The Long and Winding Road to Anfield: Part 1

I probably expended more effort in finding a ticket to this past weekend's Liverpool v Fulham match than was rational. But I've been a Liverpool supporter for about six months now, and there's no guarantee that I'll ever be in such close proximity to England again. I couldn't go back home without making a journey to Anfield. Earlier this fall, I chose a match to attend and started looking into how to acquire a ticket. According to the team's website, I'd need a Fan Card first. I posted off the necessary application and proof of address in September, allowing more than the required four weeks of processing time before the tickets I wanted went on sale.

Then the UK postal strike happened.

My plans were now in shambles. I thought the tickets were going on sale on 19 October. When I hadn't received my Fan Card by the 15th, I checked my British bank account to see if the fee had been processed. It had, so I knew my card was on its way, likely held up by the strike. I emailed LFC Customer Services to ask if they could give me the information I'd need off my card so I could order tickets without having the physical piece of plastic. I never received a response, so I tried to call customer services a few days later. That also proved fruitless, as I waited on hold for 15 minutes and succeeded only in burning all my mobile phone credit.

I eventually realised that the tickets going on sale on the 19th were only available to Priority Ticket Scheme members. I wouldn't be able to order tickets until 25 October. That bought me nearly an extra week before my Fan Card needed to arrive, so I held out hope for that. I eagerly and slightly desperately checked the post each night, sifting through the envelopes compulsively. I sorted through the pile with particular urgency the night before the tickets went on sale and felt a wave of disappointment when I realised my card hadn't arrived in time.

I checked the website again to see if I had any other recourse. It appeared that you didn't need to have a Fan Card if you purchased a ticket over the phone, so I decided to try that. The only barrier was the €0.50 per minute I'd be charged to ring England from my mobile, plus whatever fee the box office charged per minute. I asked if it would be OK for me to call from the land line at work over my lunch hour instead. The person who granted permission speculated that I'd have an easy time getting tickets since the Reds were playing so badly at the time.

I rang up and encountered a message stating that on a certain specified date, the box office had changed their number to XXXXXXXXXXX and I should ring XXXXXXXXXXX rather than XXXXXXXXXXX. Unless, of course, I was calling from overseas. Then I should continue to dial XXXXXXXXXXX (the number I'd just rung) until further notice. So essentially the message was not applicable to me at all. Next I was prompted to push 2 for Liverpool v Fulham, then 1 to confirm that I would accept a single ticket or restricted view. The hold music had just begun when a cold, clipped automated voice informed me, "We're sorry (she totally wasn't), all our operators are busy. Please try again later." Click. I stared at the receiver, which was now emitting only a dial tone. I couldn't even wait on hold? I had to keep calling back over and over and being charged to listen to the message that didn't apply to me? Yes. I did.

I kept phoning back with no success until the end of my lunch hour. Then I finally made it through...to a hold system. I stayed on the line until a different automated voice informed me that I was number 68 in the queue. It was my turn to hang up, distressed and disgusted. I decided to call back the moment the box office opened the following day, hopefully gaining a better position in the queue.

I rang up promptly at 8.30 the next morning while I was walking to work. After suffering through the long-winded number-change message, I listened for the Liverpool v Fulham option. It wasn't there. I hung up, suspecting and fearing that the tickets were gone. I pulled up the website as soon as I reached my desk to check. When I clicked through to the proper page, I saw bright red letters glaring out from under the Liverpool v Fulham heading: SOLD OUT.

But I was not giving up so easily. The boyfriend of one of my friends here earned himself tickets to the Liverpool v Arsenal match by calling to complain when his Fan Card didn't work. I decided to see if the same strategy would work for me. I explained the situation to the woman who answered, and she had absolutely no sympathy. She said that it wasn't their fault; there had been a postal strike. Besides, having a Fan Card wouldn't have given me any advantage. I think the key in such situations is to become so irrationally angry that the rep is willing to do anything to make you hang up, but I just couldn't muster it.

From there, I emailed one of my former coworkers whose grandfather has season tickets. Or used to. I learned then that he'd sold them off years ago. I also had a friend in London "put on his corporate pants," as Jackie described it, and see what he could find for me. He came up with a corporate ticket for £170, which I obviously had to turn down. Searches on Gumtree, ebay and Craigslist turned up nothing, and a connection at my work also failed to come through. To add insult to injury, I came home to find my Fan Card waiting for me five days after the match sold out.

I was out of ideas by then, but I'd already booked a flight out of Liverpool rather than London. All that was left for me to do was go to Anfield with hope in my heart that I could sort something out on match day.