Now then, there isn't much more that I can add to the tales of Will and Big Wayne that hasn't already been said......But I'll give it a go and try and put my own slant on proceedings. In other words tell how I saw it (mainly through pished eyes)!!

The road to Istanbul. It really began for me the moment my Focus pulled up outside Wayne’s gaff. It was only then it dawned on me that I was off to see the team I love and adore and had followed ever since my Granddad had put me on his knee and told me all about the likes of Liddell, St John, Shanks and Paisley etc etc etc. I was 18 at the time and I had to bring my own Werthers!! Seriously though, as I sat in the car waiting for the big man, my memory tripped back to that day my Granddad told me about Liverpool Football Club. I was only 6 and didn't have a clue what he was on about at the time. He managed to make something stick in a non-Gary Glitter way. So I said two thank you’s there and then, one to my Granddad and the other to the club for choosing me. There was a knock on the car window. It disturbed me from my flashback and that was followed by a voice that said "Open the boot yer Welsh eejit!" I thought why doesn't he sit in the front like he normally does?

Anyway here's the deal. Will had agreed to let us stay over at his place on the Monday night, as our first flight on Tuesday was at 9am from Heathrow. The 2nd was out of Frankfurt and landing in Ankara. The 3rd was from Ankara to Istanbul. 12 hours travelling including waiting around (more about that in a bit).

Happy days we were off. We make a pit stop at the garage I always stop off at whenever we're off to a Liverpool match. Not a superstitious thing more of a routine thing. That and the fact its only 500yds from Wayne’s house and I always need petrol when we're off to the match. So the drive itself was straight forward enough. Wayne played the chevron game on the M6. I still to this day do not know what the rules are and nor do I want to. It kept him from moithering me with such idiotic comments as "Do you think if we had somebody strapped to the bonnet of the car they would be cold?" (a-la Southampton away last season). We had a quick blast on the skid pan that is know as the M6 Toll. I like that road it's good fun at £3 a throw. The M42 & M40 were as you'd expect the M42 & M40 to be - motorway-ish. Anyway we end up on the M25 and get those signs flashing at us and everyone else for that matter telling us that M4 was out of action between junctions 1-3. We needed to get off at junction 3 ggrrr. No matter we bumbled our way along some ‘A’ road and got Will's at 10.30.

I needed a drink. It's thirsty work doing all that driving I can tell yis. I made the suggestion of going for a swift one at a local tavern. I thought no danger of getting too leathered here and missing the flight as we'd only be able to squeeze two in, three at most. So 1.30 am comes along and after 8 pints we stumble back to Will's. The big man sees sense and retires for the evening with a book. Will sensibly orders a taxi for 6.30am and I, well, I demand booze from Will. Now I think he'd been waiting a goddam awful long time to palm the stuff onto someone that he gave me. In fairness to him, he did have a snaffle at it himself. So we end up polishing off a bottle of Butterscotch schnapps, somewhere in the haze I remember talking to Herbie von Smalls via the forum and via my mobile. He muttered something about getting him a souvenir or something! Butterscotch emptied I demanded more fuel. I wander off to the room that big man is kipping in, as that's where Will keeps his booze stocked. I reappear with a bottle of Smirnoff. We have a quick snifter each and I check the time. 4am ish. The curtains come down on my two stages…

In the blink of an eye and several loud snores later I get a kick off Will. The kick tells me its 6.45 and the taxi is outside!! A talking leg I say to myself I must give up the booze. No time to worry about a thick head. I instantly knew where I was and what I had to do today. Quick trip to the bathroom for a wash, slash and a brush of the pearls change of grundies and socks.....mmmmm socks!! Not in that order by the way. Bag packed off we went.

Three wise men in a taxi chasing a 5th star. Yeah right! The journey consisted of very little being said especially by me. The adrenaline that had carried me through the first 20 minutes of my day had worn off. I was officially leathered. I made a point of sticking my scarf out the window and randomly waving at people in cars and pointing at my scarf. I got a good response of flashing lights and car horns. Sen is waiting for us at the airport. We get there and check in and everyone, bar me, passes through the metal detector painlessly.

I get pulled back and do the usual, empty pockets of coins, phone and keys. It goes off again. Back I go and...it goes off again. Anyway the fella makes me take my shoes off for a quick check and sends me on my merry somewhat wobbly way. Next obstacle in Krypton Factor airport assault course was the Armed Police section. They were checking for hoolies. So how Will and Sen got through I will never know?? Anyway unbeknown to me one of the coppers had seen the debacle I had with my shoes and with the guy at the metal detector.

I approach the desk all polite and talking out the corner of my mouth, that old he won't smell the booze on my breath chestnut. Not that he was bothered, he was looking for hoolies not drunkards. He checks my passport and up walks the copper who spotted my earlier trouble. Excuse me sir do you mind taking your shoes off please. Oh not again I say and duly oblige trying not to fall over. I take them off he smiles turns on heels and fecks off laughing back to where he came from. Then he came back to say he was sorry and I couldn’t even look at him. I knew if I’d have made eye contact with him I’d have had a Timmy Tourette’s moment. No harm done I pass peacefully through the hooligan checkpoint my tongue severely bitten. A quick pit-stop at the bar and three pints later we're all on the plane.

Before take we take off mentioning no names – ME! – someone was being rather loud. So much so the nice stewardess came over to try and move us. Well move me really. We were on a bank of four and she was trying to get me, for the comfort of other passengers, to move. I was having none of it. We’re not moving we’re family and family stick together. I said in best EastEnders accent. When in Rome!! I can’t really remember much after that apart from ruining Sen's crossword with really childish words like marmalade and rhubarb.

A quick pit-stop in Frankfurt and a chat with few other reds. There was time to top the booze up and have a bite to eat. We were talking at the bar to these Irish lads and I asked what flight they had come in on. They said yours. I said oh did you see us on the plane like. No we fecking heard yer though was the reply. Apparently I was reading other people's newspapers out loud. At one point I even started reading the couple's paper in front of me. Not so difficult I hear you say. The paper was in German. For the rest of the flight I again decided to snore rather loudly!

Off to Ankara after a good feed. I felt good. At Ankara purely by chance than anything else we just happened to be stood in the right place at the right time. By that I mean by the visa window. It was painless enough and no need for photocopy of the passport either. Ankara to Istanbul again not a lot happened here. Out of three flights we were on the last leg of the journey. Istanbul airport. No bags to collect straight to the rank and into a cab into town. There was only one thing faster than the taxis and was my arse after being in one.

Pot luck with hotel Wayne says. Stand up and take bow big man it served a purpose and was by no means a dump. Check-in was painless and so off we went for another dice with death - we got another taxi to Taksim Square.

Got to the square in one piece and sampled the atmosphere. The place was alive with a raw energy, banners, colours, noise, songs and people, most of all people. We all wanted a beer and there was none fecking left where we were. So a phone call or two later we're off to find some people from RAWK and Jon Hall. We walk down what I suppose was the main shopping area of Istanbul. Reds everywhere as far as the eye can see. More banners, more noise and more people.

I felt amazing, proud to be a part of it!! I was starting to tingle and game was still 24hrs away. We find Hally and the others and bouncer won't let us in. Ah well, Wayne spots a street vendor with tiny bar, a pump and keg. Happy days. In reality it was the guy from a club a few doors down. Nobody was going into his club so he brought a little bit of his club to us. We made use of the tables and before we knew where we were it was 2 in the morning and whole host of people had passed through our side alley so to speak!! AC fans to locals to fellow reds to famous tramps. There were two songs that stick out for me. Song number one “we’ll be running Turkey with s**ts!” and quickly followed by “We’ve got no Imodium!” We call it a night at about 3am and head off back to the square stopping at a kebab shop along the way. Hhhmmm kebabs. Very nice they were too.

Off back to the hotel and to retire for the evening. Well one more for the road I say. Big man retires, Sen falls asleep in the lobby and Will and I quaff a beer or two. Then it was off to bed. It took a while to get to sleep as I was like an excited kid at Christmas. I wake up from my slumber at about 12.30 ish by Sen and Will knocking on the door saying they were off to visit the mosque and some cultural places of interest. That was my cue to get up and put my glad rags on. Ticket was still safely stashed in my shoe and my shoe was safely under right leg of the bed nearest my head and the corners of the room. There was no way that ticket would have moved without me knowing about it. Wayne appears from out the bathroom and says that about 6 o’clock this morning my leg was going ten to the dozen (a bit like a dog having a scratch with his back leg so to speak) what was going on? I told him I didn’t know and that I was asleep.

Then I told him about this really bizarre dream I had which involved me riding a suitcase down a very steep hill and I had to push with my legs to get the speed up! Baffled and perplexed we went for a spot of lunch and managed to catch up with Will and Sen. Well I say catch they were in foyer of the hotel as we were about to leave. Lunch out the way it was off to the square. Now it was starting to kick in. In 9 hours I would get to see something for real that I’d only ever seen on the telly before, Liverpool in the European Cup Final. The square was buzzing. Bumped into a whole plethora of people off the site. Murphman, Matty, Vlad Jnr, Gravy, Swan Red, Andy Mag, Spike, Stevieboy2k and the Slapnuts & Cobs. The list was endless. The booze was flowing, again, the banners were all flying, again, the songs were all being sung, again. For some strange reason I had the Russ Abott version of ‘What an atmosphere’ running around my head! I don’t know either. So I drank and I drank and I drank. Wayne got a text from back home saying it was taking up to three hours to travel to the stadium. So at four o’clock we decide to move onto the stadium …not until I have a few more beers at least. So an hour later Wayne, Andy Mag and myself jump in Ozcab 5 (its an EastEnders thing) and head off to the stadium.

The road to Mecca, that’s all need be said about the journey. It looked like every vehicle had been commandeered by General Benítez and his red army. It felt like we were on some relentless quest, on into battle, with the holy grail being the prize for the victors

One mile from the stadium, out we get and walk for a while. At this point it dawns on me that I have no more beer. Straight up to the nearest person with a crate of Efes and after a short chat I walk away with a couple of cans. One for me one for Andy Mag. Wayne wanted to stay sober for the occasion to take it all in. Good for him I wanted to get a bit wobbly and Andy fancied a few beers too. We get to the enclosure and watch the entertainment. I again run out beer and locate some more after a word in a few shell-likes. Andy looks on as I talk people into parting with a beer here and beer there over the next three hours. Hey I am a people person, what can I say, I was also thirsty. Andy manages to get me the sum total of zero beers. Ah well at least the lad tried. People were climbing floodlights to plant flags. People were dancing on the portaloo roofs. People were warned to get off the stage by an irate Turkish man. “Leatherpool fans please leave the stage itz iz dangerous. The stadium is now open. Go to your seats dear Leatherpool fanz!” I knew that Will was bringing more beer with him so Andy and I decided to wait for so we could quaff a few more tins. Soon bored of waiting we decided to make a move into the stadium. At this point I bump into Molby and Mike. Molby just happens to be carrying a bottle of rum and drop of the local tipple Raki…..hhhmm ready brek glow time.

Off into to the stadium I go. Getting in was easy enough, finding my seat was simple. Watching the opening ceremony was painful. Watching the sea of red fans taking up three stands was something else. I had a lump in my throat. I wanted the game to begin and begin it did. BADLY. Ah well there had only been 1 minute on the clock. We’ll be fine I tell myself. I get to the 35th minute and think to myself I have to go for a lag. I get back from the bog and I’m about to go down the steps to my seat there is a roar. I knew even without looking that AC had scored. So I turn on my heels and think to myself I’ll get coke or something as my voice is a bit hoarse from shouting and singing. After all it’s the 38th minute. It's going to be 2-0 at half time. Rafa will pick the troops up and send them back into battle. 5 minutes into queuing for a drink another one goes in.

I’m still not shell-shocked. Something to do with the booze I think to myself. I spot Shaun (Carl Oakfield Red's brother) at half time and have a chat with him. He and I help ourselves to Cokes from behind the counter as all the staff were being harassed at the other end by people wanting burgers!! So it finally dawns on me as I try to speak to someone else about the situation we are in that we are 3-0 down. Shaun goes back to his seat and I look a bit bewildered at the big screen with the score on it. Then what happens next is like a vision albeit a rather disturbing one. Through the smoke off the hot plate of burgers I see Anny Road talking into a mobile. I bumble over for a word. He finishes on his call and says defiantly Jonesy lad there is only one thing to do in the second half that’s go back to your seat and sing yer head off and that goes for everyone else an all!! SING THE LOT OF YER.

So there is about ten minutes before kick off and I go over to where Anny Road is sat, he’s there with RP and and Andy Mac. I’d seen Andy Mac earlier, he ended up stood next to me just before kick off. I didn’t know who he was at first. I don’t think he knew who he was to be honest. A quick chat with them and it was back to my seat for the singing. YNWA for what felt like eternity OK in reality about 5 minutes which was nice, very loud and very proud. The second half kicks off and nine minutes pass. I don’t really need to mention the subs etc we know what happened there – first half and second. Riise crosses into the box and I think that looks like something Morientes would do. I am of course referring to the salmon that is Stevie G. GOAL YEE HAA MOFO. Ah at least we’ve got one. I barely have time to blink and second one is in. OH MY GOD THIS COULD HAPPEN. I have to do a double take and rerun the goal in my head. Yes you drunken bum it was Vlad who scored. Another hearty YEE HAA is let out of lungs. The dust settles and up pops Xabi to take a penalty thanks to work through the middle by Mr Salmon, special mention to Slapnuts who laid the ball off for him, and the rest is history. I don’t care that Dida saved it. Xabi was in the right place at the right time. Truthfully the rest is a blur apart from Carragher with cramp and Dudek with Kenny Everett's brotherly love hands with two minutes to go.

So it was to be decided on penalties. Something told me that it was going to be our night. Oh that’s right I forgot I went to see Mystic Anny Road again at full time. He said we are going to win this on penalties. I went to see him at the end of extra time, not a lot was said other than see you in about ten minutes when we are champions. Dudek has an effect on the 1st …it goes over the bar. Didi gets our 1st. Dudek saves the 2nd. Cissé scores ours. They get their third and fourth. Riise has his saved and Vlad gets his. Now I must admit here due to combination of booze, adrenaline, nerves and downright stupidity I couldn't for the life of me remember how many penalties there had been. So as I’m busy trying to focus on the score board and count with one eye and the other eye on Shevchenko and Dudek I haven’t got a Scooby what’s going on. I decide to stop looking at the scoreboard and focus on Dudek. Up Shevchenko steps and up he misses. There seemed to be an absolute age before the roar erupted and even then I hadn’t joined in. In my mind we still had a penalty to take. How wrong was I? When it sank in it was like my head had exploded and imploded at the same time. My brain was awash with pure energy of ecstatic proportions. What a rush. I had a quick chat to people I was stood next and then wandered off to see Mystic Road, RP and Andy Mac. We all carried on singing and watched players take big ears round on a lap of honour.

Off out the ground back off to find the others. Will, Sen & Wayne. Somehow we all managed to get on a bus back into town that was taking forever. I didn’t care. I thought RP was ill at one point. Then I realised that he was just in awe of what he, what we all, had just witnessed. He stood there on the bus next to one of the windows up that slides open with a big grin on his face. Mystic Road was belting out the anthems which made the journey all the more bearable. After about two hours we were back at the hotel. A few beers purely for medicinal purposes. Then it was off to the airport and home.

All three airports were a blur on the way back. I just remember Frankfurt and the hunt for as many broadsheets and red tops we could get our hands on. I must have read them over and over and over again. It still hadn’t sunk in. Luckily for us our flight had a technical problem so it won't be leaving Frankfurt. By lucky I mean we end up on a flight to Heathrow instead. Get back to Will's about 730ish on Thursday night and I begin the weirdest car drive of my life. It was down to a combination of many factors, sleep deprivation being the main one. At one point on the M6 I though Harvey the rabbit was with me. Anyway several large coffees later Wayne and I had made it back safe and sound to Chorlton. I drop him and then I drop myself off. I go into work the following morning and my boss takes one look at me and says do you want the number of The Priory. I say only if they’ll deliver.

Jonesy 22/06/05

P.S RP you were right about jotting it down.