Dear ECHO reader,
It feels a bit self-important writing a letter like this, if I’m honest. But when I was asked, I didn’t want to miss the chance to say thank you to a city and a community that has made me and my family feel like one of their own from day one.
Let me start with something that probably sounds more suited to a letter in The Herald back in Glasgow.
I’m a proud Glaswegian. I always will be. I love telling people where I’m from. It’s part of who I am. It’s where I was born, where I was raised and it’ll forever be in my blood.
But after nine years here, I’ve realised there’s room in my heart for two cities.
Liverpool will forever define a huge part of my life.
Honestly, I think the reason me and my family settled so quickly is because Liverpool reminded us so much of home. The humour, the people, the mentality — it all felt familiar straight away. At times it genuinely feels like Glasgow and Liverpool are only separated by two different accents.
Both cities have that working-class spirit. Pride. Defiance. People who say what they think. No airs and graces. What you see is what you get.
And more than anything, both places value honesty. There’s something real about Liverpool. People here can spot nonsense a mile off, and I’ve always respected that.
I know from the outside my connection to this city will always be tied to the football club and everything we achieved together. Of course I’m immensely proud of that. How could I not be?
But for me and my wife, our bond with Merseyside goes much deeper than football.
Rachel and I arrived in 2017 as a young couple expecting our first child. Like me, Rach is fiercely proud of being from Glasgow. We actually went to school together, which probably tells you how long she’s had to put up with me.
Looking back now, we probably underestimated how daunting it was — moving to a new city, away from family, about to become parents for the first time.
But Liverpool instantly made us feel comfortable. And the incredible people at Liverpool Women’s Hospital made us feel safe at a time in our lives where that meant everything.
Over the nine years, two became five. Liverpool is where our little team was built.
A lot of teammates — mainly James Milner to be fair — loved winding me up about being captain of Scotland while having three kids born in England. But I’m always quick to correct them. They’re not English. We’ve got three proper little Scottish Scousers.
And honestly, we couldn’t be prouder of that.
The kids probably sum us up best really — Glaswegians with a Liverpool passport.
My wider family feel exactly the same way about this city.
My mum and dad come down all the time, even when Liverpool aren’t playing. They love the place. My brother and his family get here whenever they can. And my pals — most of whom I’ve known since school — absolutely love any excuse for a weekend in Liverpool.
They enjoy the nights more than the mornings these days — mainly because they’ve usually overindulged the night before. Age probably doesn’t help either, to be fair.
One of the nicest things for me has been watching the people closest to me fall in love with this city the same way I did.
The reality of football is that a lot of the time you experience places through the people around you because your own life can become so focused on training, games and recovery. So seeing my family and friends feel so welcomed here has genuinely meant a lot to me.
It probably feels strange to have gone this far without properly mentioning football.
The supporters are what make Liverpool Football Club what it is. They are the club. The connection I’ve built with them is something I’ll carry with me forever.
To be part of a team that delivered success for them will always mean everything to me. The special days and nights, the trophies, the celebrations, the parades — those memories will stay with me forever.
But honestly, I think the difficult moments matter just as much too. The ones where we fell short, where we suffered together, where the whole city felt the disappointment alongside us.
Because that’s what made the bond so special. We won together, we lost together, we laughed, celebrated, cried and mourned together. We went through all of it together.
There was always a feeling that the supporters and the team were pulling in the same direction, fighting for each other. I’ll forever be grateful I got the chance to be part of that.
And while we’re here, I should probably mention the blue half of the city too.
Getting booed at the Hill Dickinson while playing for Scotland recently was honestly one of the highlights of my year.
But seriously, the rivalry in this city is special. It matters. I’ve met plenty of Evertonians over the years and I’ll genuinely miss the arguments, the humour and the constant digs flying back and forth.
That’s football in this city. Passionate, emotional and never dull.
I’ll finish the only way that feels right — by simply saying thank you.
Thank you for welcoming a skinny wee lad from Glasgow who kicks a bag of air around for a living and making him feel part of something much bigger than football.
I said earlier that I’ve always loved saying, “I’m from Glasgow.”
What always struck me about Scousers was they said “I’m from Liverpool” in exactly the same way — chest out, proud as anything, with that look in their eye.
After nine years here, I understand that feeling far better than I ever could have imagined.
And in my own way, I share it.
Liverpool, it’s been an absolute pleasure.
The privilege was all mine.
Love,
Andy and the Robertson family.
