Croxteth, the suburb on the northeastern fringe of Liverpool, has little to be proud of. Most recently in the news when Rhys Jones, 11, was shot dead last August while cycling home from playing football, it is a sprawl of run-down estates and derelict, boarded-up buildings.

But less than a mile from where Rhys was killed, among the many items of sporting memorabilia hanging from the walls of the Stonebridge Inn, there is a small testimony to the one source of pride to the place. Wayne Rooney, whose scrawled best wishes adorn the framed Everton shirt picked out by powerful spotlights on the pub’s red walls, seems to be the only reason most fans in this part of Britain paid any attention to the Champions League final.

“He’s a local lad and he has come in here a few times,” Andy Mogan, the landlord, clad in a Liverpool polo shirt, said last night. “The Evertonians around here are all backing Wayne. He’s a good lad, but tonight we Reds hope he doesn’t do well.”

Those from the blue part of Liverpool have a different view. “All the Rooneys are from around here, just up the hill, so we all want him to do it,” Kenny Jones, a retired mechanic, said. “I sure as hell don’t like Manchester United, but I want him to do well.”

On most football nights scores of fans would pack into the Stoney, as the pub is known locally. Last night, however, the biggest pub in the area was virtually empty.

There were four screens showing the match, amply catering for the ten customers. A few regulars huddled around the bar, while a handful of hooded youths cursed around the fruit machine, their backs to the big screen.

“Most Liverpool fans I know don’t really care about the game, seeing as we’re not in it,” Mogan said. “It’s got to the stage that I personally don’t want either side to win. But unfortunately there’s got to be a winner.”

Those around the bar cared even less. Asked why they were not watching the most important match played between British clubs in living memory, the reply came instantly.

“Rubbish,” Harry Gover, 49, said, sitting underneath a framed pair of Alan Shearer’s boots. “The biggest game is when Liverpool play Everton. I’d watch the game if I was sitting at home with the missus. But here I’d rather talk to me mates. I don’t care who wins. Come back when there are some proper sides playing.”

Ronaldo’s nodded goal did little to up the tempo, with one solitary Everton fan jumping skyward. “As the saying goes, once a Blue, always a Manc,” Mogan said as two Liverpool fans headed towards the door.