Liverpool Football Club plays an integral role in millions of lives around the world, and as Joel Richards reaches his 30-year milestone, he tells us what the club means to him.Do you remember the first time? I wish I could.A memory that’s supposed to last a lifetime, one that you can remember every minute detail of and recount at the drop of a hat. The first time is a momentous occasion and huge life event that should forever be looked upon with fondness, or in some cases, regret.For this writer, the first time came and went in a blur. Everything to this day feels like it was all noise and shapes, and there’s nothing tangible to hold on to.Instead, all that is left to rely on is the second-hand accounts of those who were there and what they can recall.The first time in question allegedly occurred on Saturday, August 19, 1995. At the very tender age of three years old, I am led to believe that was the day my first time occurred: my first ever visit to Anfield to watch Liverpool FC play a game of association football.As a man who loves remembering the finer details in everything that he does, the fact that I can’t remember my first time vividly is something that mildly annoys me. I wish I could recount the sights, sounds and smells I encountered on my maiden pilgrimage to a place that would become a second home to me.I would also love to instantly recall the moment I walked through the clunky turnstiles, before the slow climb up the steps of the tall and narrow staircases, where I eventually clasped eyes on the hallowed green turf in the baking August sunshine.Alas, I have none of those to fall back on.It also transpires I wasn’t the only one making my Anfield debut on that day. In the Liverpool line-up that afternoon was new signing Stan Collymore, who’d joined that summer from Nottingham Forest for a then-British record transfer of £8.5 million.Sixty-one minutes into his Anfield bow against Sheffield Wednesday, the Reds’ new No. 8 curled in a 25-yard wonder strike beyond Owls stopper Kevin Pressman to seal a 1-0 win.Again, I long for instant recall of that moment I saw my first goal scored in the flesh. The one thing above all else that everybody who attends a football match wants to experience time and time again. Do you remember the first time? I couldn’t remember a worse time…The story goes that on my way home to my Nan’s afterwards, I couldn’t stop singing our new supposed hero’s name. From there, it was safe to say that I was hooked and a lifetime romance bordering on obsession with a football club was born.From bedroom posters, numerous books and magazines, to replica kits by the dozen, and later thousands of pounds (and hours) spent travelling up and down the country and around the world, Liverpool became a true constant in my life. Fast forward 30 years later, I’m making a similar journey to L4. This time, I’m not being led by my dad or uncle(s) whilst holding on to their hand for dear life for fear of getting lost. Instead, I’m on my own slowly moving along Queens Drive in a car stuck in rush hour traffic on a Friday evening.One thing that is coincidentally similar is the weather: glorious sunshine on a day that’s been hot throughout as another new season begins. Excitement abounds.On my unnecessarily long walk from where I’ve parked up in Walton, the anticipation of Anfield looming large into view still overcomes me even at the age of 33.As I stroll through Stanley Park and hear the distant fever of fans singing in one of the nearby bars, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now on planet Earth. For I’m about to go and watch my team, the champions of England, begin the defence of their Premier League title.The old place has changed a lot since 1995, but it still takes your breath away. The major facelifts alone in the last decade have taken the capacity of this famous old arena up to 61,000, and boy does Anfield look resplendent as I walk around.However, it’s not all sunshine and lollipops. There’s plenty of sorrow in the air after the tragic loss of Diogo Jota and his brother Andre Silva in July.For all the fervour of a new campaign, Anfield is ready to pay tribute again to one of our own and our eternal No. 20 who helped win us No. 20. In desperate times, this cathedral is the perfect place to gather and remember. That said, I was still eager to get inside and make my way up to my seat. The buzz of the turnstile clicking and allowing me in remains, as does the walk through the crowded concourse, saying hello to the odd familiar face, before the ascension up the stairs and out into the stands.I never tire of scanning all around and trying to take it all in as best as I can. Oh, how I’ve missed this.Not before long, the teams walk out and the first belting rendition of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ – a song like no other that provokes so many different emotions – follows with many a tear being shed considering such devastating events earlier this summer.But, if solace can be sought, it was certainly found come the end of the night after a crazy 90 minutes that showed the best and worst of this Liverpool team.A 4-2 win over a handy Bournemouth side threw up needless stress yet provided the one thing above all else us football junkies secretly crave: a late, late winner that sends you into a euphoric high that in the moment nothing else compares to.As I reach this personal milestone of 30 years supporting a football club, it’s difficult to be so concise about something that has touched and changed your life in so many ways.From going to matches with my dad, uncles and cousins as a leisurely activity, I have also made many friends for life through the simple act of going to watch a football match.I’ve even been fortunate enough to make a living out of my love of Liverpool and football, with my CV proudly claiming previous employment by ‘Liverpool Football Club’.Granted, it hasn’t always been plain sailing and like many romances, it has had its fair share of moments where love and hate came in droves.However, I am sincerely grateful for my first time 30 years ago and the road it led me down since that super Saturday afternoon. Imagine not liking football?* This is a guest article for This Is Anfield by Joel Richards (@joelrichards91).