Klopp pointed toward the tunnel.
"Tristan Hale!"
The reaction was instantaneous.
Anfield erupted, the roar thundering through the stadium hard enough to make the steel and concrete tremble.
Sixty-two thousand supporters leapt to their feet, red scarves rising above heads as the stadium dissolved into a wall of cheers and screams.
"TRISTAN!"
"TRISTAN!"
"TRISTAN!"
The roar only grew louder with every passing second until it felt like the entire stadium was trying to drag out number 22 out of the tunnel by sheer force of will.
And then the chant began.
"TRIS-TAN! TRIS-TAN! TRIS-TAN!"
.
Tristan took a slow breath at the mouth of the tunnel, hearing everyone inside and outside the stadium screaming his name as they all waited for him to walk out.
For a moment, he ignored the cameras and looked back instead.
"You've got this," Barbara said softly before kissing him and letting his parents hug him.
His mum squeezed his hand one last time.
"Go on."
Tristan exhaled.
Then he turned and walked out.
The second he stepped into the light, Anfield got even louder if possible/
"TRISTAN!"
"TRISTAN!"
"TRISTAN!"
Red scarves filled the air. Phones lit up across the stands. Every section seemed to be shouting at once.
Tristan couldn't help but smile.
He raised a hand toward one stand, then another, waving as he walked across the pitch.
The reaction only grew louder.
As he waved toward the crowd, Tristan's eyes drifted to the giant screens mounted around Anfield. Every one of them showed the same image of him at the moment wearing Liverpool red.
For a moment, it felt strange.
For three years, the football world had known him in blue. For three years, Tristan Hale and Leicester City had become inseparable. Mention one, and people thought of the other.
But that chapter was over now.
The boy in blue was gone.
Now a man in red stood.
The only thing he carried with him from Leicester was the number on his back.
22.
A number that had followed him across two lives.
Simon Mignolet had worn it the previous season, but the moment Liverpool learned Tristan Hale was coming, the number was set aside without hesitation.
Because football had always worked that way.
Some numbers become bigger than the shirt.
Seven belonged to Ronaldo.
Ten belonged to Messi.
And now there was another.
Twenty-two.
A number that no longer needed a name beneath it.
Everyone already knew who it belonged to.
For Tristan, the walk to the middle of the field felt shorter than it should have.
Every few steps another section of Anfield tried to outdo the others.
"TRIS-TAN!"
"TRIS-TAN!"
"TRIS-TAN!"
By the time he reached the stage, Jürgen Klopp was already shaking his head, laughing to himself.
The Liverpool manager opened his arms.
"Welcome to Anfield," Klopp said.
Tristan laughed.
"I think they like me."
"I think?" Klopp shot back. "Look around."
Klopp pulled him into a quick hug and patted him firmly on the back.
"Seriously," he said, stepping back. "Welcome to Liverpool. Your gonna become the greatest in this stadium."
Before Tristan could answer, Klopp guided him toward the men standing beside the stage.
First came John W. Henry.
The Liverpool owner shook his hand firmly.
"We're delighted you're here."
"Thank you," Tristan replied. "I'm happy to be here."
Tom Werner followed next.
Then Liverpool chief executive Ian Ayre.
A few brief handshakes.
A few photographs.
Nothing complicated.
Just the formalities that came with becoming the face of one of the biggest clubs in the world.
Then came the former legends of the clubs.
Steven Gerrard stood at the front of the group, with Kenny Dalglish beside him and Ian Rush just a step away. Around them were other former players who had helped build Liverpool's history across different generations.
But the man who sat second on Liverpool's all-time appearance list was notably absent for reasons that needed no explanation.
For a moment, Tristan almost felt like a fan himself seeing everyone here.
Gerrard stepped forward first.
"There he is. Welcome to the club, mate.”
Tristan laughed and pulled him into a quick hug.
"Good to see you."
"You too."
When they separated, Gerrard nodded toward the crowd.
"Not a bad welcome."
"Bit bigger than I expected."
"You're lying."
"Yeah."
The two shared a grin before Gerrard stepped aside.
Then Kenny Dalglish approached.
The applause from the stands immediately grew louder.
Even now, decades later, Liverpool supporters treated him like football royalty.
Dalglish shook Tristan's hand firmly.
"Welcome to Liverpool, son."
"Thank you," Tristan replied sincerely.
Dalglish smiled.
"We're expecting a few trophies."
Tristan laughed.
"I'll do my best."
"You'd better."
Ian Rush was next.
Liverpool's greatest goalscorer looked Tristan up and down before shaking his head.
"You know," Rush said, "when I first heard the numbers people were putting up for you, I thought they were exaggerating. But my goodness watching you play is something else, son. I hope you can pull off some miracles for us.”
Tristan nodded, smiling.
One by one, the remaining Liverpool legends greeted him.
Then came the current squad.
Jordan Henderson was first.
The Liverpool captain took one look at Tristan and immediately started grinning.
"There he is."
Tristan laughed.
"Alright, mate."
Henderson didn't even bother with a handshake. He pulled him straight into a hug.
"About bloody time."
"It's been a few hours."
"Too long."
Tristan shook his head, still smiling.
Henderson stepped back and gestured toward the stadium.
"Look at this." Henderson laughed.
"Mate, we're going to win so much with you here you're gonna get bored of lifting trophies."
Tristan raised an eyebrow.
"Bored?"
"Alright, maybe not bored."
"Good answer."
Henderson pointed a finger at him.
"I'm serious though. You've got no idea how excited everyone is."
He looked around the stadium for a moment before lowering his voice slightly.
"Welcome to Liverpool, mate."
Despite hearing the line all day, Tristan still smilied hearing it.
"Good to be here."
Adam Lallana was next.
"Finally," Lallana said as they embraced. "Do you know how many times the England lads had to listen to transfer rumours?"
Tristan laughed.
"Probably less than me."
"Not a chance."
James Milner immediately appeared beside them.
"He's lying," Milner said.
"About what?"
"Everything."
"Fair."
Milner shook his hand before pulling him into a quick hug.
"Glad you're here, mate."
Nathaniel Clyne was next.
"Welcome, brother."
Tristan returned the embrace.
"Good to see you."
"Now we don't have to chase you around every season."
"You never caught me anyway."
Clyne rolled his eyes.
"He's been here five minutes and he's already talking."
The England group laughed.
Then came Daniel Sturridge.
"My assist numbers are about to explode."
Tristan laughed.
"That's your concern?"
"Absolutely."
Sturridge pointed toward himself.
"People think I'm joking. I'm not."
They hugged before Sturridge stepped aside.
One by one the rest of the squad followed.
Simon Mignolet.
Dejan Lovren.
Joel Matip.
Alberto Moreno.
Divock Origi.
Emre Can.
Georginio Wijnaldum.
Roberto Firmino.
Quick handshakes.
Quick embraces.
Then Philippe Coutinho stepped forward.
Liverpool's star.
The player many had expected to become the face of this team.
Tristan smiled and offered his hand.
"Good to finally be teammates."
Coutinho smiled back.
"Yeah."
They shook hands sharing a brief hug. It lasted barely a second before they separated.
Tristan noticed the distance compared to the other players but today wasn't the day to think about it.
There would be time for conversations later.
Right now there were sixty-two thousand people waiting.
Klopp appeared beside him again, microphone already in hand.
The German manager looked around the stadium before turning toward Tristan.
Then he held the microphone out.
"Your club now," Klopp said with a grin.
The crowd erupted again hearing that.
"TRIS-TAN!"
"TRIS-TAN!"
"TRIS-TAN!"
Tristan took the microphone.
And Anfield immediately got louder.
He waited for everyone to calm down and settle.
But no one did.
Tristan lowered the microphone again and laughed.
That only made the supporters louder.
Another thirty seconds passed before the volume dropped enough for Tristan to try.
He lifted the microphone.
"Anfield..."
The response was immediate.
A roar crashed back at him from every corner of the stadium.
Tristan laughed.
"How we doing?"
The answer nearly blew the roof off.
The Kop answered first.
Then the Main Stand.
Then the rest of Anfield joined in until the entire stadium became one wall of noise.
Tristan shook his head, smiling.
"Yeah, alright."
More cheers.
He looked around slowly, taking it all in.
The scarves.
The flags.
The sea of red stretching in every direction.
Then he pointed toward the stands.
"First of all... thank you for coming."
The crowd cheered again.
"No, seriously."
He laughed.
"I was a little nervous this morning."
That got a reaction.
"A little worried."
More laughter.
"I was thinking maybe nobody would show up."
The entire stadium immediately booed the idea.
Tristan raised both hands.
"Yeah, alright. Clearly I got that one wrong."
The laughter rolled around Anfield.
Even Klopp was shaking his head beside him.
Tristan waited for it to settle.
Then his expression softened slightly.
"Honestly though... thank you."
He looked around the stadium once more.
"To everyone inside this stadium."
He gestured beyond the stands.
"And everyone outside it."
The roar returned instantly.
"I know what Liverpool Football Club means."
The supporters applauded.
"I know the history."
His eyes drifted briefly toward Gerrard, Dalglish, Rush and the other legends standing behind him.
"I know the players who wore this shirt before me."
Another cheer.
"And I know the responsibility that comes with wearing this badge."
His hand moved to the Liverpool crest on his chest.
"For me, this isn't just a transfer."
The stadium quieted.
"It's an opportunity."
"A challenge."
"A dream."
The applause built steadily.
"And I promise you one thing."
Now the entire stadium was listening.
"I didn't come here for a holiday."
The crowd erupted.
"I didn't come here to make up the numbers."
Louder.
"I came here to win."
The roar that followed was deafening.
The roar slowly faded into applause.
Tristan looked around the stadium once more before speaking again.
"You know..."
He smiled.
"When I was younger, Liverpool was one of the clubs everyone talked about."
The supporters applauded.
"The European nights."
"The players."
His eyes drifted briefly toward Gerrard and the Liverpool legends standing behind him.
"The history."
Another wave of applause rolled through Anfield.
"For a very long time, Liverpool Football Club set the standard."
"And that's why I'm here."
The stadium quieted.
"Not because of the history."
He tapped the badge on his chest.
"Because of what comes next."
"I've spent the last three years hearing people talk about bringing Liverpool back."
He paused.
"Back to the top."
The supporters cheered.
"Back to competing for every trophy."
Louder.
"Back to being feared."
Now Anfield was roaring.
Tristan smiled.
"Well..."
He glanced toward Klopp.
Then toward Henderson and the rest of the squad.
"I think it's time."
The noise exploded.
"I think it's time Liverpool started winning trophies again."
The roar shook the stadium.
"I think it's time Liverpool started competing for every title again."
"And I think it's time Liverpool reminded the world exactly who this club is."
The crowd erupted.
For a few seconds, Tristan couldn't even continue.
When he finally spoke again, his voice carried across the stadium.
"Last season, I promised people a miracle."
He smiled.
"This season, I'm promising something different."
The stadium quieted.
"I'm promising ambition."
He pointed toward the crowd.
"I'm promising effort."
Then toward the players.
"I'm promising everything I've got."
His hand pressed against the Liverpool crest.
"Because this club wasn't built to watch history."
The stadium fell silent.
"This club was built to make it."
The roar began building.
Tristan smiled.
"And together..."
He pointed toward the Kop.
Then the Main Stand.
Then the players standing behind him.
"We're going to bring Liverpool back where it belongs."
The crowd exploded.
.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur.
Tristan spent the next hour making his way around Anfield with a football playing tricks and whatever else was required.
Signing shirts.
Taking photographs.
Shaking hands.
Everywhere he went, the same chant followed.
"TRIS-TAN! TRIS-TAN! TRIS-TAN!"
.
Night had fallen over Anfield.
Yet somehow the noise hadn't faded.
The stadium lights illuminated the sea of red still filling every corner of the ground. Thousands remained in their seats despite the ceremony technically being over, unwilling to leave just yet.
No one wanted the day to end.
Tristan stood near the center circle, looking around the stadium as the final moments of the celebration unfolded.
The giant screens replayed highlights from the evening.
His walk from the tunnel.
The speech.
The chants.
The tricks with the football.
Every time his face appeared, another roar swept through the crowd.
He shook his head with a laugh.
This city really was insane. At this moment all regret of leaving Leciester left his soul.
Then the lights dimmed.
A murmur spread through the stadium.
Heads tilted upward.
For a second, Anfield held its breath.
BOOM!
The first firework exploded above the Main Stand.
A burst of red lit up the night sky.
Then another followed.
And another.
Golden sparks spread across the darkness above Anfield as thousands of supporters pointed their phones upward.
The entire stadium glowed beneath the fireworks.
Red.
Gold.
White.
The colors reflected off scarves, flags, and smiling faces.
Tristan looked up as another explosion illuminated the sky above him.
For a moment, he simply stood there and took it all in.
A day ago, he had been saying goodbye.
Now he was here.
The newest face of Liverpool Football Club.
The fireworks continued for several minutes before gradually slowing.
One final burst exploded above the stadium.
Then the sky fell dark once more.
And that was when the music began.
The opening notes drifted through Anfield.
Supporters immediately rose to their feet.
Scarves appeared from every direction.
Red and white stretched toward the sky.
Then the singing started.
"When you walk through a storm..."
One stand.
Then another.
Then another.
Until sixty-two thousand voices merged into one.
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone….
.
Teh_Storm, Lord Shiva and a few other guys, this is for you, thank you for the wait. Finally got my muse and dedication back.