In the end what happened was what everybody thought would happen - Liverpool would win but so would City, though that only tells part of the story of one of the most exciting final days in Premier League history.
The dream of being at Anfield to see us win the title began last Monday evening when I got a text out of the blue offering me a ticket. A former work colleague and long time fan card holder had been planning to go to the final game of the season with his son, who now lives in Canada but their plans changed when they got FA Cup Final tickets so he came over for that instead. I quickly looked for flights to see what was cheap. Belfast to Liverpool or Manchester was over £300 return, Dublin to Liverpool the same. Dublin - Manchester was about £200 if I got the 06.30 flight and the 22.05 home. I even contemplated flying to Leeds and renting a car but it was too much hassle. Next, I had to get permission to go as I'm also going to Paris on Saturday for the Champions League Final but I have a very supportive and understanding wife who told me to go. I text my friend back and told him I'd take it, booked the early and late flight going Dublin Manchester then realised Liverpool still had to beat Southampton the next night or the final day would be nothing more than a dead rubber for us while City could celebrate winning the league without kicking a ball. We managed to get past Southampton while resting most of our first team for Sunday and Paris. On Saturday, I went walking in the Mourne Mountains and went over on my ankle a bit which wasn't good knowing the amount of walking I had to do the next day. The plan was that the hiking would leave me tired enough that I would go to bed early ahead of getting up before the dawn. It worked. I was in bed at 9, asleep before 10 and before long the alarm was going off at 3am.
The journey from Lisburn to Dublin Airport is all motorway or dual carriageway and takes about an hour and a half. It's great going when you're fresh but it's a long boring road on the way home when you're tired after a busy day. It's a well worn track for me since 2012 when I had a season ticket and was going over regularly. I'd tea and a pancake in the car on the way down then left the car at the Red Car Park and realised the airport was going to be busy when I was directed away down to Y and Z areas. A bus goes from there and as we went past Terminal 2, I could see the long security lines. I hoped it wouldn't be as bad at T1. It was worse, the queue was out the door. It was now almost 5am so I had to negotiate this and get to the far end of the terminal by 05.50 as Ryanair had warned me the gate would be closing then. One thing I've learnt from travelling over and back all these years is do not underestimate how ruthless Ryanair can be. The queue inside was nearly the length of the check in floor but the airport authorities had clearly been expecting this and had a system in place with the cordons so that passengers went up a line then down a line. It didn't feel like it at the time but we moved really quick, though, when I got to electronic gates to check in with my boarding pass there was a big 40 minute sign on a screen for getting through security but looking back I think that was for the first bit in the rat run. Worst bit over. I was expecting hassle over my banner which I had made for Paris but thought I'd make its' debut at Anfield first - "One Day Like This A Year Will See Me Right" a lyric from an Elbow song. Getting to see Liverpool once a year would more than satisfy me but also if we won the league...
The plane was mostly Liverpool, some City and a couple of Burnley fans. We arrived in Manchester on time I think although there was no Ryanair fanfare on the plane to alert us to this. Once off the plane it's a 10-15 min walk from the terminal to The Station where the trains and buses go from. I was getting a National Express bus at 9.05 so I had an hour to kill in Cafe Nero. I overheard a few Irish Liverpool fans talking about CL Final tickets and I asked them if they knew of any going spare but they were part of a club and were talking about their own allocation.
Rehydrated I got the bus from Manchester Airport to Liverpool One which was only an hour and cost 12 quid return. It has electric sockets for charging phones and laptops too. As we approached Liverpool, I imagined what it might be like if we won the league today. I'd been there for a great european night, surely this would be on a different scale. In Liverpool my first thought was food so I checked Trip Advisor for the best breakfast and it recommended Dale St Kitchen. Google Maps is great but I can never get the hang of it when I'm using it for walking so some time and energy was wasted trying to find the place and then when I finally got there I had to stand outside for about 20 minutes which is usually the sign of a good eatery. When I eventually sat down to eat, the full breakfast was well worth the wait. Afterwards I still had a few hours until I met my friend John at Anfield so I went to the cinema to see Dr. Strange but I was really only there for a snooze. This was something I did a few times when I previously went to games on my own that had a 4pm kick off. Cinemas are practically empty in the morning. I used to get the soccerbus from down below Lime St but when I was going for breakfast I noticed a black taxi rank beside Williamson Square so I went back there at about 1.30 to head for Anfield. I got in with a fan going to the game who sounded South African and 3 Irish people - one of them had a ticket the other 2 were going to the supporters club near the Cabbage Hall Hotel (a landmark I'd never heard of). We talked about what might happen in the game on the way up and agreed that all the pressure was on City so we could relax and enjoy it. I asked what if Villa go 2 up, will we still be relaxed then? We laughed it off. It would never happen. One of the Irish guys very generously got the taxi fare and told us to enjoy the game. The South African lad pointed me in the direction of Anfield and it was off to the game we go. It was about 2pm and I arranged to meet John at the club shop in front of The Kop at about 2.30pm because I wanted to go and see the bus welcome. There was a huge crowd on the Anfield Road that continued to grow over the next half hour. The police presence grew as well. Songs were sung, flares were lit, the new Ian Rush mural in the background. John text me to say he was over there too and we met briefly before he walked on over to leave a package at the foodbank. I was stood at a thoroughfare that led directly to the steps at the back of the main stand. As I stood there, Ian Ayre ("any tickets for Paris, Ian?"), Phil Thompson, Andy Townsend and John Wark walked past me on their way into the ground. Wark seemed to be taken aback by the number of fans waiting to cheer the players into the stadium. If he had've waited a few minutes more he would have seen this recent tradition in all it's glory.
I met John at the shop and he showed me a collage under the Wall Of Champions (I wondered if we would be adding to it later that day) which created a picture of various captains and managers with trophies, made up of thousands of little pictures of fans. One of them was of him and his son. We made our way into the stadium, not without a few problems scanning the ticket on my phone, finally realising I had to put my full phone into the slot for it to read the bar code. Our seats were in the L10 area of the main stand right beside the Kop. I was looking for somewhere to hang my banner but there wasn't anywhere. One of the Crowd Stewards went looking for a Head Steward with me to ask him if there was anywhere but we couldn't find one, John and I chatted for a while about the world and the possibility of Liverpool winning the league. We agreed it was unlikely but you never know.
Within what seemed no time at all the stadium filled to capacity, the players had completed their warm ups and were out on the pitch ready to play their part in the final day of the season. Anfield erupted with singing - YNWA, We've conquered all the world, Fields of Anfield Road - the songs just kept coming one after another all day. The game kicked off. We needed to win and hope for the best. It was all very relaxed, maybe too relaxed when Konate misjudged a long hopeful ball down our left, it went over his head and allowed Raul Jimenez in behind him to cross for Neto to score within the first few minutes. Of all the scenarios I'd imagined, this wasn't one of them. We had started going behind in games recently but had always come back to win so I wasn't worried. Although when Wolves almost made it 2 nil from a similar move on the other side, I knew we had to start playing a lot better. Sadio Mane has been integral to the run we've been on since February. His goals helped us back into the title race and got us to the two finals we won at Wembley not to mention the road to Paris in the Champions League. So it was no great shock that it was the Senegalese who ran through from Thiago's back heel to bring us level. The little Spanish Maestro was starting to get into his stride when he went off injured and looks a big doubt for Paris now. By this stage though, the thoughts of Paris were replaced by thoughts of what was going on at the Etihad as the crowd crackled with noise like turning the dial on an AM radio until a radio station reveals itself. Villa were one nil up. Matty Cash - I heard someone say. My first thought was did I have him in my fantasy football team, of course not, there was no way Villa players were getting any points in that today but it was true. The noise around Anfield was incredible as the news spread like wildfire. It transmitted to the players on the pitch who started running, chasing and harrying even faster than before. Villa were winning one nil at half time and it was 1-1 at Anfield. I still wasn't getting carried away. There was a very long way to go. We'd been here before when Brighton scored against City and Liverpool were very briefly champions only for City to score and score again to end those dreams. Half time. Myself and John were still very calm but all that would change in the second period.
Milner came on for Thiago and Liverpool needed to score. We thought we had it when Mane slotted home Jota's flick but it was given offside. This was my first game at Anfield in three and a half years and my first experience of VAR while watching the game live. I think the players knew what was coming because as they celebrated they all kept looking at the linesman below us and he eventually put his flag up, the goal was ruled out. My phone and watch had been vibrating and beeping all day in my pocket but I never bothered looking at it. Next thing that crackle fizzed through the crowd again culminating in an almighty roar, Villa were 2 nil up. I didn't know who scored, I didn't care (I later saw it was a brilliant goal by Coutinho). Stevie Gerrards name was sung around Anfield again, I looked at John and everybody around us going crazy. Could this really happen? It certainly seemed like it, only, we were still drawing. It didn't matter what happened at the Etihad if we didn't win. If anything it looked like Wolves might get the next goal. Konate has been absolutely brilliant for us all season but Raul Jimenez roasted him all day. He beat him in the air, on the ground, physically and for pace - I couldn't believe what I was watching at times. As we pushed more and more for the goal, Konate was left one on one with Jimenez. He left Konate for dust in the second half but Alisson came out and made the save, getting a kick for his trouble. We were so close to winning the league but we had to find a goal. Were we going to lose the league even though Man City got beat? The noise, singing and encouragement from the stands was exactly what you would expect from an Anfield hungry for glory but it was more than I've experienced before. Someone behind me was pleading with every player in red who touched the ball to be our hero and get the goal we so desperately needed. I noticed my heart was now beating rapidly, I half expected my phone to inform me I was having a heart attack. Then vibrations and beeps started going again in my pocket. Phones were being looked at all around me. City had pulled one back. Shortly after it was 2-2 then 3-2 and just like that it appeared to be over. Anfield deflated, the Wolves fans, who I hadn't heard from since they scored, suddenly got some air time - you nearly won the league, they sang. Mo Salah shut them up when he finally made it 2-1 and then there was hope again when that now familiar crackle got loud again. 3-3? Was it? Somebody behind us seemed to confirm that it was. "Danny Ings" someone said. The guy in front of me asked was it true, I told him it must be as every other time today it had been. The red fans were celebrating again and for several minutes I thought we were winning it. A guy in front of us was on the phone trying to get confirmation as the internet was so slow with so many in one place trying to access it - "who scored again really quickly? who?" It was bedlam. The Wolves fans seemed unsure as well because they went quiet too. Is this really happening? I looked at John, he checked his phone and shook his head. It was still 3-2. The Wolves fans started singing again - you nearly won the league and God Save The Queen which was probably the first time that was sung in Liverpool for a long time. The game petered out but there was still time for the excellent Andy Robertson to finish a brilliant move down the left when he fed Firmino on the overlap and continued his run to the corner of the 6 yard box to finish Bobbys first time pass back to him across the keeper and into the net. There was to be no more news from the Etihad. It was over. City had won.
There was dejection all around. Trent couldn't look at The Kop, he stared down towards the Wolves fans. Andy Robertson was the first to come over and applaud then Jordan Henderson. After that they disappeared inside. The shouts went up for Divock Origi and the day became about an Anfield send off for the greatest super sub since the original super sub David Fairclough. Origi hadn't made the bench for the game, it turned out through injury. The cheers went up again, the players, manager, owners and staff re-emerged and formed a guard of honour for the Belgian. A presentation was made and then it looked like Origi walked off again "Thanks very much. See ya". As thoughts turned to the Champions League Final the fans sang - we'll be running round Paris with the cup - and at that point I had to go and get the 19.30 National Express to Manchester Airport at Liverpool One. It's 4.73km from Anfield to the bus.It took me 55 mins to walk those 4.73 km. Once on the bus I got a look at how social media had reacted and as so often, it wasn't pretty. The reality was quite different. I arrived at Manchester Airport and jogged to the terminal as it was an hour and a half until flight time. Security wasn't out the door which was a bonus and was actually quite light. There were a few happy city fans already in the queue but then more and more arrived with smiles as wide as their team made the pitch for opposing teams. There was some laughing and eyeballing but there was very little said, in fairness. It was City's day and they deserved to celebrate. I was, however, surprised how many of them there were. When I was growing up in a town of 20 odd thousand I saw one City fan in his shirt usually going to watch them try and win promotion. There were city fans from 5 years old to 75 years old on our plane home. I got talking to an older man who had lived in Manchester since the 60's at a time when people went to watch City at home one week and United at home the next. We quizzed each other about what happened in the respective games and got a fuller picture of how the day unfolded. Bringing on Zinchenko won it for City he said. Another fan with this man told me we would win the Champions League on Saturday, I told him I hoped he was right and congratulated him on the league. While we were talking about what we had or hadn't won, the two poor Burnley fans from the morning flight appeared looking at a season back in The Championship. The flight was due to leave at 22.05 but didn't arrive until well after that and eventually took off about 23.00 arriving in Dublin after 23.30. I spoke to another city fan on the walk to passport control, I asked him if today was better than the Aguero moment and he said no but it was close. There were two teams who could have won the league at the start of the day and not to try and hijack City's success in any way but it takes two teams to make a title race and this one went to the wire. The devastation felt at Anfield was ecstatic joy at the Etihad. By the time I had got through passport control and was walking out to get the bus back to the Red Car Park, I had walked almost 20km that day with a few hundred yards still to go when I got off the bus. As it pulled up I was at the front with a couple of City fans. They said - After you you've already been second once today. I replied that they were first and they went ahead. I spoke to one of them on the bus before I got off at the Y car park and he had travelled over and back the same day as well. All Irish football fans together, following English teams because they give us days like this. I got home at 2am full of m&ms bought in duty free to keep me going. I sat down with something to eat and watched Match Of The Day to see exactly how the day had unfolded for both teams then went to bed just before three, 24 hours after I'd got out of it. These are days and there's another one still to go in Paris on Saturday, oh and I still need a ticket if you can get me one.

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