"The "Two Steve's" head to Europe for the first time" #lfc #fcsion

One of 8 rambling personal stories that weave their way through my first self-published book on the Mighty Reds of Liverpool, and a time machine back to 1997 and a trip to the quaint town of Sion in Switzerland for the "Two Steve's" first trip into Europe with the Reds.

A very long chapter. A very long video.

And I almost did it the justice I hoped for!

An extract from the chapter follows below, together with a link to a book I'm immensely proud of and other ways and means of supporting me, if you are able, to thumb the eye of the traditional publishers who refused to read my original manuscript!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C6W6TYCL

https://www.patreon.com/TheBlackfordBookClub
https://www.paypal.me/TheBlackfordBookClub
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/steveblackford

"So there we were, “Steve The Taxi Driver” and I or the commonly known “Two Steve’s”, excitedly waiting and pacing up and down at 1am on a Wednesday morning as we awaited the coach to arrive at the appointed pick up spot at Dover for our “rite of passage” moment:

Not the good natured abuse we’d shortly receive from a coach full of Liverpool born Scousers (although that was guaranteed as soon as we boarded the coach) but our first trip into Europe to watch the Mighty Reds of Liverpool.

Being a Liverpool fan of my vintage, European trips were held in the greatest of magical majesty. Rome twice, London and Paris were ingrained on every Red’s footballing memory. If you were there on any of these occasions when “Old Big Ears” was lofted high into the night sky by Emlyn Hughes (twice), Phil Thompson or a one handed Graeme Souness on a gladiatorial night in Rome, then you may as well have hoisted the European Cup yourself.

These were the big European nights but there were many, many others, both at home and via the easily duped railway systems of Europe. So this 1st leg of a 2nd Round European Cup Winners Cup tie in a tiny Swiss town was our rite of passage moment. It was Steve’s idea and after no doubt borrowing a sizable amount of the £129 from my dear old Mum, I was in. I vividly recall talking of nothing else prior to our trip into a European wonderland and I also vividly recall travelling with just two plastic money bags full of 20p’s that I raided from the change in my whiskey bottle that held all my excess money. I was going on my first European trip to watch Liverpool with a handful of coins, on the “bones of my arse” as we English used to say, and with another Steve, my travelling companion of many a Liverpool game.

As the coach slowed in front of us it was clear it was ours and we stumbled our way to our allotted seats amid not abuse but certainly wary stares from the 50 or 60 Reds on the coach. We were obviously “Southern Reds” and that didn’t go in our favour and so we quickly grabbed our seats and no doubt quietly stared at our shoes for a couple of long hours as we travelled into Northern France.

These Reds had already travelled six hours from Liverpool and here we were, a couple of smiling Southern interlopers boarding their coach. I would’ve probably given these two soft lads a wary stare or barbed comment too if I were in their shoes.

Then again, 36 hours later we were the “Kings of the Coach” and cheered to the rafters like returning heroes from the Great War.

But that’s getting ahead of ourselves".

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