She's a Grand Old Lady

For me, it's going in the early 1960s with my grandad and dad, now going in the early 2020s with my son and grandsons.

Thinking of how it all started going to Goodison Park, first reserve games then a magical first-team game versus Arsenal. Through the turnstiles and up the steps into the Boys Pen, aged seven, looking at a really wonderful stadium and just engrossed looking round and waiting for the players to come out.

Started as they began Everton for me, we lost 2-0, but nothing could take away that wonderful feeling of just being there watching my team. magic, couldn't wait for the next game... 2 weeks later, we lost again to Stoke City 1-0.

In between those two games, I saw Liverpool beat Huddersfield Town 4-0 and Blackpool 2-0, I think Stanley Matthews missed a penalty in that game, late on a Saturday, so I think it was a Grand National day.

Liverpool never got into my imagination like The Blues did, loved them before I ever saw them and still do. Had some sad days at The Old Lady but some glorious and wonderful days and nights there topped by a Wednesday night at the end of last season against Crystal Palace.

I can't think of any other game that brought me so much joy as that delirious exciting feeling at the end of that game when I danced with joy and went from a silly old man to a young very happy teenager again. We just might squeeze another day or night like that before we leave The Old Lady but take our memories with us.

Man Utd red, Everton Blue, Kendall 1-0, I was 7 or 8. We won, deal sealed, never looked back.

Heartache, hope, glory, pain, anger, frustration, joy, more pain, fear, love, despair — all of life's emotions revolving around what eleven men choose to do or not to do.

2012, 4-year-old son, first game, August evening, Fellaini header v Man Utd. Heart won.

There'll never be a place in this world that matches it. Time moves on and all that, but it'll never be the same. Not looking forward to leaving. I love that place.

Nothing will capture the atmosphere and the tension of the crowds, pubs, around and being inside the ground.

Queuing up to be first in, great games, memories to be proud of, and life-changing in developing that Evertonian spirit, and the spirit to get through life's challenges.

Memories of Family, past and present, never to be forgotten.

Goodison Park will never leave us, as we will leave Goodison Park in a couple of years, and I'm sure there will be rivers of happy and sad tears, but also the hope of a new place to go and fresh hope for a Royal Blue future at Bramley-Moore Dock.

Hope eternal, for Everton.

First time I appreciated a winning goal and going berserk was Latchford's last-minute winner v QPR who had a hell of a team then. Screaming and crying with joy when that went in.

I was on the ledge of the Street end and on my own but still unforgettable. Like thousands of kids the Street End and Everton shaped you as you grew up.

Those who understand need no explanation, those who don't…

My first game at Goodison, Koeman was there — playing for the opposition. 0-0 v Feyenoord. Funnily enough, he was my favorite non-Everton player.

I'd seen Everton before in London, first game being 1-1 last day of the season under HKII when Pat Nevin scored at QPR after which Jim Rosenthal gave Roy Wegerle the golden boot.

But Goodison was markedly different. The high stands, endless hordes of people wearing the same blue shirt as me. Plus it was “under the lights” and I got the full Gwladys Street experience.

Funnily enough, after the game, I rode back on the bus where I got chatting with John Aldridge's dad — he wasn't at the game, just happened to be on the bus. Nice old fellow even if his son was a bit of a RS knob.

Thereafter, most games I saw were “under the lights” as they were winter when it's dark early when I was at Uni in Manchester and used to get the train over to Liverpool.

Outside the ground, I will miss at Bramley-Moore Dock that feeling that people are pouring out of houses literally on the doorstep of the ground. That community feel you don't get at most clubs.

That legacy has dragged us down, decade after decade, under our piss-poor boardroom and owners (after whom we name stands!).

Yes, I've delighted in visiting in it, the electric night matches, the wit and smell of those in the old lady, but we haven't had a hope in hell of improvement as a club whilst we're still there.

It's like Brands Hatch compared to Silverstone, modern-day Old Trafford compared to yester-year (both football and cricket), and other places that've long before realised major change is absolutely essential to positive progression.

We're miles behind the pace. the new stadium at Bramley-Moore Dock, if it ever resembles what was originally projected, might just be the catalyst to returning to trophy-winning contenders.

Providing we get a competent owner and boardroom.

Sigh!

It's definitely time to go – we've tried to drag the place into the 21st Century but it's giving up the ghost around us – but I'll miss the weight of its history, of my history, the memories of my dad, and of mates when I was a teenager, the journey from down south since I left our city, and the green green grass of Goodison throughout it all.

It wasn't the 19 bus, it was the 17 that took you up towards Arkles Lane, from Utting Avenue, and I used to love the 14 bus, because I used to get on it every single day of my young life, and it took me everywhere.

It was tragic really because it was known as the “smack bus” (heroin) and even on those hot summer nights, you often couldn't open the windows upstairs because there would usually be a little firm of addicts telling you to shut the window, because they were trying to have a toot.

Thatcher's Britain, thank god we had football, because we had very little else.

Yes, bad times and I'll be honest, a bad place to live in at the time when I reflect. But I love the City and as much as I left, I always went back and go back. As I said to many a friend, there was little opportunity for young people in Liverpool then, which is why I took a trip to the career office on Derby Square.

But they were also times that gave you lessons in life. Be thankful for what you achieve, want to achieve and be grateful when you do achieve. But most importantly, never forget your roots and always give back. I did with the kids here in West London when I coached them. Some came from terrible backgrounds and there are some really deprived areas here despite the perceptions of London. I might have given them tough love but it's always rewarding when I meet some of them on the street, or these days, in a pub and they come and shake my hand or give me a hug. Sadly some went down the wrong side of the law, but all you can do is try to help them.

Sorry to get overly emotional but I guess that was the theme of the thread.

Me and my brother have said that for a long time Don. How much has our beloved Goodison actually dragged us back? I think we all know the obvious answer to that question. Those clubs you mention smelled the coffee and woke up long ago. And we are no Derby, Leicester, Sunderland or Southampton (St Mary's seems to be made of tin by the way). Our competitors at the time were streets ahead of us in having a vision.

The King's Dock was the big missed opportunity that set us back decades. But it's what we do and will do moving forward now. For the next generation that I love watching and standing alongside when I am fortunate enough to go and watch the blue boys. Those young supporters are carrying the torch.

Sorry for the ramble.

I lived in New Zealand, and couldn't get my head around the Kiwis, who told me they thought Liverpool was a strange place. I used to look at them like they were nuts, because if I used 100 adjectives to describe our city, I genuinely couldn't come up with “strange”, so it was something that bemused me for many years.

Their description hit me a bit later in life, when fortunes started to change, and Liverpool was finally not that downtrodden place anymore. It wasn't strange, it was tense, very tense actually, because there was high unemployment, and I'm certain without our wits and a thriving black economy, we simply wouldn't have survived.

I started getting that same very tense feeling, that I'd forgotten about, whenever I visited London, not longer after the millennium, Danny. So it's only natural (to me) when you say a few of your kids have gone down the other road.

We are going to have to start using new roads ourselves soon, so let's make the most of the old ones, the roads that lead us to Goodison Park, and hopefully have a great 18 months, before, “we are finally moved!”

He would go way too far and actually ripped our new front door off its hinges as the council in their wisdom painted it maroon. We had no door for 3 days but it shaped my (probably unhealthy) look on the world. He made sure as the youngest I was also a Blue but was there any other choice?

Strange people indeed, Tony Abraham's. Well we definitely are different.

Respected

My dad was a chippie. I never appreciated that he'd lug this contraption he made for me into every home game (first one when I was 6 in 1968), lean it against the concrete wall down the front, diagonally opposite the old clock, and stand me up on its top step.

Even then I could only just see over the top of the wall. White socks running past my face were all I remembered of games for a while!

My fear is that, with the new stadium, this sense of community will be lost. I understand the need for evolution and progress but not if the soul of the club is extinguished.

I spent a bit of time in that area myself out of Girdwood Park and later lived for 2 years in Lisburn, just south of Belfast.

Belfast is a place I love and I agree, has many similarities to Liverpool. I do however think we are more linked to Dublin. Belfast has always seemed more closely aligned to Glasgow in my opinion.

But the cultural similarities are very similar. Liverpool is unique. A Celtic enclave in northern England. Not as sectarian as Belfast or Glasgow, but the positive is that Belfast seems to be breaking down those divides, from what I can see?

My grandfather hated it. He was a proud Ulsterman. He was a proud Irishman. He served in the British Army and I still have his Burma Star.

I love Belfast.

This part may be clouding my judgement but pretty sure there were toilets by the Cementry, by the gates and the charge over the road, to relive yourselves, pre toilets on a coach, then hear a roar go up as visiting supporters were greated by get into them.

Early Days, going into the Park end before it was bricked off, the massive main stand, and like others have mentioned, how much greener the grass looked, and also the unique half moon behind both goals and the a-z going along Bullens road, for the ht scores, back then the football programmes were so much better, easy to fit into your pocket, apart from the Swindon Town programme (fa cup Jan 77 away) that was still the biggest programe I've come across.

The toffee lady pre match kick off, seeing players arrive outside the park end and signing autographs, the Freddy Boswell hot dog sellers corner of Priory Road, the very limited selection at the snack bar, packet of plain Bensons crisps, bovril, cup of tea, the odd chocolate snack.

The one voice that rises above everything with a witty comment, the constant teasing of the police parading the pitch side, the track suited ball boys, st Johns ambulance men and stretchers, the hairs on your neck standing up as the drum roll to Zcars kicks in.

Getting a great spec in the ground, where you could meet your mates, not so good when someone tall shows up ten minutes before kick off, and stands in front of you, first attack and crowd moving forward, where you carefully nudge your way in a better spot.

Leaving Goodison and rushing back to the coach, just in time to hear full time results on the radio, before passing Goodison one last time on match Day, on your journey home.

Oh yes the old lady has served us all well, will be a sad Day on our final match there.

Bramley Moore has got a lot to live up to, sure it will serve us well in time.

Great article Danny.

Turning up and paying at the turnstiles for both home and away games, and being able to stand with all your mates, now mates sit in all four parts of the stadium and not much chance of getting two seats together, unless it is a cup game, some prefer to sit and understandable, but I do not half miss that option of paying on the gate, and picking where you stand.

Madrid had a white hanky if the performance was poor, at Everton it was cushions being launched, from the main stand.

At least at the new stadium, safe standing has been implemented , so that should add some atmosphere for big games.

Well said indeed!

Don. Squeezed lemons? I remember half time oranges, but lemons? Surely not squeezed in the eye to wake players up? Brutal.

With Danny on the squeezed Lemons, did you mean oranges.

Either that or they're Led Zep fans!

I think the new stadium will be great, I think we will miss the surrounding area of Everton, Stanley Park, Priory Road, the Cementry, the houses and the pubs, the chippies, but at least we will not have that patched up stadium over the park to have in our line of sight, walking to the new stadium.

Have a good feeling about the new ground, but we will always look back fondly, at the grand old lady.

We replaced the 63 team with the 69-70 team, we replaced the 70 team with the 84-85 team, then replaced the 85 team with the 87 team, it's now overdue to replace the 87 team, along with Goodison.