Has Anfield '89 set the bar for all sporting drama?

I've found it difficult to start this blog.  I'm not writing about a certain player, or infuriating media bias or even emotionally fuelled nonsense, which is a speciality.  The subject of this piece is something that a churlish, phlegmatic approach is not respectful enough, nay, wouldn't be fit enough to lace Mickey Thomas's boots.  I need to don the white gloves, lower the harsh, fluorescent lights and type in hushed taps.  This event deserves revered glances, the best seats in the house.  If it were a celebrity it would undoubtedly have a ' An Audience With ' show on PrimeTime TV, the crowd filled with the Hoi-Palloi of acting talent. 

So, as I mentioned, I have struggled to kick things off ( pardon the pun ) with this blog. 

What I want to portray, is the sheer magnitude of the task Arsenal faced on that famous day in May 1989.  I want to be the portent of the sheer difficulty they faced, I want to be the harbinger of the emotions that not only the players attempted to subdue, but what the fans endured.  On the topic of emotions, I will begin with my own.

I'm jealous of every fan that was there for that pivotal, historic, salient, ground-breaking, epoch-making, paramount match.  What a story to tell your offspring.  Screw that, what a yarn to unwind with every single person you meet.  If I was there ( seeing as I've watched the DVD so many times my wife groans when I watch it ) I would wax lyrical about the day, the whole day.  A lovely lady I know from Twitter, Amanda, was lucky enough to be present for possibly the greatest ending to a season ever, and she wrote a blog describing events from start to glorious, golden finish.  As I read hungrily, devouring the words and fervour that sprung from every syllable, I thought to the images, the iconic, unforgettable effigies that stand sentry-like whenever the Gunner memory files are opened.  The shirts, the delirious, fantastically voiced fans, Nigel Winterburn's free kick that Smudger glanced in.  That glance, like an Angels Sigh. 

The most symbolic though, even surpassing Mickey Thomas and his goal celebration where he gave in completely to delirium, was Steve McMahon, holding one gnarled, expectant finger, sending out a message to the rest of his Scouser Cadre that they only had to withstand the Arsenal onslaught for one, more, minute.  Not only did that make it all the sweeter, but he was wrong as there were three minutes added due to Kevin Richardsons injury.  Egg on his face I don't think even begins to cover how he felt at the final whistle.

Normally I'd apologise for digressing somewhat but is there anything better than sometimes to submit to nostalgia?  Aren't memories the currency we use in later life, that always guarantee happiness even in the face of duress?  I will not acknowledge guilt for pulling up a plush armchair in my mind, in front of a roaring fire, and indulging myself with the best movie you will ever have the the good fortune to witness. 

As an Arsenal fan, one of our token phrases is ' We never do it the easy way '.  Never truer words spoken when it came to the '88 - '89 season.  15pts clear at the start of the year, the League Table before the match gave a now notorious situation: Arsenal 3pts behind, need a win by two clear goals to claim their first title since 1971. 

I've spoken to a few fans who attended that day, or were riveted to a TV in the local.  A lot said that only a smidgen of their grey matter allowed any sliver of hope to permeate through the grey blanket of rationale.  The grey blanket was weaved by the odds stacked against the boys in yellow and blue.  Even a national newspaper had the headline " You haven't got a prayer Arsenal ".  It wasn't the Daily Mail funnily enough.

The plain harsh facts were Anfield was beyond a Fortress.  The last time they were beaten there by two clear goals, Ian Rush's moustache was but a sparkle in his dads eye.   The Liverpool team of the '80's was all conquering.  Merciless.  The press expected nothing less than yet another Scouse League win.  Isn't that what makes the best scripts for the movies you watch repeatedly?  Triumph in the face of overwhelming adversity?

I am going to put an opinion out there in cyberspace.  It's contentious, but I fully stand by it.  @ me if you must.