I was at my parents' house when I got the news. It was Mother's Day, we had just finished our dinner, and were now sat watching Toy Story 3 when I received this text:
"I have had to go back home :( council tax were on to me and my
parents thought it was best for me to come back :("
This was a concern. I excused myself from Toy Story 3 - it was just at the bit in the furnace but fortunately I've seen it before so I know that they don't all die - and headed back to Tewkesbury Place.
Coming through the front door I noticed a suitcase at the top of the stairs.
It actually turned out to belong to Pete but it was still poignant.
* * *
The previous day, we had been busy with Cliffey's birthday present. As previously mentioned, Tom and I had bought tickets to see Everton vs. Aston Villa, and boy howdy were we excited.
The drive up to Liverpool was long, but not that long. We had our music, some food, an Everton shirt flagging out of the rear window and, most importantly, we had each other, so the 4 hours passed quite quickly. We even managed to find time to stop at a service station near Birmingam, where we came across a busload of Chelsea supporters on their way to Stoke. They were loud and obnoxious - one of them called Tom and Cliffey cunts because they were wearing Everton shirts - but Stoke managed to hold their team to a disappointing 1-1 draw so hahaha.
The drive back was more of a slog. Two hours it took us to get from the car park to Runcorn bridge, a journey that Google Maps would have you believe takes just over 25 minutes. But post-match traffic and roadworks conspired to slow us down as much as possible. On the plus side, when we did eventually get out of Merseyside, Cliffey knew a rather nice route that took us down through North Wales and Middle England, where we witnessed some of the best place names I've ever heard, all of which I happily shouted out as we passed the signs:
"Knockin Heath!"
"Hope Under Dinmore!"
"Rhosllanerchrugog!"
Also, Cliffey has just pointed out that, while we were stuck in the Liverpool traffic, we saw Randy Lerner drive past in his limo. Apparently he's the Aston Villa chairman or something important like that.
But I've yet to mention the bit in between, the actual football bit. It was good, a 2-2 draw. There was all sorts going on - goals that should have been disallowed but weren't, goals that should have been allowed but weren't, a penalty, Emile Heskey...the works. Tom and Cliffey did not manage to convince me to don the Everton shirt that had been dangling out the window, but fortunately nobody cottoned on to the fact that I'm actually Liverpool fan.
I did get some stick though, not least as we were leaving the stadium when some bright spark in an Everton top broke the news that "Liverpool lost!" which evoked a cheer from all present.
As I pointed out at the time, if the best part of a football match is hearing that another team lost, it's time to support a different team.
Cunts.
Joel.
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