I have heard of the book a couple of years back but for some unknown reason, I just never bothered to try to get it my hands on it. Then, I heard a couple of very good reviews and my disinterest turned into a prowl for this book. An unsuccessful one at that, as the book got sold out and was out of print. Lately though, the book got republished and I just put my order.

I found myself reading it in the hours preceding the second leg of the Chelsea semi-final at Stamford Bridge, and it proved to be the best time-killer I could ever have in the circumstances. One minute, I was idle, bored and biting my nails, the next minute I found myself engrossed in Tony Evans’s work. It was like looking through the family album, reminiscing some memories while waiting for a plane carrying people in the same album, you haven’t seen for a while to land.

The story of Istanbul is now popular, legendary and immortalized as much as the Lazarus resurrection. Thousand of stories have been told, hundreds of articles written, but still you never get tired of it. Having said that, this does not make justice to the work of Tony Evans.

Evans retold the story of that particular night in Istanbul, and used it as the main plot. Around it, he weaved tales from previous European Cup triumphs, the mind state of a Scouse football fan, the evolution of football from a working class sport to what is it now and his train trip from Liverpool’s Lime Street to Istanbul.

And he has weaved all this with a skill and artistry reminiscent of Quentin Tarantino, having a similar result to Pulp Fiction.

A copy can be obtained from here, where for every sale, £1 will be donated to the Hillsborough Justice Campaign.