The events of the night are worth recapping. Rafa Benitez’s team were heavily outgunned by the Italian side in terms of talent. This was apparent in a first half where Milan flew to a 3-0 lead and it looked like humiliation was on the cards for the Premier League side.

At half-time, Liverpool supporters put on a show of defiance. They sang You’ll Never Walk Alone with unbowed passion. There was little prospect of redemption for the team but in the stands the demonstration of faith was touching.

The players rose to the challenge in the second half. In six breathtaking minutes, inspired by Steven Gerrard, Liverpool levelled the score. An hour had gone and, with extra time, there was still 60 minutes to play. Benitez’s team hung on heroically, with a cramping Jamie Carragher symbolising their dogged resistance. By the time penalties arrived it was clear that belief had been sucked out of Milan. When Andriy Shevchenko missed the final spot-kick, Liverpool were champions of Europe for the fifth time, 21 years after their previous success. It was an opportune moment to regain the crown.

By 2005, football was in the throes of change. The terraces of the English game had long been characterised by the odour of Bovril, cigarettes and beer but now there was the whiff of something else in the air: money. Roman Abramovich had bought Chelsea two years earlier and pumped Russian cash into the London club. Thirteen days before Istanbul the Glazer family gained a controlling stake in Manchester United. The extent of the transformation was not yet clear but seismic shifts were taking place. Chelsea, the Premier League champions and Champions League semi-finalists, received less than £55 million in broadcast fees 15 years ago. Last season, Liverpool – who finished second in the title race as well as winning in Madrid – earned £264 million. Television money was about to reshape the way most people watched football.

There were changes, too, inside the grounds. At the 2001 Uefa Cup final between Liverpool and Alaves in Dortmund, it was still possible to turn up at the stadium box office on the morning of the match and buy a ticket. There were few signs of any corporate presence at the Westfalenstadion. There were plenty of unsold seats to be seen during the game.

In Istanbul, branded hospitality tents were more visible and the growth in business entertainment was obvious but almost all the Liverpool supporters who travelled to Turkey found tickets and were present in the Ataturk. Two years later in Athens it was very different.

In 2007, the Champions League final was a rematch between Benitez’s team and Milan. The Greek capital was swamped with ticketless Liverpool supporters. Excited by tales of the wonderful adventures of their fellow fans in Istanbul, huge numbers of people flooded into the city hopeful of acquiring a precious ticket. Most were disappointed. The corporate allocation was significantly larger. The mood turned toxic, large groups tried to storm the gates and there were clashes with police. Athens was Istanbul’s ugly twin. It was clear that a different era of European finals had begun.

Last year in Madrid, umpteen thousands arrived in the Spanish capital knowing they would have to watch the game in bars. Only a lucky few would see the game live. Istanbul was the tipping point. Before that you could travel in the expectation of finding a ticket. That became a quixotic dream afterwards.

The type of people who attended the big games changed, too. Even 15 years ago the crowd was predominantly Scouse. Now, Liverpool fans drawn to finals hail from across the world. Anfield always prided itself on having an international following. In the 1970s, scarves with the legend “Liverpool, supporters all over the world” sold well. The club’s fame certainly stretched across the continents. It took Istanbul, however, to turn that latent following into fans motivated enough to board planes in an attempt to experience themselves some of the magic felt at the Ataturk. A Champions League final is the top item on many otherwise sedentary Liverpool supporters’ bucket list. Who could blame them after Istanbul?

Some think that this global support has changed Kopite culture but this is nonsense. If it was so easily diluted it could not have been very strong in the first place.

The main negative impact of 2005 was that it attracted the attention of Tom Hicks and George Gillett, the American carpetbaggers whose ownership of the club plunged it into financial chaos. Their involvement undermined Benitez’s subsequent career on Merseyside and squandered many of the positives delivered by Istanbul. Would Hicks and Gillett have bought Liverpool if Milan had held on to their first-half lead and closed the game out? Perhaps, but the club would not have been such an obviously undervalued asset.

The malaise engendered by Hicks and Gillett spilled over into the first half of Fenway Sports Group’s ownership. It was not until Klopp arrived that Anfield’s sense of purpose was restored. During that time, Istanbul was a touchstone, something to hold on to; proof that miracles do happen and that Liverpool – even if Roy Hodgson was at the helm – were a huge club. “We won it five times,” rang out from the Kop regularly to remind a world that is frequently too quick to forget.

After Madrid, where Klopp led the team to a sixth European crown, opponents do not need their memory jogged about the greatness of Liverpool. Especially after this season’s dominant form. But Istanbul will always be more important than the majority of other glory days. It encapsulates the club’s spirit on and off the field. It was one of the last moments before a slicker, commercial style became commonplace for showpiece games. It was unique.

Things may well get even better but Liverpool fans will never see the like of Istanbul again. It deserves its exalted place in Anfield’s history.