There are moments in life you don’t fully remember — but you never forget how they made you feel.

For me, one of those moments came quietly during the summer of 2005.
A certain football club, dressed in red, and a captain named Steven Gerrard stole my heart without me even realizing it.

Back then, I didn’t know I was at the start of a lifelong love story.
A story with Liverpool FC — filled with hope, heartbreak, belief, and miracles.

In the summer of 2005, I first heard the name Liverpool FC — the world still buzzing from their miracle in Istanbul.
At the heart of it was Steven Gerrard: the captain, the heartbeat, the legend.
His mythical performance that night sparked something in me — a connection that would never fade.

My passion for Liverpool FC wasn’t born out of peer pressure.
It didn’t come from friends, family, or fleeting trends.
It was organic, pure, and entirely my own.

It was born from watching Steven Gerrard — a player who wore loyalty, passion, and heart on his sleeve.
A player who gave everything for the badge on his chest.

Liverpool, at that time, weren’t a dominant force.
They were a “sleeping giant” — a club steeped in history but short on recent triumphs.
There were no Premier League titles to parade, no domestic dominance to bask in.
But none of that mattered to me.
I wasn’t drawn to Liverpool because they were winning; I was drawn to Liverpool because they never stopped believing.
Because they fought.
Because they had a captain who refused to let the flame die.

Being a Liverpool fan in the early 2000s meant learning patience the hard way.
There were flashes of brilliance — Istanbul in 2005, the FA Cup Final in 2006 (another Gerrard masterclass) — but no sustained dominance.

Meanwhile, rivals like Manchester United and Chelsea seemed to lift trophy after trophy.
Liverpool, on the other hand, often found themselves battling inconsistencies and heartbreak.

And strangely, that made my connection even stronger.
It wasn’t the easy road.
It wasn’t about supporting a team because they always won.
It was about loyalty. About resilience. About belief.
The same values that Gerrard embodied every time he stepped onto the pitch.

The 2013/14 season felt different from the first whistle.
Under Brendan Rodgers, Liverpool played fearless, fast, free football.
With Suárez, Sturridge, and Gerrard leading the charge, the title was within reach.
Though it ended in heartbreak, it reignited a spark in every Liverpool fan — a belief that had been dormant for years.

Looking back, my journey as a Liverpool supporter has been a tapestry of heartbreaks, miracles, near-misses, and unforgettable nights.
But through it all, the common thread has always been one name:
Steven Gerrard.

He wasn’t just a footballer who scored goals or won matches.
He was — and still is — the soul of a generation.
A player who didn’t just lift trophies; he lifted hopes, dreams, and hearts.

Today, under Arne Slot, Liverpool are writing new chapters.
Heroes like Mohamed Salah and Virgil van Dijk inspire a new wave of fans.
But for me, my foundation will always be rooted in the days when Gerrard carried a city’s dreams on his shoulders — through storm and sunshine.

Some heroes lift trophies.
Some lift entire generations.
Steven Gerrard did both.

“Supporting Liverpool was never about winning — it was about believing. And Steven Gerrard made it impossible not to believe.”

You’ll Never Walk Alone. 🔴