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The release of the season’s new kits is always something that’ll get me excited. I haven’t bought a replica shirt since the Champions League winning edition Reebok did for us; the one with the gold trim. Decent kit, that. However, I still get a buzz when the club announces our second and more recently third kits. It’s imagining where the kits will take you, what memories will be created in them, how many times Firmino will get booked for taking it off in the last minute…

Inevitably, football kits have their place in memories defined predominantly by the successes they parallel on the pitch, For me, particularly the away kits are romanticised by the passage of time & the harbouring of fond memories. They’re specific moments, they’re goals, they’re specific players from specific times in your life.

It barely took any thinking back to come up with my favourite 5 LFC away kits, more so just picking the first 5 coming into my mind.


A bleach-blonde Fowler gets played in down the left, shoulder barges Gary Neville off the ball & chips one over Schmeichel. He’s got FOWLER 23 on his back, in perhaps the greatest numbering/lettering style Adidas have produced to date. I don’t think I’ve ever loved a footballer like 8 year old me loved Robbie Fowler & I don’t think I ever will. I’ve got this one at home all boxed up nice and safe with John Scales’ signature on the back. Classic.


I loved these lads. I loved these lads with every ounce of my being. I loved this shirt. I loved this season. I loved Gerard Houllier. I loved Robbie Fowler scoring against Alaves in that mad Uefa Cup final & Michael Owen destroying that incredible Arsenal side.


It’s the lovely Titi Camara scoring away at Arsenal after a young Stevie puts him through. It’s hugs all round. It’s Eric Meijer and Titi Camara up top. It’s nostalgic stuff. What a kit.


It’s Andrea Dossena lobbing Edwin Van Der Sar to make it 4-1 at Old Trafford. FOUR. It’s Stevie kissing the camera. It’s that mad period when we were the best team in the world, hammering the Mancs and then Real Madrid in the space of a week. It’s vintage Rafa.


A fresh memory, but one I’m sure will live for a long time. We seemed to hammer everyone in this kit. Lovely Mo Salah taking the piss, but doing it in the most pleasant, courteous manner only he can.

Allez, Allez, Allez