

An army of blue marched briskly up the Regent Road, sweating in the sunshine, but determined to reach their end point as quickly as possible.
Kick-off is still hours away, but they want to be there early, to soak it all in.
The destination is visible from miles off, its silver exterior glistening against the clear blue backdrop.
Something old, something borrowed, something blue
It is the Hill Dickinson Stadiums first game proper.
After several test events, Evertons contemporary stadium is ready.
Goodison Park, something old, still stands a few miles away, but never again will these folk watch mens first team football on wooden seats, with a restricted view, in cramped conditions.
It was quite magnificent, a real football ground. But time moves and Everton have shifted with it.
For decades, the once thriving dockland where home now stands has been neglected.
But the tide is turning, and Evertons arrival will only hasten that.
As fans pass the giant former Tobacco Warehouse, a mammoth building itself that is set to be regenerated, the excitement peaks.
Soon they pass over the Bascule Bridge. Then they are there.
To their left it stands. They stop opposite old-school pub The Bramley Moore (what an uptick in business that gaff will now experience, by the way).
Security is keeping ticketless fans a distance away from the ground and, once everyone has passed through it, almost to a man, woman and child, phones are whipped out.
Scores of snaps are taken, new memories captured. The red brick work, a nod to the original dock buildings, looks stunning, as does the metal on top.
FFT reaches for the mobile and, on inspection of the pictures taken, discovers that the results could easily pass for the type of AI-generated images that accompany the unveiling of stadium plans.
But the people in these shots are real, and they are smiling, laughing and giddy with excitement.
This is a day for community, for friends and for family.
Outside, there is music, there is food and drink aplenty, and there is merriment.
Sure, there are queues and sure, everything about the whole operation will need to become more efficient.
That will happen naturally as regulars become familiar with what is going on.
Outside the South Stand, many are virtually on their hands and knees searching for their personalised bricks amongst thousands of others.
But for a sharp-eyed staff member, one such inscription would have belonged to Jamie Carragher, courtesy of Gary Neville.
For Brightons trip, almost everyone is in position well before the teams emerge from the tunnel.
There is no bad view to be had, not one of the beams or low-hanging roofs that obstructed supporters eyelines at their previous home.
And the noise. Oh, the noise.
The acoustics are a thing of beauty. It is a stunning, reverberating wall of sound that surely can be felt at Lime Street Station, a few miles away.
Those of a decent height should be warned, though, that seats are not as roomy in other modern arenas.
The idea was to retain Goodison Parks intensity.
From FFTs vantage point, the home end appeared exactly as expected: steep. At 34.99 degrees, it is as close to the legally permissible 35-degree limit as possible.
Admittedly, we did not make the ascent but from afar, we trembled.
Not for the faint-hearted and certainly not for those with even a modicum of fear of heights.
As kick-off approached, the volume increased. The public address system may well have been the most expensive element of the �800 million project, such was its impact.
No danger of not being able to hear. The Las There She Goes, a song now synonymous with Goodison Park, was given a hearty airing.
Blue smoke filled the air.
Then the sirens began. Deafening sirens.
When the music stopped, the crowd began again. And my word was it loud. Like, properly loud.
The roar when Iliman NDiaye scored will live with FFT forever.
Sure, there were quiet times, and times when the pocket of Brighton fans could be heard above all else.
But it has the potential to be one of the most intimidating new builds in the world.
The major downside is getting inside.
FFTs tip is that if you are cutting it fine for a train, you must leave early.
The original stone walls that run adjacent to the ground have been retained, and they look fabulous.
But they mean that 50,000 spectators are all trying to get out by squeezing between a couple of natural gaps. Its the oddest of design flaws for a modern venue.
However, on Sunday, not many were in a hurry.
They had arrived early and stayed late. They wanted to saviour it, to drink it all in.
Who can blame them?
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