Day 129. Faith. (8/5/19)

Let's talk about faith and belief, shall we?

Faith, belief and imagination.

The moment that George Sephton, legendary 'Voice of Anfield' faded down The Standells' 'Dirty River' and replaced it with 'Imagine' was defining, emotional, appropriate.

Because it's about imagination. Anything you can imagine, you can achieve.

I demonstrate that to myself every single day of my new life. Everything I imagine, believe, and hold faith in, happens. You wouldn't believe the things I'm believing next.

I believed last night would happen.

Which isn't me claiming some kind of control over the events at Anfield. That would be bizarre. The idea that me believing in an against the odds victory could provide some kind of causation is ludicrous. Sixty-thousand of us believing it, willing it, urging it, sixty-thousand of us fully believing in and backing the group of young men proving that there are always ways to come back, though?

That's your causation right there.

They feed us their performance, their ability, their desire, their determination, we feed them our belief that they have it in them to do this. This is how you create legend. You create legend with hope and belief and determination and ability and passion and the imagination that you can do anything you set your mind to.

I didn't expect the 4-0. I expected 3-0 and penalties. Though I joked that I would have taken 5-1.

And wouldn't have been surprised by the 5-1 coming into being.

When Barca scored their third last week I didn't think it was over. I thought it was difficult. I thought we could score three but couldn't see them not scoring.

That lasted for a day or so. And then I could see them not scoring. Even after Newcastle had scored twice against us, I could see Barca not scoring. I could see us playing within ourselves at Newcastle, as we have done so many times this season when we've been aware that we needed to conserve energy for more vital challenges.

We wouldn't be playing within ourselves against a visiting Barcelona.

And we obviously didn't.

You know this. You saw this. Everybody saw this.

Last night's performance was an event for the ages. A night that will never be forgotten, a night that has repercussions.

Last night tells you that you can achieve, no matter how difficult it appears.

Take that. Apply it to your life. Live by that message. That's not about sport, that's about living, that's about creating your own reality.

Last night was a night where everybody believed as one. There were no dissenting voices. The anxiety that sometimes overflows onto the pitch at the hardest times was no longer present. Everything was about the next moment. The beauty of the next moment, the inevitability of success.

The first would inevitably lead to the second. The second does not need to lead to the inevitable third quite as quickly as it did but once you embrace the fact that this can happen, the fourth becomes obvious.

The greatest footballer the world has ever seen (and you know he is, he really is) came to Anfield and dissipated. He affected nothing. Philip Coutinho returned home to realise how unwanted he now was, Luis Suarez to find that Liverpool's love affair with him is very much a thing of the past. The only love we had last night was for those fighting for us, fighting to give us another one of those nights.

This was the most 'one of those nights' of all the nights. This was perfection. This was determination. This was imagination brought into being. The imagination of countless thousands brought into being by a group of young men who put their world at their feet.

Imagine being Trent Alexander Arnold. Imagine being a twenty-year old from Childwall who has lived this for the majority of his life and knowing that you are going to your second Champions League Final in two years. Knowing that your assists on two of the four goals caused this for us all.

Imagine that. Because he did. And then he did it.

Now imagine this: imagine being a Manchester City player and watching that. Imagine what they are thinking. Seeing that this team can come back from anything, seeing the belief that destiny is with us. Imagine being them and feeling that fate is with this other team. Suddenly that win against a Brighton team with nothing to play for, and therefore playing with complete freedom as they did at the Emirates last week, doesn't seem so simple. We've been waiting for the twist. Last night forces the twist.

This Sunday we win the league.

I believe this. I have imagined this. I'm ready for this.

And on 1st of June we win the Champions League.

When people spoke in August of what was wanted from the season, I was simple in my answer: the league and the European Cup.

Not speaking with hope, speaking with expectation. With confidence.

I'll tell you this now, in 2016, when I wrote my book 'They Say Our Days Are Numbered', as we approached the Europa League final, having never been to an away game in Europe and not being entitled to a ticket automatically, I knew I would be successful in the ballot. Knew it. Didn't hope or think, knew.

I will have a ticket for the final. I don't know how, I don't need to know how, I just need to know that I will.

Mick Coyle asked me at lunchtime, on Radio City Talk, where I would be watching the final.

There was only one answer:

"Madrid."

I'm going to Madrid. That's happening.

I arranged the travel this afternoon. And the travel went from three days, in and out to 'let's have a week away'. So we have a week away. And on the Saturday I will travel across Spain to Madrid.

On the Sunday I will return to our hotel having watched Liverpool lift another European Cup.

I've imagined it, I believe it. I know it.

That knowledge is everything.