First up is The Times' chief football writer, Henry Winter, whose focus is on a bond between club, supporters and manager that is uniquely LFC.
With its 5,000 tonnes of steel, Anfield’s transformed Main Stand is eye-catching from the outside, and even more impressive pitch-level backstage, in and around the dressing rooms. It is here, the heartbeat of the club along with the Kop, that the true spirit of Liverpool Football Club is writ large.
The contrast with the cramped old players’ domain was always going to be sizeable. The corridors are wider, the dressing rooms far bigger, the ceilings higher and the tunnel more cavernous. 'This Is Anfield' still sets the tone, the old sign in pride of place above the new tunnel, but there are also calls to arms on the wall, reminders of Liverpool’s great heritage, powerful sentiments to further inspire Jürgen Klopp’s players and remind opponents what they’re up against.
Architects and decorators have fashioned a gleaming structure but Liverpool will always be about the people, about flesh and blood more than bricks and mortar. Liverpool’s essence has always been about the cast of characters as well as the glittering stage. It has always been that way at Liverpool; from the time when a tailor would wander into Melwood offering to make suits, to the man selling the Football Echo in the Anfield foyer within an hour of the final whistle.
Even now, in the corporate age of football, it is not being overly romantic to suggest that Liverpool still remains about the people. It’s the member of staff lovingly folding socks in the home dressing room when I looked in on a visit last season. Clubs often talk about their DNA. Liverpool can talk about their soul.
It’s always been about the people, the fans, the teeming humanity of the Kop, celebrated by the words of Rafa Benitez quoted on the wall upstairs at Melwood: “We don’t need to give away flags for our fans to wave – our supporters are always there with their hearts and that is all we need. It’s the passion of the fans that helps to win matches – not flags.” It shows Liverpool’s affinity with fans that they have appointed “one of their own”, Tony Barrett, as head of club and supporter liaison, an inspired decision which more clubs should follow.
Downstairs at Melwood is the famous Johan Cruyff verdict on visiting Anfield, admiring how “a mass of 40,000 people became one force behind their team. There’s not one club in the world so united with their fans”.
The club is about players past and present, the sight of Jan Molby, who played a year at Ajax with Cruyff, strolling through the media enclave, invariably with a smile, and a thoughtful comment on the game. It is there in press stalwarts like John Keith, talking about his latest work on Bill Shankly or Bob Paisley. It is there in the timeless, peerless George Sephton playing his records since 1971.
As clubs grow and grow, some can uproot from the community, chasing a global market. Liverpool seem currently to be balancing both, keeping the L4 essence but also feeding the hunger for Liverpool around the world, going off on tours like the May dash to Australia to perform before 72,892 passionate followers in Sydney. I did the Sydney Harbour Bridge climb once and the guide was a Liverpool fan who talked most of the way about “Stevie and Carra”, occasionally mentioning the vista towards “Bondi and Manly”.
When I helped Kenny Dalglish with a book 20 years ago, the publisher sent me a printout of the sales around the world, and readers were everywhere, loads in Australia, New Zealand and Canada, India, Africa and Latin America. Even taking into account the Celtic and Scotland connection, and a few far-flung Blackburn Rovers fans, the over-riding theme was the worldwide interest in Liverpool.
“I’ve met Liverpool fans all around the world,” Klopp told me when I had the opportunity to interview him before that trip Down Under. He understands the responsibility of taking the club to people overseas and particularly appreciates Liverpool’s spirit. “Liverpool stands for history, fantastic stories, fantastic people working here, and who worked here, and the fans,” he said.
Klopp knew about Hillsborough. “When I came in, nobody had to tell me the story, I saw the movie. I knew about it. I’ve talked to some of the families. Now I know about how all the people are together, how the city is, and I really love how Everton is involved. We are really together. The responsibility is big on the club for doing the right things and I like how the club do things the right way.”
Klopp’s a very good fit for Liverpool, not only for his attack-minded philosophy and wonderful emotional engagement with his players, but because his personality and background at Borussia Dortmund further shaped a character who understands The Liverpool Way, the community, the people.
Spending an hour in Klopp’s company was uplifting. He’s very, very funny, full of energy, quirky, brimming with ideas, a human jukebox with four records playing at once. You don’t just interview Klopp, you challenge him and he challenges back; we even argued about the relative strength of German popular music, a brief debate. Conversations with Klopp are like John Barnes’ second goal against QPR at Anfield in 1987 – high-speed and veering joyously all over the place.
Some managers just look instantly at home, and Klopp does at Anfield. On and off the pitch, the charismatic, caring Klopp makes the perfect guardian of Liverpool’s powerful, people-driven spirit.