Liverpool’s voyage to Japan proved a rare opportunity for thousands to see their club live. Supporter Martyn Hatori-Singleton offers his first-hand experience of a day long in the making.
I’ve been a Red since waking one morning about the age of four or five and finding a button badge on my bedside table that boldly declared in enamelled grandeur, ‘Liverpool are magic’.
Surely, any team that can make badges magically appear must be special…and so it has proven. Together with my dad and uncle, I’ve been a Red since before time began.
That was Belfast, Northern Ireland, about 45 years ago.
Ups, downs and some mid-table doldrums later, here I am in Japan 2025. To say a lot has changed is probably an understatement.
From watching all manner of live games on TV for free (remember that!?), to VAR, social media, global fanbases, and then The Predator, Ordem 4, Bosman transfers, 4-3-3s and who could forget… gegenpressing!
So, here I am living and working in Japan for over 20 years. Although my relationship with football didn’t get off to the best of starts here.
Waking up to the champions
May 5, 2005, and I’m in a pub in West London for a farewell party because three days later I am moving to Japan.
If you’re reading this, you probably already know what happened that night and thanks to a clear Luis Garcia goal, at the full-time whistle, I was dancing and hugging a stranger, much to the bemusement of my non-football supporting work colleagues.
May 20, 2005, and I’m in a small town in Northern Saitama, Japan, where it seems football has never existed, never mind trying to see the greatest-ever Champions League final on a telly.
I woke the next morning to a superlative all-caps email from my dad: ‘!!!!CHAMPIONS!!!!’
And so, I have followed from the east and had many beautiful encounters throughout my years here.
“You like football?”, “Who do you support?”, to straight to the point, “Liverpool?” have generally been the beginnings of many a conversation and friendship.
When it was announced that the team would be visiting Japan, I immediately pencilled and highlighted the date on my calendar for when tickets would be on sale.
Together with my fellow immigrant Liverpool brother, John, we logged in and, after a tragicomic 30 minutes of false dawns, we endured to secure tickets.
I have since gathered that there were quite a few supporters disappointed in this process. Given that it was announced as being sold out soon after, it was curious to see 67,000 announced as the match attendance at the 72,000 capacity Nissan Stadium.
Anyway, game day.
Hits and misses
I live in Nagano, central Japan, some 150 miles from the Nissan Stadium in Yokohama.
My daughter created a special Liverpool-themed Omamori (Japanese good luck charms) to protect me on my journey.
Ah, this is football! So up at 5am, I was on the only bus of the day from our small village into town at 7.25am. One bus and four trains later, at 3pm, I was stepping out into the scorching summer heatwave of Yokohama.
Liverpool supporters were already out and about. Buzz!
After checking into a hotel and meeting up with John, we headed to the stadium.
It was the proverbial sea of Reds everywhere, although given that there was a tsunami warning in effect along the Pacific coast of Japan, this might not have proved to be the best analogy. Thankfully, it proved otherwise.
As the sun set over the Nissan Stadium, we found our seats high up in the rafters. At ¥16,000 (£80) for attic seats, this was quite the money-spinner. Ticket prices were as high as ¥150,000 (£750) for VIP experiences. A guesstimate average ticket price would probably come to around ¥40,000 (£200) for the night.
To give some context, the average ticket price in Japan for J-1 weekly football matches is around ¥6000 (£30).
Nonetheless, the mighty Reds were here, on the back of a Premier League-winning season at a stroll. And about 90% of the attending crowd were dressed in red and here to cheer on our team (or so we thought).
As soon as we had taken our seats both John and I looked at the pitch and then each other. “Is that a pitch?” was the uncensored summary of our exchange.
It looked like a rodeo had just departed. Jeez, ball dropped on that one somebody. However, the hand fan and LFC water bottle were appreciated. Ball picked up, somebody.
While the players were still warming up, the PA suddenly kicked into life with “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and the crowd duly did their best to sing along. Only another 25 minutes to kick-off.
Box ticked for correct song. Box left unchecked for timing.
Ten minutes later, it was announced that Ian Rush was laying a tribute for Diogo Jota. The crowd were asked to turn on their phone lights and as the stadium lights were turned off, it gave a beautifully eerie effect.
A single light on the pitch then found Rush placing a wreath, maybe? I don’t know because the screens in the stadium had no close-up and the announcer was difficult to hear.
Points for tribute. Minus points for being somewhat badly done.
(I heard later that OLSC Japan had made repeated requests for a place to lay tributes outside the stadium but were ignored. Unfortunate, but a football league, in this case the J-League, ignoring fans’ requests… sounds all too familiar.)
Nonetheless, thank you for allowing some form of honouring his memory together.
Beginnings of new friendships
The game then got underway, and am I alone in this, but when the opposition team makes a good pass or scores, do we applaud these moves? Oh well, it seems so in Japan.
John and I exchanged many a bemused look as the away end of the stadium proceeded to applaud and congratulate the home team, Yokohama F. Marinos, on any incursions made into the Liverpool third of the pitch. Including the goal!
Full marks for sportsmanship. Question marks for tribal allegiances.
With Liverpool deservedly winning after an iffy first-half showing and first senior goals in red for Wirtz, Nyoni and Ngumoha (who was all the talk after the game), we bid farewell to our team from these sweltering shores and made our way to a local watering hole, where they were showing the replay of the game, of course.
It was packed to the rafters with Reds supporters and we ended up probably having a better time there than we did at the stadium. Chatting, laughing, drinking, singing and exchanging numbers.
Hopefully, the beginnings of new friendships. Bonding through the beautiful game.
So, thank you Liverpool FC, for making it out here, regardless of possible translation errors. Had I ever imagined seeing Liverpool play in Japan? Somehow not. But hey, Liverpool are magic!
YNWA!
* This is a guest article for This Is Anfield by Martyn Hatori-Singleton.
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