May 27th, 2018, I was sprinting through Seoul’s streets, desperate to catch the last train to Hongdae. The clock was ticking, and somewhere in Ukraine, Liverpool was preparing for their biggest night in years, the European Champions League Final.

The streets were filled with Red scarves everywhere – wrapped around necks, some new and well ironed, others worn and loved. This was our moment, I felt. After years of watching Europe’s elite from the sidelines, Klopp had brought us back where we belonged. Then came the match. The errors. The tears. The mistakes playing out in slow motion on the screen as dawn broke over Seoul. The summer sun rose at 7 AM, harsh and almost mocking, casting light over our broken dreams.
A night that started with excitement and hope turned into despair and tears. But among the chaos of sadness, there was a little kid not more than 10 along with his dad holding their Liverpool scarves singing the famous “You Will Never walk alone”. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but that scarf stayed high. That’s when it hit me – this simple piece of fabric meant everything. It’s not just an identity, that scarf has seen every high and low, joy and tear. Scarves are a way to show your passion, your voice. Since that morning, I’ve collected a scarf from every match I’ve attended. Each one tells a story, holds a memory in my heart and a place on my bedroom wall.
It also got me thinking – cricket, for all its glory, misses this. There’s nothing quite like a football scarf, nothing that captures the same raw emotion, nothing you can hang on your wall years later that instantly takes you back to that moment, that match, that feeling. Now when I look at my wall, one side tells countless football stories through scarves, while the other side – dedicated to cricket – stands strangely bare. Years of IPL matches, World Cup moments, and intense rivalries, yet nothing to show for it. No memory-keeper to pass down, no piece to hang in my louvre. That morning in Seoul didn’t just give me a story to tell; it sparked an idea. Why shouldn’t cricket fans have their own piece of history to hold? Maybe it’s time to bring this beautiful tradition to IPL and cricket, to create something that turns spectators into participants, that gives fans their own piece of the game to take home. Because sometimes the greatest traditions start with a simple question: why not?
Brilliant