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17/05/04 |
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There can be no greater pride than taking your children down to Goodison Park for their very first game. We now live in an age where we can record such events. It wasn't like that when my father brought me to Goodison Park for the first time. And to think, back then, I was off out to "see a man about a dog" with my father. This is for my son, Eoin - may you forever have blue blood coursing through your veins! "ONCE A BLUE, ALWAYS A BLUE" Colin Harvey Testimonial Goodison Park Sunday August 10, 2003 EVERTON 3 BOLOGNA 0
When I was a kid we didn’t walk on past a spilt coin from someone’s pocket. No Sir! We picked it up and legged it to the local shop for a bag of sweets – three liquorice pipes and a few fizzle sticks. One or two thrown in if you were on good terms with the shopkeeper! There was once a time when you could get a decent bag of sweets for ten pence. Don’t laugh kids – it’s true. Times have changed now with kids more likely to shrug their shoulders and idle on by, hands in their pockets, couldn’t be bothered with picking up that unwanted coin. We live in a materialistic today, which is a shame. I might be right, I might be wrong but I sense that today’s crop of Blues growing up in and around Goodison Park share not the same sort of chemistry with our home as generations of kids before them. We live in a world where we look on, supposedly enviously, at the nearest soulless steel stadium (sponsored by some global chemical giant) and see our kids being hypnotised by a vision. A vision we can ill-afford, no doubt, but that’s another argument for another day. My parents opted to move away from Walton back in 1976 – back over to the green grass of home, into the bosom of family. I’m as Irish as they come but my heart remains firmly in the City that lies by the banks of a once blue Mersey. I can still see the County Road of the mid 1970s, the hustle and bustle of the shops, the familiar faces. Many have long since departed. Only the litter remains the same! Close your eyes for a second and walk along County Road of yesteryear and look up those side streets at our beloved Goodison Park. Takes you back doesn’t it? Priceless memories which money cannot buy - a smile cost nothing. And then you dream of bringing your own kids down that same road at some point in the future. You’ve got to do it if it’s in the blood. It’s like the passing of the baton, though your race isn’t done yet either. I remember my childhood days, when living in Liverpool, how my father would simply tell me to fetch my coat as we were off to see a man about a dog. How many youngsters go in search of dogs with silk Everton scarves tied to their wrists, eh? In an Alex Haley “Roots” style, that was the beginning of a never-ending love affair with the Blues. I often wondered how many other kids inside Goodison on those days were also with their parents who’d set out to seek this fabled man with the dog… And so to August 10, 2003 – a quiet Sunday afternoon at Goodison Park and a chance for one and all to pay homage to the great Colin Harvey. Too good an opportunity to spurn I reckoned. It was decided, well in advance, that this would be the day my son, Eoin, experienced his first taste of Goodison Park. Eoin is like every other five-year-old boy with a passion for football. He shares the same hero as every other Evertonian of his age. Surely you don’t require that player’s name, eh? The emergence of Wayne Rooney has been a godsend to me in my quest to raise my children as staunch Evertonians. It warms my heart to hear himself and his two-year-old sister, Eimear, singing Z Cars with gusto.
At half past five that August Sunday morning, we woke him up. Wearing his Everton pyjamas he leapt out of bed and into the back seat of the car as we set off for Dublin. His smile, which he vainly tried to hide, was wider than the Mersey tunnel. Youthful excitement added to parental pride can bring a tear to the eye. At Dublin airport he changed into his Everton kit and strode through the crowds as though he were cock o’ the walk! Thirty minutes later, he set foot down on the other side of the Irish Sea and I doubt very much if he knew himself what lay ahead of him for the rest of the day. As we approached Queens Drive I began to wander back through the years. I do it every time I’m back home in Liverpool. We’d hired a chauffeur from Toffee Pages (sparing no expenses!) and as I motioned towards Walton Hospital, explaining to my son that that is where I was born, our driver decided to take the diversion away from County Road and down to the Hospital we went for a spin. To see the sorry state of the old building was indeed heavy on the heart. How this is allowed to happen I will never know. Our “Roots” style tour, for the benefit of a five year old who couldn’t care less, continued with a gawk down Hornby Road. Ah, the old house is still looking fine and it was nice to see the nettles removed! Just for the record, I would clearly like to state that the old house on Hornby Road was not at the HM Hornby Hotel! As you do on County Road, on match day, we opted for some liquid refreshment in one of the local hostelries. With it being a Sunday, where else could one go but within touching distance of a church – so we made our entrance into The Black Horse, where we introduced Eoin to his new Everton friends (the majority still hungover by the looks of things!). Kids being kids, they tend to bond with other kids at an instance. No sooner had we got our feet under the table, Eoin was out in the beer garden kicking ball with other youngsters, all adorned in various Evertonian splendour. Not being used to the sight of every kid playing football and wearing Everton kits; I found this to be a pleasing sight. They say blood warms… Oh blood warms alright. As we walked down County Road, I kept a keen eye on my young fella. It was like looking at myself back in the early 1970s, walking towards Goodison for the first of many times. As we hit the corner of Winslow Street the excitement lit his little face. There it was. Standing there up the street. Timeless. Magic. If a picture could ever paint a thousand words, this does it for me…
Now, I don’t know if it’s because we live in different times but when I was young you didn’t spend your first game at Goodison sitting in the director’s box. With it being a testimonial for Colin Harvey we had tickets to sit with friends who had paid for the privilege, on the day, of having a day out in the Joe Mercer Suite and seats in the Box. All about standards isn’t it! Start as you intend to continue? He wishes…
Going back twenty two years to the only photograph I have of myself as a kid outside Goodison. A holiday, back in Liverpool, and a chance for me to say "hey Dad, take a piccy of me outside Goodison......" Twenty two years later, Eoin standing in the same spot! More images of Eoin's first day out at Goodison Park
Note: All images on this page are copyrighted. Do not use without my permission. Thank you.
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17/05/04
Kids
are different
these
days.
Cue “
There
are, of
course, one or
two other
chants he’s
learnt already
but with 
We
were obviously
disappointed,
for Eoin’s
sake, not to
see his young
hero (twelve
years older
than “our
kid!”) in
action but he
took an
interest
nonetheless in
the action
down there on
the hallowed
turf. He
was quick to
observe the
school of
science
approach from
the home side
and it’s not
every day you
witness three
goals for the
home team at
Goodison
Park!
Perhaps, for a
nominal fee,
he could
become a lucky
mascot for the
Blues sometime
in the
future?!
As a parent, I’m
quite prepared
to waiver the
“fee” on
derby day!
A
comfortable
win for the
Blues was a
nice way to
round off his
first visit to
Goodison
Park.
One last walk
down County
Road with
loving glances
up at the Old
Lady followed
by a quick
bite to eat
and it was off
we went for
John Lennon
airport, a
mixture of
heavy heart
and immense
pride and
satisfaction
with a day
which could
not have been
planned any
better.
As we waited
for our flight
to take to the
skies, a tired
young
Evertonian
looked out of
the window one
last time and
said, “bye
bye Liverpool………see
you again next
year”.
The child’s
father turned
to his wife,
smiled, and
decided that
the time had
come for this
young Blue to
go, with his
father, and
see the fabled
man about a
dog more often…
