There’s a scene in the film The Shawshank Redemption, where Tim Robbins’ character commandeers a record player, places it in front of the prison intercom and locks the door so that Wiley, the Corrections Officer supervising him, can’t get in. Then he flips the switch and suddenly the corridors and cells of the bleakest place imaginable — the plate shop, the laundry line, the wood shop, the kitchen, the loading dock, the exercise yard — are filled with the exquisite sounds of Mozart’s Canzonetta Sull’aria. The movie script describes Andy Dufresne’s reaction to the music as follows: “Andy sinks into Wiley’s chair, overcome by its beauty”.
It isn’t long before the warden shows up and, through the glass of the locked door, commands his prisoner to “open the door…open it up!” Then “turn that off!” The smile on Andy’s face momentarily dims at this intrusion of grim reality. He sits up, shifts uncomfortably and fidgets with his hands, perhaps considering the consequences of not obeying. The blissful smile now replaced with a frown, he leans over and reaches towards the record player, then hesitates. “I am warning you Dufresne, turn that off!” comes the command again, and you’re sure that he’s about to meekly comply. Instead, he reaches for the volume and turns it up while looking the warden dead in his eyes, the smile now returned to his face.
Personally, I’m at the point where I’ve considered turning the music off and now I’m doubling down. It’s easy to be pessimistic. It’s easy to focus on the enormity of what’s at stake and how difficult it will be to achieve, and the sense of disappointment that will surely follow if Liverpool lose. But there are 2 key points to remember: (a) there’s nothing more exciting in football than your team being in a European Cup final, nothing; and (b) this is the only part of the experience that’s
guaranteed, right here. I’ve fallen prey myself to thoughts of Real Madrid dominating the game, doing what AC Milan did so many times in 2005 and opening Liverpool up at will, but honestly, what’s the point? This is not the time for worrying, this is the time for dreaming. Otherwise, if the worst does happen, the only memories we’ll be left with, out of the whole experience of Liverpool reaching club football’s biggest occasion once again, will be defined by fear and worry followed by crushing disappointment.
“Dufresne, you're mine now” the sadistic Captain Hadley leers, tapping the glass with his baton. But what does it matter if, like Andy Dufresne, we get the equivalent of 2 weeks in the hole afterwards for daring to dream? If Andy had “Mr. Mozart to keep me company”, then we too will have some worthy companions to remember fondly, whatever comes to pass on the 26th. So enjoy these moments, be proud, defiant, and hope these lads do the same. The last time Liverpool played Real Madrid, then-manager Brendan Rodgers saw fit to rest key players, a controversial move that many took to be a tacit acceptance of defeat. Whatever else it was, it suggested fear. I expect nothing of the sort this time, the only acceptance of anything by these Redmen, hopefully, being that of a big silver trophy by Jordan Henderson.