I love the number five.
People in my family: Five.
Fingers on the hands typing these words: Five.
Good bands: Ben Folds Five, Five For Fighting, Maroon 5.
Great Bruce Willis film: The Fifth Element.
Favourite book series of my childhood: The Famous Five.
But most of all, I love the number five because that is how many European Cups have been won by my club, mighty Liverpool.
It's been a tough couple of decades being a Liverpool fan because there are constant reminders that we have not won the league since 1990, back in the days when it was called the first division.
Nineteen years. NINETEEN.
That is far, far too long for a club of Liverpool's stature.
It burns, burns, burns that Manchester United have caught up to Liverpool's record 18 titles and both Arsenal and Chelsea have out-shone Liverpool, at least domestically, since I turned 13.
But thank god for Europe.
For when it comes to Europe, I still have major bragging rights over my Man United and Arsenal and plucky little Burnley friends.
Liverpool, as I mentioned above, have won no fewer than five European Cups (yeah, it's called the Champions League now, but you know what I mean).
That puts the Reds third on the list of multiple winners, behind Real Madrid (nine) and Milan (seven) and ahead of Bayern Munich and Ajax (four each), Barcelona and Alex Ferguson United (three) and Juventus, Benfica, Inter Milan, Porto and Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest (two
each).
So I love European nights. I love that I get to forget Liverpool's struggles at home and remind people of the club's glorious history in Europe.
Our first win was in 1977 - and is it any coincidence that your Liverpool blogger was born that very year? - when Liverpool embarked on a run of four European Cups in nine years by beating Borussia Moenchengladbach 3-1 in the final in Rome.
Further triumphs in 1978 (beating Brugge 1-0 at Wembley), 1981 (beating Real Madrid 1-0 in Paris) and 1984 (beating Roma on penalties in Rome) followed in an extraordinary period of Liverpool dominance that, dammit, I was too young to remember.
Liverpool also reached the 1985 final, but their 1-0 loss to Juventus at Heysel was overshadowed by the tragic deaths of 39 supporters, mainly Juventus fans, when part of the crumbling stadium collapsed under the pressure of rioting Liverpool fans.
That led to a ban from European competition for all English clubs for five years, six for Liverpool. My beloved Liverpool became the object of hate for a lot of English fans, whose clubs were banned because of the actions of my club's supporters.
Twenty years later, a miracle came along.
In Istanbul, on May 25, 2005, Milan held a 3-0 lead over Liverpool at half-time in the final of the renamed Champions League.
Game over, surely.
I watched in horror in a flat in Brockville as Paula Maldini gave the Italians a lead in the first minute, and Hernan Crespo added two goals in the last 10 minutes of the first half.
Remember, this was hardly one of the great Liverpool teams. Traore, Kewell, Garcia and Baros were no Neal, Callaghan, Dalglish and Rush.
But mine is a club that doesn't know how to quit. Inspired by Steven Gerrard, Liverpool scored three goals in six minutes, and a large bespectacled chap in Dunedin's hill suburbs screamed like a little girl.
To penalties the final went. Liverpool's Jerzy Dudek did the crazy legs a la Bruce Grobbelaar, and the trophy was ours. Again.
The tournament's changed a great deal, of course, thanks to the influx of extremely large pots of money.
They call it the Champions League, when the top FOUR English clubs qualify. And yes, it is a slight source of shame that Liverpool qualified for the 2005 tournament having finished fourth in the Premier League, and had sunk to fifth by the time the Miracle of Istanbul had rolled around, forcing UEFA to create an exemption so the 2005 champions could play in the 2006 tournament.
But that's all by the by. The important thing to know is Liverpool know how to win in Europe.
Hopefully, they'll rediscover how to do the same at home.
