GROUNDHOP DAY

Liverpool 1-2 Newcastle United. Carabao Cup Final. 16/03/2025.

‘ Unfortunately, when I picked him up, it had totally bypassed his mind that he was wearing a zip-up jumper with a BLACK AND WHITE pattern. Of course, I made him change. “There’s no way you’re getting in my car wearing that, you dickhead. You’ll get our heads kicked in.” A lovely welcome from me, but a welcome that ultimately allowed us to return safely home to our families.’

Wembley, it’s been a minute.

After years of ballot heartbreak trying to obtain a ticket to see my boyhood club play in a cup final – most notably in 2012, when I’d been to the majority of the games leading up to the League Cup showpiece – I had finally got my hands on a golden ticket. Although I didn’t have to rummage through multiple chocolate bars to get mine, I did feel as lucky as Charlie Bucket that I had the opportunity to see one of the all-time fixtures in our country at the home of English football. It’s a fixture I’ve been fortunate enough to see a few times, and on both occasions I’ve also been fortunate enough to see world-class goals. The Torres dummy and finish in 07-08, after a knife-through-butter pass from Gerrard to put him through on goal. Then the unbelievable chest, round and finish from Suarez in 12-13, which is still to this day one of the best goals I’ve ever seen live. However, none of that would matter come 16:30 on Sunday. Form goes out of the window on cup final day. Previous goals and matches don’t matter. It’s all about who turns up on the day and wants it more; unfortunately, it wasn’t the team in red. Did I contemplate not writing a blog because of this? Yes. That’s not very sporting, though, is it?  Win, lose or draw, I’ll be writing reviews. So here it is, a day of mixed emotions. A day where I was there as a fan (hence the lack of photos). A day where I saw the good and bad sides of other fans. A day at Wembley for the Carabao Cup Final 2025.

The day started off in similar fashion to how I used to feel as a kid waking up on Christmas Day, except this time, I’d actually gotten some sleep. It was a good job I had, as I was about to make a four-hour journey down south. As I made my way down for breakfast – options were aplenty in the Parkin household, as we’d just had our shopping delivered the previous day – it was the red box of KitKat Cereals that caught my eye. Today was all about red – everything must be considered – none of that black-and-white nonsense. At that point, I remembered the vehicle that was tasked with getting us there was white, with black alloys. Shit.

So off we went, on the long journey down the M1. The sun was trying its best to pierce through the clouds. The playlist was set (absolutely no Sam Fender allowed, for once). What could possibly go wrong?

Just over two hours later, we arrived at Northampton services; two-thirds of the way there. We’d managed to bypass any traffic issues, and as a result, we were ahead of schedule. Coincidentally, two hours happens to be about the limit a couple of fully grown, thirty-something men can hold their bladders. To our surprise – with this being one of the last services before London – it was fairly quiet. A few Liverpool fans here, a few Newcastle fans there, but nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the state of the fries I got from McDonald’s just a few moments later. Usually, they’re about as salty as an Arsenal fan. However, the ones I received barely had a sprinkle on. Dull and bland; a sign of things to come. At least the Philly-Cheese-Stack burger was ok… Anyway, enough about the food; this isn’t Tripadvisor. Off we went again, laughing at the vehicle being searched in the car park by the police.

It wasn’t long before we had arrived in Watford, where we parked up on a pre-paid driveway and walked over to the station. I’m not sure how much the houses on that street were worth, but they were all absolutely massive. Nearly as massive as Dan Burns head, but we’ll get to that shortly. As we paid the £14 return from Watford to Wembley – a £14 we would soon realise was completely unnecessary, as no one even checked for tickets – we were greeted by a bunch of Liverpool fans singing songs and shouting about how they needed to go to platform ten. I’m still not sure why, as the only train going to Wembley Central was at platform four. I hope they made the game.

The train was, of course, full of football fans from both sides. The ratio was roughly five football fans for every one local. Poor Margery, who was just wanting to mind her own business and head over to Euston to catch a connecting train, was surrounded by jubilant Scousers and Geordies; being told how Liverpool have conquered all of Europe and that Sandro Tonali drinks Moretti and eats spaghetti. As we arrived at Wembley Central and departed the train, it was the Liverpool fans drowning out Newcastle with songs. Unfortunately, this was to be the only time – on and off the pitch – where we would come out on top.

There’s been a lot of controversy surrounding Wembley Stadium over the years. A lot of people believe they have replaced the iconic old ‘Twin Towers’ with a version that’s simply not as good. Chuck in the year delay for its opening, due to the endless problems that were encountered whilst building it, and you can see why it wasn’t initially top of many people’s lists for ‘best new stadium’. Fast forward eighteen years, and most people have now accepted it as the new ‘home’ of English football, in addition to being a fantastic multi-purpose stadium that has hosted a huge variety of events throughout the years. I personally love Wembley. Although I don’t tend to be a massive fan of modern stadiums – mainly as they all look so similar – I’ve always thought this one has a real wow factor as you make your way up to it. So it should as well when it hosts the events it does. The arch instantly captures your attention and makes it feel almost like a landmark, rather than a stadium; we spotted it before we’d even arrived at the station. There are lots of pubs and places to eat around the area, too. Some of which are ‘predesignated’ to a set of fans, and some are mixed. Overall, it’s a stadium that allows an atmosphere to be created long before a ball has been kicked, and that’s what makes it special.

As we made our way to the stadium, we took a slightly longer way round so we could walk up Wembley Way and soak up the atmosphere. Have you even been to a final if you don’t walk down Wembley Way? It then became apparent for the first time that Newcastle fans were far more up for it than ours.

Liverpool fans are an incredibly passionate bunch – as are the Toon’s – and we’re incredibly rowdy, as well. However, upon entering the stadium, our side of it seemed flat; it felt like we’d carried the loss to PSG earlier in the week here with us. Even our fan park outside and the concourse inside – which would both usually be bouncing – were pretty quiet; perhaps that’s because loads of our fans were too busy doing lines of coke in the toilets. Was I at a cup final or a pre-season game? As the game kicked off and went through the minutes, the players had the exact same feel about them. It somehow felt like being at Wembley was an inconvenience for our players and the fans; no one was up for it. Was it because we’re so dead set on wrapping up the league that nothing else matters? Maybe, although that should under no circumstances be seen as acceptable. Our view from the seat – although up in the gods – was fantastic. My personal preference is to be directly behind the goal, as this tends to be where the liveliest of fans sit. However, the view we had was directly above the tunnel, just to the left of the halfway line. It was a view that allowed us to see the action perfectly. It’s just a shame for me that the only view was of us getting battered.

There had been plenty of warning signs in the first half for Liverpool. Tonali whipped a curling shot just wide of the post, and even Dan Burn had a free header that was gratefully collected in Kelleher’s arms. Unfortunately, the lesson wouldn’t be learnt. On the stroke of half-time, Dan Burn won his second free header of the game. This time, he didn’t miss. 0-1. Liverpool have had a tendency throughout the season to start games slowly and come out flying in the second half; I expected the same again. There was a brief spell where it looked as though it would be the case, but it wouldn’t last. Five minutes into the second half, Isak tapped home for 0-2, only to be ruled offside. Our momentary joy would be short-lived, as he smashed home from a Murphy header just moments later. For the second time today, we’d ignored the warning signs. As Slot began to ring the changes, going more and more gung-ho as the game went on, there were a few near misses – and a brilliant save from Nick Pope – that stopped Liverpool getting back into the game. Eventually, we would score. Federico Chiesa raced through in stoppage time and calmly finished to make it 1-2 after a VAR review. Ultimately, though, it was too little, too late. Newcastle had won – deservedly so – and I had driven nearly four hours to see my team muster up only two shots on target. On the plus side, at least my streak of 0-2’s since starting GHD didn’t stretch to three in a row.

As the Newcastle fans waved their flags (which had been left on their seats as a token of gratitude from their owners) above their heads in euphoria, the majority of the Liverpool fans and I headed for the exits. The last time Newcastle won a trophy, TV was black and white. Today, as they finally ended the curse by winning one again, it was Wembley that was a sea of black and white. Before leaving, we clapped the players; mainly for their efforts this season, not for their apparent lack of it in this game. Our fans were in surprisingly high spirits as we made our way out. ‘We’re gonna win the league’ echoed around the staircase and the streets, perhaps in acknowledgement that this week was merely a blip in an otherwise fantastic season.

Delays to the trains meant that the Newcastle fans were soon joining us at Wembley Central station after their celebrations. This would usually spell trouble, especially with alcohol being consumed by both fans throughout the day (or the whole weekend in Newcastle’s case). However, I was pleasantly surprised to see fans mingling together and sharing their thoughts on the game. There was a genuine respect between the two, and genuine praise being offered from the Liverpool fans. Ben and I got chatting to a dad and his son on the way back to Watford, and at sixty years old, this was the first trophy he’d ever seen his team win; you could sense the emotion as he was telling us about the previous Wembley trips he’d been to that had ended in heartbreak. I’ve been fortunate enough to see my team win everything – although it hasn’t always been rosy – so seeing this gentleman almost tear up after winning his first, I thought to myself, ‘Fair enough, I can accept this.’ This was also the sentiment that was offered by pretty much every Liverpool fan. There was no malice or bad blood; it was almost as if we were weirdly happy for them. Perhaps it’s because the two cities are so similar in personality: both working class, both vibrant and bubbly characters, both die-hard and devoted fans of their clubs. Perhaps this wasn’t so much about being ‘happy’ for them. Perhaps it was just an acknowledgement from one city to another that their people deserve this moment.

My best mate Connor is a lifelong Newcastle fan, and I have family and friends from there, too. Although I was gutted at how the day unfolded and knew we now had a hideous drive home, I couldn’t help but think of them when I left the ground. I knew what this would mean to them; I knew the jubilation they’d be experiencing. Connor, you can have this one; I’ll allow it.

As for us Liverpool fans, attention turns to the Premier League. Unless something wild happens, we’ll have our own moment in May; at last, with fans. If the Geordies fancy another party, they know where to find us.

Stadium: As mentioned, I love Wembley; It’s iconic. I do think there are better stadiums out there, however. For that reason, it’s only a four.

Location: London stadiums are awkward, as it’s so big. It’s roughly a twenty-minute journey on the tube from LKC, or the same on the train from Watford. That’s after you’ve already travelled to get to the aforenoted places. However, the location itself is packed full of pubs, bars and restaurants. It’s lively.

Atmosphere: I was tempted to mark this down because of our own fans. Instead, I’ll mark it purely on the atmosphere the Newcastle fans created. The noise when they scored was genuinely one of the loudest I’ve ever heard at a football ground. Every tackle, header and corner won were equally greeted with a ground shuddering roar.

Mascot: With it being on neutral grounds, there was obviously no mascot. Even though I was tempted to count Alexis MacAllister as the mascot – he looked like it when he was marking Dan Burn – I’ll have to give this a no score.