story of Emlyn Hughes. How fantastic was that, and the Turkish guy shouting at everyone to get off the stage as it’s going to collapse. Brilliant.
Into the ground, I’m in my shorts, retro 74 top and my Turkish trakkie top and it’s bloody freezing. Can’t get something to eat or drink as the queues are enormous, and the programme queue was going around the stadium. Unbelieveable. So while we are in our seats, Murph turns up and it’s about 45 mins to kick-off. I go off to the bog and am waiting in line in the urinal and someone starts up the team of Carragher’s song. Soon, the whole toilet is singing it and people are rocking backwards and forwards singing it while they are having a pee. It was like a scene out of the Full Monty. Absolutely hilarious. I get back to me my seat and about 15 mins before kick-off decide to go and squeeze another one out before the match starts. I go in the same toilet and the song is still going. It’s been like handing the relay baton over top whoever walks into the toilet for them to carry the song on. Brilliant.
So the match. It’s been well documented, so I won’t go into detail, but at 3-0 down at half time I became the least nervous I had been for about 2 weeks coz I thought it was genuinely over. It was now a case of get a goal and save some pride. Then the most magnificent YNWA started up followed by we’re gonna win 4-3 and hope started again. Second half kicks off, we get a goal and spirits are lifted. We get the second and I start bricking it again coz it looks like we can pull it around. The place has gone berserk and we’re jumping up and down on the seats. The third goes in and I just stare, arms wide at what I have witnessed. Unbelievable.
Extra time comes and goes with Dudek being the hero with his double save. We’re begging for penalties coz we’d win then. We all knew it. Sure enough, pens, the victory and the most incredible night of football. Carra and Gerrard are just below us hugging people in the crowd, and Murph next to me hugging Alan Kennedy behind us. When Gerrard picked the cup I looked at him on the big screen, saw the fireworks behind the screen and had the biggest smile on my face while at the same time being misty eyed. I will never ever forget that.
So a cab back to the hotel after the game where we met the other reds there and the hotel put the match on for us on their big screen. Got to be about 5 am after annoying the feck out of Murph and Paul with my drunken renditions in the corridor and the bedroom of the Luis Garcia song and the one in honour of Murph, We All Dream of a Team of Ginger Knobs. Serves me right though. 1 ½ hours later I’m barking at the moon with my head down the toilet. I did tell you Murph, that if we won I would be drunk until I was sick!
Dave (Gravy)
