There is something good about a loss, perhaps the only good: you end up realizing how good it were as long as it lasted. The road to glory, to be crowned the champions of Europe again has ended, but the will to hold on? Well, it never ceases, and it never will for I am a Liverpool FC fan. Although, there were a few hiccups initially, I was well assured that fortress ‘Anfield’ would sink any opposition, no matter how mighty and how well equipped they were, but then the script that destiny had written had something else in store.
The last couple of years had been beautiful, perhaps the best of times to be a Liverpool FC fan, the team had been playing like a dream, making us dream: of glory, of silverware and of hope. They said it was ‘heavy metal football’, to me it was more than fierce counterattacks and gegenpressing: it were an antidepressant; back from a tiring day at work, after the hectic weekdays, all that I craved for was my team to be back on the pitch, I didn’t mind being awake late at night as the games were being played, I was living the best times of my life: each pass, each dribble and every shot the team took catapulted me into a realm which had ceased by the ‘Slip’ of 2014. To me, it wasn’t just football, it was life, and a therapy: it made me go berserk, made me cry, made me smile and above all else it made me happy.
The night now seems long, and the dark clouds are hovering over my head all over again; is it the end of the dream? Is the magic spell over? I hadn’t felt so gutted for long, as if there is no purpose left at all, nothing to lose sleep over, nothing to look forward to, an existential crisis looming large. This is what football does to you, if at all you have given your heart to a team; it is only then you’ll feel and realize this surge of hopelessness and expectation within; all at the same time. The tears you shed makes no sense, for you can’t take the field on the eleven’s behalf; but this despair? Well, if it isn’t love, what else is it? I will be missing the European nights for year; I will miss the urge to stay awake over numerous cups of black coffee and cigarettes, and I will be missing the adrenaline rush within which would make me shriek, shout and yell out of joy: I will be missing it all. This feels as if I have lost out too, not on points and not on silverware and glory, but in life; a dash of hope which my team had sprinkled on my fate, it suddenly seems to be missing. This is life, this is love and this is football, the beautiful game, and like most beautiful things in life, it can hurt you bad too.
As, I now look back, I know to myself that I would be deprived of watching my team chasing European glory this time, something I had gotten used to; but then there’s always a silver lining to the dark clouds: the league isn’t over, We are the Champions elect; the trophy that eluded us for over thirty years is bound to return to the place where it’ll be admired and cherished the most. I talk to my fellow Kopites; they pull me up; for there remains a lot to look forward to: more of Mane’s nutmegs and dribbles and Salah’s left foot magic. It was just a loss, not a defeat; something which by now is ingrained in me as a Liverpool FC fan, we can lose out on anything in life but never on hope.
They will, I will, and We will… For, none of us will ever walk alone
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And, you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone…
abhishek purkayastha 