"The largest Anglican cathedral in the world and one of the most architecturally impressive Catholic churches of Great Britain dominate Europe's new culture capital Liverpool. With concerts, exhibitions and other events, the two large churches in the city participate in the culture of 2008. To move the Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ The King , the mother church of all Catholics, northern England, and the mighty Liverpool Cathedral in the spotlight. " The Sunday Journal of Bavaria (Click to read the article please click on the headline of this post) shines in its online edition with a brilliantly written overview of the history of two of the most striking buildings out of Liverpool. The observant reader is perhaps the intimate connoisseur of Liverpool with even during the heading "This ring the Beatles. Liverpool's Capital of Culture is dominated by two giant churches" on, that the author may have spent more than two days in the Capital of Culture, and this two days definitely do not have extended over a weekend. The suspicion is confirmed no later than the first paragraph of the main text is presented in the apparently detailed knowledge as if it would have hours of interviews, or at least required a lot of imagination and comprehension, to guide elephants and giraffes as predicates against this megalomaniac building in the field. The jets, various zoo inhabitants, British small cars and football fields entsprigen not, however, the literary brilliance of the author, but the tourists to view information placed table with a touch screen that provides one described comparisons with a finger, as I recall even in the exact order described.
much more fatal than the easy-to-debunking lack of journalistic Investigation (what does one expect from a Bavarian cheese leaves too), however, misinformation, no, the lie is to pretend the reader is already in the title of the Bavarian world understanding of the omnipotence of God. The two dominant Liverpool houses of worship are in fact not St. James and the Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ The King, but Anfield Road and Park Godison That is the truth and can not be overlooked if you spend a weekend during the season in Liverpool.
But thousands of soccer followers, whose numbers are loose on a game day, the attendance of all the churches of Liverpool together all year exceeds, am I too made a pilgrimage to Anfield from God's grace, to experience a special tribute match. In this city, it is not Anglican or Catholic, but red or blue. Through a series of extraordinary coincidences that can only be explained by divine intervention, so I held a ticket for the last home game of the glorious Liverpool FC in the hand. Exceeded my anyway spherical happiness was still increased from the end of season sale of the Club store, which I still shoot quickly a shirt at half price.
all round I went on a sunny Sunday afternoon on the way to miss a minute dis ritual that has to be a football game can be the first to worship. In an even more empty swept pub where rose noticeably the haze of last Saturday night from the thick carpet, I took the first pint of holy water to me and let me down, witness the fall of the arch-rival and Satan in Blue (Everton) against Arsenal . At halftime it was 1-0 to Arsenal, for 2-0 pints me and I left the potions, to inquire in a filled bar, how to get the best to the scene. It was not long before I came to talk with four men in their fifties who were obviously also attend the show and invited me spontaneously to share with them a taxi, public transportation for the Anfield Road are in fact non-existent. On a very enjoyable trip, I heard stories of finals in Germany in the 70s ("Gladbach, you know, just to get back to") and the wild celebrations in connection with stories that illustrate women bred girls. Arrived at Anfield was opened to me also the same, why there is no bus service to the inner city is, there is simply no space for one stop. The oversized metal box is in the middle of a run-down housing estate where every second door is boarded up with heavy boards. The six pubs in the vicinity, however, enjoy a thriving business and move to the home game again properly to the beer prices. Who can afford a ticket for 50 € pekiert not even if the beer will cost 4.50.
The Anfield Road, which has given the stadium its name, was like the Krang Kirmes in Herne as I rushed into the fray, but without the rides, but with various attractions such as Männekarussells Chippies (French Fries stands) or fan stands. I contributed to the first pub on my left, out of which the fans have swelled from all windows and doors and from which one could hear loud singing. It has naturalized in the English football scene that one warm singing in pubs, because the association has arranged inexplicably, sonicate to the venues before the match Pupmusik unbearable, probably to prevent riots. This is the independent observer of something incomprehensible, considering the almost non-existing barriers between the stands and playing field, let alone between the rival groups of supporters. The common English fan is adaptable and finally the Bölkstoff in the potions cost less than half as much as in the stadium. In Salisbury we went so off like the Lutzi and I was allowed me in some of the most sophisticated creations of English football texts delight ("He is tall, he is red and his feet stick out the bed - Peeeeteeeeer Crouch" Steve Gerrard Gerrard, can fit over 50 yards, he's red and he's fuckin hard Steve Gerrard Gerrard, "etc.). Before the pub was nice to see the usual Liverpool sediment that is attracted to the big event, because the number of potentially increased harassment and rapidly falls down because maybe some greedy twining Bierbauchfan a french fries. Particularly stood out for me a very charming Zeitgenössin who wanted to gloss over their toothless and the inches deep lines in her marked by life face with pretty colored black and pink hair and, after an estimated half a pallet cheap beer outside the pub on men fishing, to the chagrin of all nicotine-dependent Fußballverückten. Beautiful was the sight of a nun who had disguised himself, like all her colleagues from the bar staff, to celebrate the day and are infected by the layer outside the pub a big bag. The Weihrauchassotiationen shoot the respected readers whether the overarching theme of the contribution, of course, once in the head.
When I finally had just arrived relatively early in my high earners square next to the press box, I witnessed how the temple filled slowly, due to the small size of the stadium did not last very long. In general, one wonders already, that this metal arbor at all given the licenses for international business. However, when all seats are filled (which is invariably at every home game of the case) there is no escape from everything and it is inevitably part of the unconditional celebrating fans. In addition to the already came on the standard gate of Fernando Torres shortly after half time, another high point was when Didi Hamann. Although he now for the Opponents Manchester City played at Anfield, he was welcomed like a prodigal son. Didi is a legend in Liverpool and I lead some of the openness to the Germans I have seen too often in this city back on its merit. Didi won with Liverpool in the UEFA Cup, but he became the great hero in 2005 when he was despite a stress fracture in his right foot heavily involved in the sensational comeback of the residue at halftime and 3-0 in a penalty shoot the first flush untenable. Such acts do not forget in Liverpool and the Kop stood accordingly (something like the South Stand of Anfield) head. After
I started the game in the pouring rain on the way to a pub near the stadium, the position I scribbled a colleague in the staff room on a sheet of paper and had me where I should arrive after the game. Said colleague, whom I had consistently since the beginning of my residency is called James, an English teacher at Neston High and a rather insignificant, if not shy contemporary with a thick block Glaus glasses. We had regularly played football and met us in the staff room ("Alright James") and I expected a more peaceful end of the football on Sunday. When I entered, but the packed pub I witnessed a miraculous Transformation. Not just suddenly James was Phil, then what corresponded well actually his name, but also was to speak again from Paul Saul, because of Phil's shyness was to discover not even a trace. He drank quite happy with his crazy friends to race and I was, before I knew it, a part of it. At Phil's disciples were such amazing lives as Tony, who spent his best years as a bartender in Lloret de Mar and was also in Liverpool not a child of sorrow, he had four children by three different women (one of which a child's current girlfriend were present). The other of the troops were all that which is here "Pissheads" calls, full, but amiable contemporaries who never spit into the beer. Drinking, singing and laughing, so we moved from pub to pub and I rappelled me for some reason, from otherwise not in accordance with my nature, before, although I am Tony, so to speak, as an act of Christian charity, had offered for the night.
Amen
