Back from South Africa and entering my final year of journalism at John Moores University it is hard to believe that my student days are almost at an end.
No more tax dodging, no more acting the maggot, time to grow up now. It's third year, head down, dissertation, graduate, get a degree, get a job, and join the rest of society on the long and inevitable road to the middle.
You'll forgive me if I'm not exactly jumping for joy at this prospect. It seems like only yesterday I was doing pub-crawls, beer bongs, defacing the walls of my student halls and forgetting I’d done any of this in my first year.
Now I am in third year a more grown up Hugh must come to the fore.
Which is why when the lads threw out the idea of heading to Leeds for Liverpool's Carling Cup clash with the Yorkshire men for a day long session, followed by watching the game in the home end and then heading out on the razz in Leeds I really should have said no.
But the party animal within said yes. In all there were twelve of us. A work assignment meant some of us had to swerve the day long session.
It was probably just as well as the lads who had gone up at midday were all worse for wear when we met up with them outside Elland Road with five minutes to kick off.
The total disorganisation of the trip meant we were 15 minutes late getting into the ground after we had to walk halfway around it to pick up our tickets.
There were 12 of us, four Liverpool, three Mancs, two Arsenal, one Evertonian, one Sheffield Wednesday, and just one Leeds. The majority were gunning for Leeds and us Reds were naturally keeping our heads down throughout.
I was even doing my best to engage in pro Leeds banter, chatting with home fans at half time when it was 0-0, and saying how “we” could get at the likes of Liverpool’s Italian flop Andrea Dossena.
In the end “we” didn’t and myself and my fellow Reds kept our heads down when David Ngog scored the winner for Liverpool. Cheeky winks and smiles all round and then back to egging Leeds on.
This was only a third round Carling Cup tie. I dread to think how Reds feel when they’re in the Gwaldy’s Street on derby day and have to stem their joy when Fernando Torres does the business.
On our way out of the ground there were plenty of young pups looking for trouble and police were dispersing crowds outside McDonalds.
Then about 30 lads in hoodies steamed past us, hurling bottles at the buses full of Liverpool fans that were speeding onto the motorway. Not a nice thing to see.
But we were off to Leeds city centre to get blotto, and then on the 2.36am bus back to Manchester Piccadilly to wait for a 4.40am train back to Liverpool Lime Street.
Piccadilly was surreal as 12 drunk, tired and emotional lads waited in this empty train station. We entertained ourselves by going up and down an escalator until a lad came over the intercom and told us to get off.
We rolled into Lime Street at around 5.30am. I was up again a few hours later for a day of lectures. I rolled into uni still half cut and looking very much like a fresher.
I don’t think any of my fellow third years appreciated the smell of ale off me but with only a few months left of student life, I might as well enjoy it while I can!
Making New Year's non-resolutions.
(Sun 17/01)
Taking over the Mersey trains
(Thu 05/11)
A very alternative trip to Leeds
(Thu 15/10)
South Africa's modern day apartheid
(Thu 20/08)
Working in a Cape town nursery
(Tue 28/07)
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