LIVERPOOL, England — Friday morning, and Goodison Park is quiet. There are no fans milling around the streets outside, spilling out of the Winslow pub, eagerly rushing to their seats. There is no noise, no color, no riot of blue and white. There are only a handful of cars in the parking lot. It is spitting with rain.

A stadium is a home, but that is, in truth, only an occasional role. These are places that blossom only every other weekend, as Goodison will on Sunday when Liverpool arrives for the latest Merseyside Derby. For much of the rest of the time, though, a stadium is dormant, quiet: an empty, expectant shell.

The day-to-day life of a club — the parts of it that are dedicated to the business of soccer, and the parts of it dedicated to the soccer business — happens elsewhere. For Everton, the former is at Finch Farm, its training facility on the eastern fringes of Liverpool. The latter is in the Liver Buildings, on the city’s sparkling waterfront, where Everton relocated its offices last year, a new home for all those departments whose job it is to sell shirts and tickets and sponsorship deals. To most fans, a club is a team, hopefully to win games. To all owners, a club is a business, hopefully to make money.

A club is more than that, though; there is another side, one which does its work not on the field at Goodison Park or in the suite of offices in the city, but in the tight warren of terraced streets that surround the stadium, in schools across Liverpool, in some of the most underprivileged parts of Merseyside.