A London boy born and bred that I am, I met a lovely girl in this southern city, who came from a place called Liverpool. The year was 1967: What a wonderful girl!
And oh, what a lovely accent she had (and still has)! A wonderful sense of humour and sense of mischief (that people from the north of England have, especially "Liverpudlians").

She must have liked me. She took me home to Liverpool to meet her Mum and Dad in Anfield in 75 Newcombe St (stone's throw from Liverpool's football ground). The city and the people were absolutely brimming with good humour and made this Southerner very welcome.

Astonished to see how you supported either "Blue" or "Red" colour's, her brother was home on leave from the Army, said to me: 'D' ya' fancy match on Saturday?'
I'd never seen a match here, so I said “Okay!”

Her brother said that he had a bit of a problem, so I had to promise not to open my mouth.

I asked him why. He answered: 'Because the match is a Derby between Liverpool and Everton. Tickets are like hen's teeth.'

So I, as a Southerner found myself in Bill Shankley's Liverpool Kingdom, standing in the Mighty Kop, fabulous atmosphere of the stadium, which etched in my memory for all time and on pain of death unable to speak, because of my southern (cockney) accent.

That was my first memory of many wonderful times in a wonderful place called "Liverpool".

(from the Of Time and the City website community)

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This story was added on 17th September 2010

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