Why I couldn't resist China trip

Don't believe the hype. Don't believe that an absence of European football is a good thing for the club. How can it be?

A club whose reputation rests largely on its magnificent achievements in European club competition should be competing in Europe every season. In fact, since we first qualified in 1964 we've only failed to qualify four times. Each time I was gutted; I was ashamed. And yet many supporters have welcomed it.

They cite several reasons. "We can concentrate on the league; keep our best players fresh," is one claim I particularly disagree with. As if concentrating on getting to the European Cup final harmed Manchester United's league prospects last season. Do me a favour.

Anyway, we rested our better players during last season's campaign, fielding youngsters and players on the periphery of the first team for almost every match. If anything, a European campaign in which you can blood the youngsters should be welcomed as it allows squad players to gain invaluable experience. No, this club exists to win trophies and you don't do that by ducking out of competitions.

"Thursday night, Channel 5" was a taunt deemed so belittling that we were serenaded with it by opposition fans who'd wet their pants if their team even appeared on YouTube. The UEFA Cup, we were being told, is for losers. It's not worth the effort. Well, it didn't seem that way in 2001, or 1976, or 1973. Those campaigns were stepping stones to greatness for the club; who knows where it might have led in 2002 had Didi Hamann stayed on the field in Leverkusen.

But no - vested media interests have frozen everything bar the Champions League out of the limelight. By casting their intense glare on the glamorous extravagance of the European Cup, they conveniently kill all interest in what's happening in the shade. The UEFA Cup thus becomes a poor consolation prize that even so-called 'professional' footballers want to jump ship to avoid. Like spoilt brats at Christmas, fans and players alike now fight over only the biggest and shiniest presents; what gets lost in all of this is the true spirit of things.

By now you might have guessed I'm a little irked at the lack of European football next season. As the final whistle blew at Villa Park it struck me that there'd be no Braga next year; no Bucharest or Lyon; no Madrid or Istanbul. What the hell was I going to do?

We'd talked of picking another team whose progress we'd follow in Europe and who we'd travel abroad to 'support' for one or two games. But we couldn't agree on which city to visit, which place held the best prospect for a good time  - and that crystallised what it was we'd really be missing: not the games, but the midweek trips to exotic, far-off locations.  

The idea of following another team thus took a back-seat (at least until the qualifying rounds were out of the way and we could plan something for the group stages) and we concentrated instead on the pre-season games. A stalwart of many a young man's baptism following the Reds abroad, a pre-season game in Monchengladbach or a cheeky trip to a French seaside town promised several days of beer, sunshine and song. There was a certain cachet in attending these games and the completists often cited them as the best fun of the season. Having already seen us play Valerenga, the idea of going to that game didn't hold much appeal (the prohibitive price of a pint in Norway didn't help either). We heard rumours of a match in Spain, but it failed to materialise. And Rafa's favourite, the training camps in Switzerland, seemed highly unlikely as well. Which left us with one option: China.  

My regular travelling companion Mike 'Passepartout' Smith found flights to Guangzhou for only £150 more than I paid to go to Naples for three days last season. Within a week he'd sorted out an itinerary that promises three days in Guangzhou for the game against Guangdong Sunray Cave, then a day and night in Hong Kong (where I'll visit my niece and nephew, Conor and Caoimhe - both Liverpool fans), followed by a flight to Malaysia and five days in Kuala Lumpar whilst we take in the Malaysia XI match.  

There had been rumours of a third game in Korea but we'd decided that was a game too far and didn't book any further flights. Others - similarly fearing a whole year with no foreign football - took a chance. Whilst at the Chinese Visa Office we met a well-known, travel-hardened Red from Kirkby queuing for seven visas, all of whom had also booked for the now non-existent game in Seoul.

"You still going? What will you do?" I asked him.

"Dunno", he replied, "probably just have a pint ..."

"Okay then - see you in China!" I added, wondering what the poor inhabitants of Seoul would make of these bored Reds with far too much time on their hands in the South Korean capital.

So now with the visa in my passport, the countdown has begun. Mike (who hasn't missed a competitive game abroad since Panathinaikos in 1985) and I will meet up at Schipol Airport with Anna from London (who for one so young already seems to be known by almost every travelling Red in Europe), Andy B (imagine a young George Harrison who lives on shots of Jagermesieter), and Andy W (who, terrified of missing the ash-cloud threatened game against Atletico two seasons ago, drove all the way to the Cerveceria Alemana in the Plaza Santa Ana, Madrid). There we'll be joined by several of the infamous Irregulars for an overnight flight to Hangzhou Xiaoshan International Airport, south of Shanghai, followed by a three-hour internal flight south to Guangzhou (ex-Canton). There we'll meet up with ex-Irregular 'The Major', who has lived in the far-east for several years, and whose local knowledge and commanding presence will smooth our path all the way to Malaysia. It promises to be one to remember.

Oh, and if whilst we're away the club announces a game in Valencia, would you do me a favour? Get me a ticket!

Mackin's top five memorable trips abroad with LFC:

5.  Bayern Munich. 1980-81 European Cup semi-final. Our previous semi-finals in 1977 (FC Zurich) and 1978  (Monchengladbach) had been far from tense affairs, but following a 0-0 draw at Anfield, we were up against it. Bayern had won the competition three times in the previous decade and were packed with stars from the German national side. Thousands of Reds travelled to Bavaria for a raucous night in the Olympic Stadium. We lost King Kenny to injury early on but when Ray Kennedy put us 1-0 up near the end - well, there hasn't been many better nights abroad. Howard Gayle, mate, take a bow!

4. Vladikavkaz. 1995-96 UEFA Cup. A war zone. A plane escorted in to land by Russian MIG fighters. Chechen rebels' gunshots in the hills. Change from a round of beers was two batteries and a walnut. A handful of travelling Reds with the banner 'It's a long way to Vladikavkaz, It's a long way to go, It's a long way to Vladikavkaz, for the greatest team I know - Liverpool!' Just about sums it up. For difficulty of getting there, attendance at this one could only be bettered by Dinamo Tbilisi in 1979 or Trabzonsor in 1976 (maybe Ploesti in 1966).

3. Galatasaray. Istanbul, Feb 2002. Second group stage, Champions League. The first game for an English team against Galatasaray since the frightening visit of Leeds Utd, and the violence-torn UEFA Cup final against Arsenal in Copenhagen. Passed without incident largely due to a Liverpool contingent that refused to be intimidated and who refused to be seen to be intimidating. We'd come for kebabs, Raki and football. Summed up with the banner in the Al Sami Yen stadium: 'Welcome to Hell my *rse! If you think this is hell you should try the Grafton on a Friday night.' Loudest crowd we ever heard abroad - until we went to Besiktas in 2007.

2. Dinamo Kiev. 2001-02 Champions League. A Russian mafia run hotel next door to an archetypal Communist Bloc concrete bowl of a stadium. Inedible food and vodka that was cheaper than bottled water. 350 Reds corralled into the ground two hours before kick-off meant trips to the toilet (outside the stadium) warranted the accompaniment of two armed soldiers. These same soldiers would then sell you cans of beer. When you see street urchins trying to eat a still-flapping pigeon you know you've come somewhere really strange.

1. Tokyo-Yokohama, Japan 2005, World Club Championship. Quite simply the weirdest trip ever. Completely unintelligible language and a chaotic maze of a Megacity induced an initial terror of straying more than 200 yards from the hotel. Until the third beer kicked in - then we were off. Quite how we got home some nights remains a mystery. But I'll cherish the memories of curry and noodles at 5am, washed down with warm Sake, whilst serenading the chef with Beatles' songs. 25 quid for a programme and we were robbed in the final.

John Mackin runs the Red All Over The Land website. Stay tuned to Liverpoolfc.tv for news of how John and his fellow fans get on in Asia.