If Amanda and Peter end up with a failed marriage, I don’t want any of the credit or blame. If it’s a horrible match and there’s animosity and angst and anger, that’s on them. In no way could the demise of their marriage be due to a missing wedding gift.

It’s a gift they didn’t expect. And maybe they don’t even know today – a month later – that they missed out on a pile of cash.

READ MORE: The Remote Control & The Beautiful Game by Jeff Cutler
SUBSCRIBE & FOLLOW: YouTube / X (Formerly Twitter) / Instagram / TikTok / Patreon / BlueSky

Not a literal pile of cash, like in the vault of Scrooge McDuck. That’s ridiculous. But they did miss out on enough paper currency to pay for a high-end dinner or some other adventure worth $140.

OK, that’s not life-changing money, but it’s significant. Enough for a nice pair of shoes, an expensive lunch, a good case of wine, diapers for the newborn for a while (unless this loss completely borked their future life together).

Rain In Liverpool – Litter At Our Feet

This IS a soccer column. This IS an LFC-focused piece. And there are some background facts you’ll need before we really roll into the YNWA and chants and songs. We need to focus on Amanda and Peter. We need to focus on Liverpool.

After arriving in the UK, my wife and I high-tailed it to Bath, England, and then drove up to Liverpool. There are escapades in the middle – Wales, wild animals, timber trucks, tiny roads, and the quest for sheep – but for AmericanScouser.com, the story stays in Liverpool.

So, we’re in Liverpool, right near Lime Street Station, in the thick of random attractions – mostly focused on the Beatles. The streets are gritty. Less polite people would tell you the streets are dirty and there’s a rough air about the city. You say potato…

Regardless, on the morning before my Anfield tour – (see, there is an LFC slant to this story) – we decided to wander toward the waterfront and the shoppes. We also planned to grab a hop-on, hop-off bus tour of the city.

Out We Go!

Dressed for rain, wind, and blowing litter, we strolled into the lobby of the hotel. The flowered carpet – designed to hide stains of all kinds – looked as if it had a rectangle cut into its surface. So as we approached the cutout, I slowed and bent to ‘tie my shoe’.

That cut-out section was a 20-pound note! That’s about $27 to you and me in the United States. I snapped it up and took a close look. It was crisp and new and very real. And nobody was around. Nobody.

There was nobody outside waiting for a cab. Nobody is strolling around in the rain. We saw nobody. Even the front desk seemed half-staffed, one woman doing something behind the counter and looking up every so often.

We paused. That’s a pretty good find. A mid-denomination bill. Just the elixir to defray the cost of a couple of drinks or a pasty or two at the stand by the waterfront. Smiling at our luck, we strode into the rain and slick streets.

Meandering down the road, over wet bricks and down side streets, we found ourselves halfway to the waterfront and right at a tube station exit. Pausing to pull on a rain poncho (we hadn’t yet been smart enough to carry our umbrellas on every walk), I handed my bag and camera to my wife.

Wriggling into the plastic, I spied a wet envelope on the ground. Popping my arms through the sleeve holes, I pulled the hood over my head and bent down to look at the letter.

But It Wasn’t A Letter – It Was A Gold Mine!

OK, it WAS a letter, technically. It was an oversized card in a foil-lined envelope that didn’t have an address on the outside. I THINK it had Amanda and Peter’s names on it, but I can’t remember right now.

Picking it up and pulling the card out, I felt a thick bundle of little rectangles inside the card. Before they could fall out into the wind and rain, and subsequently blow all over Liverpool, I closed the card tight and whispered loudly to my wife – THERE’S MONEY IN HERE!

We were not subtle, but we didn’t get immediately knifed or mugged or even threatened. In fact, nobody paid any attention. I couldn’t fathom the situation…But I did my best to put it all in perspective.

Amanda and Peter were getting married in Liverpool or nearby. One of their guests went to a bank and withdrew a pile of 20-pound notes and stuffed them into a card and then stuffed that into a fancy envelope.

Then, to the best of my imagination, these guests of Amanda and Peter were so flippant about the life commitment their friends were making, that they threw caution and 100 pounds to the literal wind. At this point, even if I solve this mystery, I’m going to fully blame Billy, Katie, Beth, and Owen – as those were the names signed inside the card.

Semantically Gifted

I’m a stickler for the rules about 99% of the time. Seriously. I get angry when people use an apostrophe incorrectly. I regularly urge the police to ticket cars that are parked more than 12 inches from the curb or those that are parked over the line in their space. It’s not like a corner kick; over the line is bad in parking.

SHOP THE AMERICAN SCOUSER COLLECTION TODAY

And I default to doing the ‘right’ thing when I can.

For the next 20 hours, I was on the Internet doing searches via AI, looking into wedding registries and The Knot and social calendars…and we even grilled the front-desk and function people at the hotel. But nowhere could we find an Amanda and Peter getting married or having a reception. We couldn’t find the family of Billy, Katie, Beth, and Owen (and I even looked for two couples who might have chipped in 50 pounds each).

None of it has worked. And AmericanScouser and the LFC supporter fanbase are their last hope. If Amanda is to accomplish her dreams, and if Peter is to focus only on making Amanda happy (this is how all marriages work, according to my wife), we’re going to have to find these people.

Here is an image of the card and the inscriptions/signatures/notes. If you run across Amanda and Peter, point them my way. I’m not saying the money is still around. I’m pretty sure I spent it on the admission to Anfield and on eight or nine scarves. But it would be good to find out their side of the story.

If the story is good enough – and if they can produce statements from Billy, Katie, Beth, and Owen, I’ll probably send them a wedding gift. But remember, the one-year rule ends August 30, 2026.

YNWA