Cup finals can be a bit like old holiday photographs.

You never imagine in the midst of all the revelry that one day an older, wiser you will be looking back, laughing and cringing in equal measure at the naff fashion and hairstyles, bowled over by the grainy picture quality and the frighteningly quick passage of time.

For Liverpool fans who lived through May 25, 2005, the idea that such a life-affirming, epochal event could ever become an antique, catalogued and stacked alongside its four predecessors like any other European Cup win, is probably enough to bring on a cold sweat. Yet here we are on the 15th anniversary, further removed in time from Istanbul than Istanbul was from Kenny Dalglish’s 1991 resignation.

Most of the players that represented Liverpool and their opponents AC Milan on that famous night are now in their forties or even – in the case of opening goalscorer Paolo Maldini – their early fifties. They are managers, sporting directors, pundits and politicians.

The other big change, of course, has taken place in Liverpool’s trophy cabinet; the triumph in Madrid a year ago next Monday means Istanbul no longer stands alone as the centrepiece of the club’s 21st-century achievements.

It seems like an apt moment, then, to explore the enduring significance of that night, with the help of two men who were there at the Ataturk Stadium, and whose unenviable task it was to capture the meaning of surely the greatest European Cup final of all time within an hour or two of it ending.

Watch: How the miracle of Istanbul unfolded

“The realisation that in 100 years’ time people would want to know what happened on that incredible night really hit me and I couldn’t write a word!” Tony Barrett recalls.

“I had to write a 1,000-word colour piece for the Liverpool Echo, and it should have been easy, but I just sat there in the hotel looking at a blank monitor for about an hour with my deadline fast approaching. I think people must have noticed that I was struggling because someone I didn’t know put a pint down for me, and after drinking that I was able to get myself going. I still haven’t read the piece that I wrote, though, and I doubt I ever will.”

If, like Tony, you’re a lifelong Red, the work he was asked to do 15 years ago today probably sounds akin to being a professional ice cream taster or something of that ilk. His task was to fraternise with the fans all day and gauge the atmosphere in the Turkish city, from Taksim Square through to the ‘lunar landscape’ around the Ataturk, via ‘a 10-mile-long procession of taxis.’

“Everything came together – the weather was good, the beer was relatively cheap, the hospitality couldn’t have been better, the city was brilliant and our supporters absolutely lapped it all up,” the former journalist, who now serves as Liverpool’s head of club and supporter engagement, continues.

“There’s a question that used to get asked in the Guardian Weekend magazine: ‘If you could live one day of your life again, which one would it be?’ I reckon any Liverpool fan lucky enough to be in Istanbul on May 25, 2005 would pick that day – albeit not within earshot of those who would expect us to say wedding days and the days our kids were born!”

Part of the folklore of that night, before you even get to those wild six minutes in which Liverpool’s comeback from 0-3 to 3-3 was accomplished, is that the Reds were major pre-match underdogs.

But Benitez’s side had navigated arguably the tougher path through the tournament and disposed of a Juventus team in the quarters that were every bit as strong as Milan on paper, and Barrett felt confident upon arrival at the Ataturk.

“Milan had better players and their recent pedigree was clearly superior to ours, but we had a momentum that had built from the moment Gerrard scored against Olympiacos and there was a growing feeling that this was our year,” he says. “In Jamie Carragher, Sami Hyypia, Xabi Alonso and Gerrard we had a spine that was the envy of most teams in Europe during that period, and if you can’t believe in a team that’s reached a European Cup final having beaten some top sides along the way, what team can you believe in?”

Barrett made a point of going into the Liverpool end rather than the press box, where he would have encountered a good deal more scepticism about the Reds’ chances.

“I thought Milan were going to walk it, to be honest,” attests one of those who was sat there, Gabriele Marcotti. Now an ESPN senior writer, back in 2005 Marcotti was freelancing for Corriere dello Sport, among others, and well-versed in what Carlo Ancelotti’s squad had to offer.

I Rossoneri had entered the competition as Italian champions – for the first and only time in Ancelotti’s eight-year tenure – but the tournament they used to define themselves and built their seasons around was the Champions League, which they had won for a sixth time at Old Trafford in 2003.

“I think Liverpool were looked on as a team that had changed managers the year before and were still evolving,” the Milan-born journalist adds. “Rafa was building a team and had been criticised for a few things domestically that season, whereas Milan had won Serie A the year before and the Champions League the year before that, beating Juve on penalties in Manchester. That was a dire game, but Milan deserved to win it.

“And they had a manager who was very respectful and thorough. You don’t take anything for granted, especially in Italy, where we have a tendency to always get nervous about these occasions, but I think most people would have considered Milan clear favourites that day.”

Of the 120 minutes and penalties that followed, little else needs to be said here. Chances are the sounds – “hello… hello” – and sights – Hernan Crespo’s chip floating over Jerzy Dudek’s shoulder in slow motion, Steven Gerrard sprinting back to the halfway line after starting the fightback, Dudek’s jelly legs during the shootout – are seared into your memory already.

For players on both sides, life would never be the same again. The ones in red had become club legends, while the ones in white were left baffled, even beyond the 2007 rematch in Athens where a measure of revenge was gained by Milan.

“I’ll never watch that match again,” wrote Andrea Pirlo in his autobiography I Think Therefore I Play. “I’ve already played it once in person and many other times in my head, searching for an explanation that perhaps doesn’t even exist.”

Up in the press box, Marcotti was similarly gobsmacked.

“People use the cliché ‘a game of two halves’ about that final, but it wasn’t, it was a game of 114 minutes down one end, and six plus penalties down the other!” he laughs.

“But that’s the nature of football. Some of the Liverpool players had knocks, some were forced to play out of position, and some other guys were in there who – let’s face it – wouldn’t get into Jürgen Klopp’s team. But somehow they kept going.

“I don’t think Milan played badly, actually they played very well in the first half, and afterwards, all you can ask of a team is to keep creating chances. But they ran into a goalkeeper who pulled off exceptional saves, and they ran into Jamie Carragher, who was a colossus that night.”

As disbelieving Scousers were flocking in their thousands back into the city centre or towards the airport, and Tony was wrestling with writer’s block at the hotel bar, Gabriele had the privilege of temporarily gate-crashing Liverpool’s celebrations. But the scene at the team hotel was a surprisingly chilled one; the man of the hour enjoying a quiet moment of reflection with his big-eared new friend in the foreground.

“The stadium felt like it was about three days from central Istanbul, and we got there so late we’d missed a lot of the celebrations,” Marcotti explains. “Rafa and his assistants were there, but what struck me most was Steven Gerrard sat at one of those low-slung tables you see in hotel lobbies, with the cup next to him. He was totally spent, he’d given everything and hadn’t yet recovered.

“I could be remembering it wrong, it was many years ago, but in my memory it’s almost like those photos where everything in the background is blurry, and the only thing in focus is him staring at the cup. Maybe before that they’d all had a massive party and a conga line, I don’t know! There were other people jumping around and being really jubilant, but he seemed so calm, so serene, and I was struck by that image. That’s what victory looks like.”

Barrett, meanwhile, was unable to make it back to Merseyside in time for the following day’s parade, but a street party in Istanbul proved ample compensation, with those iconic images of the bus edging through huge crowds outside St George’s Hall playing on the screens of the bar they were in.

Aged 29 at the time, the victory was especially meaningful for him and a whole generation of Reds who had grown up hearing what it was like to be there when Liverpool were crowned champions of Europe, but never getting to taste that feeling themselves.

“It’s a funny one for my generation,” he reflects. “I’ve always thought that was the main reason why the atmosphere against Chelsea [in the semi-finals] was so incredible. This was our time and we were not going to let it pass.

“I’m not ashamed to say that I cried after Madrid last year and I think that was because I had my son and his friends with me, and as a dad you get to see how much it means to young Liverpool kids. But I didn’t cry after Istanbul. I think the mixture of shock, elation and euphoria was too strong for any other emotions to get a look in.”