It’s a dark day in the life of all Liverpool fans today. Darker than night. Darker than the mind of a paedophile. Darker than carbon nanotube carpet. Darker, more painful and more distressing than the black hole of Calcutta. When those 123 prisoners of war suffocated in the blistering heat and cramped conditions, they could not have felt as persecuted as us great fans do now. The greatest fans to ever walk God’s green earth.
Persecuted by modern football.
I feel as if the rug has been pulled from under me today. A rug that was once fixed firmly to the ground supporting my hopes and dreams - and allowing me to wipe my feet clean of all the hate and bias thrown at our great club by the media and fraudulent officials. Keeping my feet on the ground - keeping all of our feet on the ground because we are the most realistic, self-effacing, down to earth fans in the history of world football.
As the realisation hits that Nando may sign for Chelsea. I’m sat with LFCtv on, constantly refreshing the page on the official site. I have Sky Sports news on in the kitchen and I’ve set up the laptop so I can keep an eye on the BBC transfer ticker. On my iphone I’ve got the Echo website and on my desktop I’ve got RAWK (of course). I’ve borrowed my brother’s Nokia N900 and I’m eagerly checking Goal.com for news and I’m following twitter on my sister’s notebook. I’m getting any Facebook updates on me mam’s Nokia N97.
Waiting........ Desperate for news. Desperate for closure. Desperate to move on from the torture of this desolate limbo.
I can’t do anything else but wait. My 3 year old son is lying on the settee choking. He’s got cystic fibrosis and urgently needs a lung massage to remove the mucus caused by his decreased mucociliary clearance. But I myself am choking. Choking on the idea that our hero, our talisman, the one we thought was one of us, will leave us and take the 30 pieces of silver offered by a smaller club.
So my son will have to struggle to breathe a little longer - until the answers come.
Can you hear my son Fernando?
I remember long ago another painful night like this
When Rafa left Fernando
He was choking and confused as I was glued to Sky Sports news
I can hear him struggle for air
As sounds of your departure are echoing all around
And now you’re going Fernando
Every hour every minute seems to last eternally
I am so afraid Fernando
My son is young and full of life and I’m prepared to let him die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The news that you might leave has almost made me cry
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Now he’s still and grey Fernando
And all day now I haven't seen a biro in your hand
Put us out of our pain Fernando?
Release us from this misery and let him live again?
I can see it in your eyes
You want to change your mind and stay close to the King.
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Persecuted by modern football.
I feel as if the rug has been pulled from under me today. A rug that was once fixed firmly to the ground supporting my hopes and dreams - and allowing me to wipe my feet clean of all the hate and bias thrown at our great club by the media and fraudulent officials. Keeping my feet on the ground - keeping all of our feet on the ground because we are the most realistic, self-effacing, down to earth fans in the history of world football.
As the realisation hits that Nando may sign for Chelsea. I’m sat with LFCtv on, constantly refreshing the page on the official site. I have Sky Sports news on in the kitchen and I’ve set up the laptop so I can keep an eye on the BBC transfer ticker. On my iphone I’ve got the Echo website and on my desktop I’ve got RAWK (of course). I’ve borrowed my brother’s Nokia N900 and I’m eagerly checking Goal.com for news and I’m following twitter on my sister’s notebook. I’m getting any Facebook updates on me mam’s Nokia N97.
Waiting........ Desperate for news. Desperate for closure. Desperate to move on from the torture of this desolate limbo.
I can’t do anything else but wait. My 3 year old son is lying on the settee choking. He’s got cystic fibrosis and urgently needs a lung massage to remove the mucus caused by his decreased mucociliary clearance. But I myself am choking. Choking on the idea that our hero, our talisman, the one we thought was one of us, will leave us and take the 30 pieces of silver offered by a smaller club.
So my son will have to struggle to breathe a little longer - until the answers come.
Can you hear my son Fernando?
I remember long ago another painful night like this
When Rafa left Fernando
He was choking and confused as I was glued to Sky Sports news
I can hear him struggle for air
As sounds of your departure are echoing all around
And now you’re going Fernando
Every hour every minute seems to last eternally
I am so afraid Fernando
My son is young and full of life and I’m prepared to let him die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The news that you might leave has almost made me cry
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Now he’s still and grey Fernando
And all day now I haven't seen a biro in your hand
Put us out of our pain Fernando?
Release us from this misery and let him live again?
I can see it in your eyes
You want to change your mind and stay close to the King.
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
He’ll be struggling for air all night
Till we know your plight, Fernando
But there’s still a chance for you and me
Ignore Chelsea, Fernando
Though my son has now turned blue
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
