Utter Shock

I've been a massive Liverpool FC fan since just before I turned 11 in 1979. Thirty-six years later I can still name the players in the teams that won trophy after trophy over the following decade. I've followed their highs and lows ever since then. I've never got to England to watch them play so when they announced that they were coming to Australia in 2013 for a pre-season tour I knew I had to get to Melbourne to join in the mass adoration of the "Mighty Reds".

Although tickets sold out within minutes of coming on sale for the 95000 capacity Melbourne Cricket Ground, I managed to get two good tickets for myself and my son though a travel agent. We ditched the hotel accommodation that came with the agent's package and booked into the Hilton which was within walking distance of the ground. When we arrived at the hotel at around 11.30 on the night before the game, we were excited to see Reds supporters everywhere. Our excitement did not abate for the next 48 hours.

We travelled by tram into the city centre the next morning and even by 8.30 the place was a sea of red. Not an AFL jersey to be seen. AFL is the predominant sports code in the southern part of Australia and is referred to as "football" by the locals although it's hard to understand why when the hand is used on the ball more often than the foot. Same thing goes with rugby league (popular in northern Australia and just a couple of other places in the world) and grid iron. If anyone feels the need to try to explain this to me, really, don't worry. There really is only one Football. The Beautiful Game. The World Game that is. But enough of my soap-boxing.

In all, the time down in Melbourne was just superb. To be able to share it with my son made it possibly the best couple of days of my life. Both of us were struck with the passion of the fans around the city. At one point mid-afternoon we were on the tram heading back to the hotel and passed a Red crowd filling a large courtyard surrounded by shops and eateries. The singing and chanting emanating from that area drew us to leave the tram at the next stop and walk back to it. We found ourselves packed in with greater than a thousand others chanting and singing about our heroes past and present with much passion and humour.

I found it was great to be able to easily strike up a conversation with someone you'd never met before and discuss our mutual interest. I found myself talking to people from all over Australia who, like me, had travelled long distances to get there and share in the moment.

The match itself was unforgettable. While the normal fluency of play wasn't there (it was just early pre-season where fitness levels are still the main focus) everything else about the night was just so memorable. Thousands of us marched from the city centre out to the ground, singing and chanting the whole way. After taking our seats in the ground it was amazing to take in what we were seeing. Of the 95,000 attending there was a small area reserved for the Melbourne Victory (the opposition team) fans. While I'm not much good at estimating, I'd be surprised if there were even 5,000 in the navy blue of the local side. The other ninety-odd thousand in the stadium were in red. Wonderful to see.

Then after the players came out and were introduced to us with loud cheers for each of them, the loudspeakers started the club's iconic anthem "You'll Never Walk Alone" and the stadium stood as one to sing along. My boy and I held aloft my club scarf, and I sang my lungs out. First time I was ever able to sing to My Team. Even at 45 years on that night I can admit that there was a tear in my eye. To this day that rendition of the anthem is spoken of with fondness by people at the club and has been watched over and over again on YouTube. Although the team has played in front of slightly larger crowds containing two sets of fans at FA Cup and European Cup finals, I believe this was the largest number of Liverpool fans they have ever played in front of.

All too soon though the match and wonderful night were over, and we flew back to home in the north of Australia the next day vowing that if they were to come down under again there would be no way we would miss it.

Fast forward two years and it was announced that the Reds were on their way back to us. Elation. Then dismay. They would be playing at the end of the first week after school returned from its mid-year break. Normally that wouldn't be a problem but by now my lad was in his final year at high school and his mother insisted that he really couldn't miss classes at that stage of his schooling. I felt bad to do it but I gently suggested that I would still go even though I would have far rather him be with me.

Eventually I was given permission from my son to do this even though, understandably, he wasn't too happy with missing out. I got my ticket to the match in Brisbane when they came available and before I knew it I was off the see My Team again. I had decided to get down there earlier in the week and arrived on the Tuesday evening even though the match was on the Friday night. I determined that I would get down there earlier so as not to miss any of the build-up to the match around the city.

Once again I booked into a Hilton hotel which is found in Brisbane's city centre. I got a very comfortable room with a king-size bed and big bathroom. Very nice.

DAY ONE - WEDNESDAY

The next morning as I was going down in the lift to head out into the city, I was joined by a woman who got in and struck up a short conversation with me. As I was wearing a coat that identified me as a Liverpool fan she asked if I was there to stalk the team. I said I assumed she was guessing that the team was staying at the hotel also and she assured me that they were arriving to stay there at 3.00pm that afternoon. Wow. Up close with the boys and maybe even some of the club legends that travelled with them. If nothing else, I might be able to get a few autographs or photos with some of the players to take back to my lad. Sure enough, just after three, the whole entourage started rolling through reception and heading up to their rooms. Even a 47-year-old was a bit thrilled to be this close to the Mighty Reds.

DAY TWO - THURSDAY

I ate in my room that night and the next morning walked down to King George Square where large marquees had been set up for a merchandise shop and a stage for presenting players to the public. As I stood around in the large crowd waiting for the merchandise stall to open, I had conversations with various other supporters who I found were from both Australia and overseas.

At one point I was talking to a couple of lads in their early twenties from Sydney when we were joined by a young girl who I again estimated to be somewhere in her early twenties. After asking us where we were from, she confirmed, as we could tell from her accent, that she was English and lived just outside of London with her mother. Her father lived in Liverpool and that was how she had become a fan. She said that, disappointingly, she had rarely ever got to their games; living where she did and also due to the fact that tickets were so hard to get a hold of. Liverpool's ground, Anfield, only holds just over 45,000 and the club could easily sell twice that many tickets for every game.

She told us that she was backpacking and was due to head back to England two days after the match. She said it was just a fortunate coincidence that the club were playing on the Friday night as she had booked her return ticket some months previously.

As I stood there talking to her, I found that I was talking to a lovely girl with a small, pleasant face. Straight, light brown, medium-length hair framed her face and aside from her being fairly short I couldn't tell much else about her features. It was quite cold standing around in the square and we were all rugged up in jeans, thick coats and the obligatory supporter's scarf wrapped around our necks. After a while I realized that she and I were the only ones conversing with the two Sydney boys standing back and just listening on. I guess I didn't mind too much because she really was pleasant to talk to (and look at). Before she moved on, she asked for a photo, so we all moved together in the typical selfie pose with the boys well in the background and her and I in the front. As she was taking the photo, she'd put her arm around my waist and I thought "Well, that feels nice. If only I was 20 years younger!"

When she moved on to another group I turned to the boys and kidded them for leaving me to hold up one end of the conversation. I said I was sure she would have rather been talking with them than the 'old guy' in the group but they both said they had girlfriends back home. One of them asked if I knew how much trouble they'd be in if that innocent picture ended up on social media with the caption that she'd been chatted up by a couple of locals. They didn't want to have to go through the third degree if that scenario ever arose. I laughed and joked saying that it might be just as well I was divorced then. They looked at me grinning with an expression told me "You know you could never successfully chat up a young lovely like her." and after a little more conversation we eventually parted ways.

Later in the day after having lunch down the street I returned to the hotel with the intention of having an hour's rest in my nice comfy bed. When I got to the street entry of the hotel, I found a large crowd had gathered outside who were held back behind barricades to allow the team to get on buses that were waiting to take them to training or some publicity event. I figured I would put off my snooze for a while and walked around the crowd and up into the hotel. I was then undecided whether to wait in the bar near the reception area and see who walked past or join with the fans outside. Eventually I decided to join with the crowd, so I headed back down and moved outside the barriers.

As I moved into place to try and get a view of the players when they began coming out, I found to my astonishment that moving in beside me was the pretty girl from England I had met that morning. She looked up at me grinning and asked, "Did I just see you going in and out of the hotel?". I told her that it was and explained that although I didn't know the team was staying there at the time of booking, I was now pretty thrilled that I had chosen to stay there. I told her that there were players going past everywhere and you often ended up in a lift with one of the guys. She told me she was extremely jealous and wished that she could get a photo with even just one of the team.

After thinking it over for a minute I asked her if she'd wanted to go in and see if she could catch someone going past. She looked at me with a somewhat dubious expression and said she didn't think she would be allowed into the hotel. She had observed security staff checking people wanting to go into the hotel for evidence that they were staying there. I told her "Well that is true, but with one of these -" as I held up my room key, "you won't have a problem there."

I said that security allow fans to go in when you show your room card. She still looked at me questioningly, so I went on "You know, I'm not so silly as to be hitting on you here. I'm just trying to help out a fellow Red." To keep things light I immediately followed up with "Quite a pretty fellow Red, mind you." for which I received a jab in the ribs.

I looked down at her. She looked up at me and said "Yep, let's do it." She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the crowd and around the barricade. We walked toward the front doors where I flashed my room key to the hired security guy. He let us pass without a second look and we headed up in the lift to the bar / cafe off the reception area.

We sat at a table next to each other so that we could see anyone getting off the lifts from the upper floors. I ordered drinks for both of us when the waiter came around and we sipped them and made small talk while we waited for someone to appear. As she talked, she occasionally touched my arm or leg which I guess I found somewhat exciting. Yes, she was way out of my league, but, sadly, in the seven years since my divorce this was just about the most intimate contact I'd had with anyone of the opposite sex.

After talking about prospects for the next season for five minutes she suddenly changed topic and said, "Why do you think it would be silly to hit on me?" I was taking a swig of my drink at that moment and just about coughed it straight back up again. I looked at her questioningly and she just said, "Well why?"

I was momentarily silent as I tried to formulate a reply that addressed our relative ages and that I understood my station in life as a forty-seven-year-old guy who had thinning hair and although slim, had no great physique to speak of. I think, at the same time, running through my head was the question "Why on earth would she be asking me this?" Just as I was about to try and give a response I was saved from my embarrassment and confusion by the appearance of a half a dozen players descending in the glass lift which included the newly appointed team captain, Jordan Henderson.

After pointing them out to my new friend she immediately leapt to her feet, leaving behind her bulky coat and scarf which she had removed as we sat waiting. She had grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the players as they exited the lift. She let go of my hand and handed me her mobile phone before making a beeline for Hendo. As I watched her walk away then stop to round up her quarry, I was able to get a far better appreciation for this girl's figure. Although short in stature at only about 5'3" she obviously packed a great body into that small package. Her legs seemed long on her body with a slim waist above which were found probably about large B-cup tits in a form fitting Liverpool tee shirt. Altogether one hot looking girl!

Eventually I broke out of the momentary spell her appearance had cast on me and realized she was waiting with Jordan to be photographed. I snapped a couple of photos and thanked the captain for his time. My friend spoke up immediately saying that I should get a photo also, so I quickly handed over my phone to her and smiled along with the Reds captain. Once again, we thanked him and let him move off to catch up with his teammates.

My new friend was almost beside herself with happiness as we returned to our seat. After watching the rest of the team go by, she was still smiling enough to nearly split her face. Eventually after things quietened down in the hotel, she looked at me and said "Well, what should we do now?" I really wasn't sure what she meant by that as I assumed she would just want to go on her way and meet up with her friends or other fans who were closer to her age but as I was enjoying her company, I suggested we could go out and get a little afternoon tea.

She seemed to smile shyly at that suggestion and said that that would be nice. As we rose to leave, I realized I had the need for a bathroom stop so I asked her if she'd mind waiting while I went up to my room for a moment. She looked at me and said "Any chance I could come with you? I've never seen a Hilton Hotel room". I thought her request was innocent enough so after just a moment's hesitation I said "Sure." We hopped into the glass lift and rose quickly toward the 24th floor. She gripped my arm tightly as she moved to the glass to look down at where we had come from. It was a closeness that once again I was confused about but found I really didn't mind at all.

Quickly we reached my floor and walked to my room. On letting her enter before me she let out a "Wow!" as she looked about. Really, it wasn't anything that great - just a good-sized room with a big bed, nice big glass-topped desk on which I had sat my laptop, a wide screen TV and a couple of leather lounge chairs, one a single and the other a double. As I said, nothing really flash, but I suppose in comparison to the average backpacker accommodation it looked more than a little luxurious.

As I stood looking at her, she sat on the end of the bed in the middle and laid back, extending her arms out from her sides. She let out an "Ooh!" as she appeared to be luxuriating in the softness she found there. After a moment she closed her eyes and I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came back out, she was still laying there but opened her eyes as I walked past the bed. She started thanking me again for getting her into the hotel so that she could get so close to the players. As she spoke it didn't appear that she was soon going to get up, so I sat on the side of the bed at the top and leaned back against the headboard.

For almost a quarter of an hour we continued to chat, and I found out more about her life at home where she had almost finished her teaching degree with only one semester to go and would do so on her return. She revealed that she had only had one longer term boyfriend. They had dated for three years from just after she turned nineteen. The guy had turned thirty not long before they had broken up which happened a few months before she travelled to Australia. A quick bit of mental arithmetic confirmed my estimation that she was now around 23 years old. She went on to reveal that the last couple of years of the relationship hadn't been pleasant as he was quite domineering and controlling of everything she did outside of her time at uni.

As we spoke, she had turned onto her side and swivelled a little on the bed so that she could now look up at me from where she lay. Eventually there was a slight lull in the conversation as she continued to look at me. She then grinned at me and said, "You didn't answer my question." I was momentarily confused as she hadn't just asked me anything until I realized she was back on the 'hitting on her' subject. I started to try to mumble a reply before she suddenly started again and said, "It's not because of the difference in our ages, is it?"

I looked at her and couldn't help but grin back as I said that that probably had a lot to do with it. She said she thought that was a bit silly. She said older people and younger people get together all the time to which I replied that it may be the case, but I would imagine that, more often than not, an attempt to hit on a beautiful young woman by an old man would be unwelcome. She seemed to suddenly grin and blush when I used the phrase 'beautiful young woman' but quickly regained her composure and agreed with my point except to tell me that I wasn't an 'old man' and then went quiet for a while. She had turned her head toward the room's large window and seemed lost in thought as she appeared to gaze out on the cityscape beyond.

Eventually she stood and came to stand over me as I continued to sit. As she leant down toward me, grinning, she said "Well, I wouldn't have been offended if you had been hitting on me." She then placed the softest of kisses on my cheek as I sat there somewhat stunned. On standing upright she said "Well, time for that afternoon tea, isn't it?" as she smiled and offered her hand to help me stand on my slightly shaky legs.

As we went to walk out the door she asked if it would be OK if she left her backpack in the room. She said her back was a bit sore and could do without lugging it around for a while. I said "Sure. No problem."

We headed down into the Queen Street Mall (a couple of blocks of Queen Street which is open to pedestrian traffic only) and found a quiet coffee shop. I bought us both cups of tea and we shared a slice of carrot cake. I kept glancing around expecting to see disdainful looks from people observing the much older guy with the young woman. When after a while I had seen no such looks, I realized that everyone probably assumed that I was a dad with his daughter. This thought helped me to relax more and just enjoy the company I had.