Pilgrimage

My turn to join the ranks of Evertonian blippers who have made the pilgrimage to our new stadium at Bramley Moore Dock.

I was in Liverpool by 10:00 having made an early start from Wales; a journey of only 25 miles as the crow flies, but close to three hours by public transport. As is becoming a bit of a custom, I went for a coffee in the Walker Gallery and spent an hour with the art before starting a gentle walk through town and out to the ground. It’s about a two mile, 30 minute walk when coming from the city centre, and plenty were doing that. No need to consult maps with a steady stream of blue shirts to follow, and then once on the dock road it’s a straight walk, with the ground visible from around a mile away (extra). 

On arrival I headed round to the west side where there is a fine elevated, stepped area giving great views up and down the Mersey, and across to Wales (extras). On a fine day (as it was) I could happily sit up there for a couple of hours watching the boats. 

I headed into the ground around an hour before kick-off. I’d managed to get a ticket for the North Stand. There were fairly lengthy queues to get through the turnstiles, but it was well managed. Lengthier queues again for food and drink, but that may settle down as people work out what people can get there (I unwittingly joined the chicken queue, but I was only after a coffee and some water.)

Then into the stand, for an emotional build up to the kick off before the teams (with Brighton and Hove Albion today’s visitors) arrived on the pitch to 50,000 flags (extra). The game went to script for an opening day, first competitive game: an early goal to settle the nerves, a second early in the second half to ease the tension, a strong performance from the new star signing and a saved penalty for drama. In fairness Brighton could easily have scored a few and spoiled the party, but the gods were looking kindly on us today.

My main images captures the moment the final whistle went, with one fan always slightly quicker on the uptake, 2-0 on the scoreboard and Pickford doing his traditional primal scream. A day when it all went to plan.