Yes, there is something special about Anfield European nights

No midweek European football match at Anfield can be allowed to pass without some reference to ‘special nights’. There is no statistic to prove this, but it feels like this is true of Liverpool over and above any other English club playing an important European game, as though Anfield is unique in this regard.

But this can’t be true, surely? Football always seems somehow more exotic, more atmospheric when played under the illumination of floodlights; it feels like it is a connection to the past. The vivid green pitch, brighter and more colourful at night, excites. The crystal gold light cast from the sky is romantic and transportive. In no other situation do we sit or stand under a similarly illuminated environment. It is, de facto, special. Even the word ‘floodlights’ seems nostalgic, old-fashioned almost. It evokes complex-looking metal structures pointing to the black velvet sky, visible from miles away. An architectural marker for excitement and even glory. Flooding a place with light sounds like it belongs to the days of heavy industry, of factories, railway sidings and night-time steel production from blast furnaces, more than it does to 21st century games played between a couple of dozen millionaires.

So night games, whoever is playing, are always special. Going to Ayresome Park in 1972 on a Wednesday night was 100% better than Saturday afternoon. Going to Easter Road on a freezing cold night to see Hibernian nick a late win over Livingston was somehow glorious. In 1998, for a year, I used to go to see Boston United (managed by Steve Evans) play evening home games and can confirm it was still special, even at that level.

Take all of that, mix it with some serious jeopardy, like the second leg of a knockout European game and it all goes to explain the specialness of ‘big European nights’ more generally.

And yet, as Tuesday night proved once again, there absolutely *is* something special about such games at Anfield. Very special. They seem to be able to create an absolutely electric atmosphere which just feels different. Partly, I think this is because thrilling European games have such a long pedigree at Anfield. There are ghosts everywhere from David Fairclough to Tommy Smith and Graeme Souness and Kenny Dalglish and Steve Gerrard. Liverpool have always done epic very well and have venerated it better than most too. It comes back easily. It needs little provocation to get up on its hind legs and roar into the night sky once more.

So such European games as Tuesday night seem part of a continuum. Even though many other clubs have played in European tournaments and even won them, the sizzling electricity that exists at Anfield seems a unique flavour. You can hear it in the commentators’ voices. There is an edge, an adrenalin level that isn’t so prominent at most club games.

Of course, the fact Liverpool can play the most thrilling, dangerous and open sort of football, only adds to the sense of jeopardy which ramps up the excitement to another level. Again, that was proven on Tuesday night. This was no robotic win, it was tightrope stuff. No room for complacency.

There is only one other ground where the same fizzing energy comes as standard and that is Celtic Park on big European nights, which can feel very similar to Anfield in its almost manic intensity, but sadly, those skin-prickling night are fewer these days.

This isn’t to decry any other grounds or set of fans, but I’m not the only neutral who gets this special midweek European night excitement in my belly over a Liverpool game. Maybe it is best not to analyse it too much, better to just go with it. Because it is special, of that I am sure.

And if you’re not convinced, these 12 minutes make my case better than any number of words.