Red or Dead (21 page)

On the morning of Sunday 20 September, 1964, Liverpool Football Club were twenty-first in the First Division. The Champions of England second from the bottom of the table. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew this was going to be a long season. The longest season in the history of Liverpool Football Club. A long and tiring season. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew their preparations for this season, this long and tiring season, had not been ideal, had not been what they wanted. The players of Liverpool Football Club had returned from their tour of the United States exhausted. Many of the players of Liverpool Football Club had now won the recognition of their countries. Many of the players of Liverpool Football Club were now in their national teams. Selected and capped. Playing more games, many more games. Training with different managers, listening to different voices. Being distracted, getting exhausted. Exhausted and injured. Injured and finished. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew some players would have to step down, down to the reserves. Players like Alan A’Court and Ronnie Moran. That some players would not want to step down, that some players would want a transfer. Players like Alan A’Court. Under the stands, among the boots. The
dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew some players would have to step up, up from the reserves. They knew some players would be able to step up, up to the first team. Players like Bobby Graham, Chris Lawler, Tommy Smith and Gordon Wallace. They knew other players would struggle, struggle to step up. Players like Philip Ferns, Alan Hignett, Thomas Lowry, Willie Molyneux and John Sealey. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew they would need still more players, need to bring in still more players. Players like Phil Chisnall. From Manchester United. Players like Geoff Strong. From Arsenal. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew there would have to be these changes, have to be these experiments. That these changes, that these experiments, would make consistency difficult, would make stability elusive. That there would be ups and there would be downs. Before consistency, before stability. In a long season, the longest season in the history of Liverpool Football Club. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew there would be ups and downs. Many more ups

and downs, ups and

downs.

…

On Saturday 26 September, 1964, one week after Everton Football Club had come to Anfield, Liverpool. One week after Everton Football Club had beaten Liverpool Football Club four–nil at Anfield, Liverpool. Aston Villa Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, thirty-eight thousand, nine hundred and forty folk came, too. In the sixth minute, Bobby Graham scored. In the thirty-sixth minute, Ian Callaghan scored. In the fifty-sixth minute, Roger Hunt scored. In the sixty-fourth minute, Graham scored again. And in the eighty-sixth minute, Graham scored again. And Liverpool Football Club beat Aston Villa five–one. At home, at Anfield. On Wednesday 7 October, 1964, Sheffield United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, thirty-seven thousand, seven hundred and forty-five folk came, too. In the thirty-first minute, Roger Hunt scored. In the fifty-third minute,
Hunt scored again. And in the fifty-ninth minute, Bobby Graham scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Sheffield United three–one. At home, at Anfield. Three days after that, Liverpool Football Club travelled to St Andrews, Birmingham. And Liverpool Football Club drew nil–nil with Birmingham City. Three days later, Leicester City Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, forty-two thousand, five hundred and fifty-eight folk came, too. That evening, Liverpool Football Club lost one–nil to Leicester City. Again.

Four days later, West Ham United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, thirty-six thousand and twenty-nine folk came, too. In the seventh minute, Ian St John scored. In the twenty-seventh minute, Roger Hunt scored. But that afternoon, Liverpool Football Club drew two-all with West Ham United. One week later, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the Hawthorns, Birmingham. And Liverpool Football Club lost three–nil to West Bromwich Albion.

On Saturday 31 October, 1964, Manchester United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-two thousand, four hundred and two folk came, too. But Liverpool Football Club lost two–nil to Manchester United. At home, at Anfield. That evening, Manchester United were top of the First Division. That evening, Liverpool Football Club were eighteenth in the First Division. That evening, under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots and the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew this was a long, hard season. The longest and the hardest season in the history of Liverpool Football Club. A season of ups and downs. Home and away, ups

and downs. Ups and

downs.

…

Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley had been to Wembley. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley had seen England play Belgium. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley had seen the Belgians murder the English. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley knew England had been lucky to draw against Belgium. The Belgium side had included seven players from Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht of Brussels. Heylens, Cornelis, Plaskie, Puis, Jurion, Verbiest and Van Himst. Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht were Liverpool Football Club’s next opponents in the
European Cup. In the First Round proper of the European Cup. Over two legs, home and away. The first leg at home, at Anfield. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley were concerned, Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley were worried. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley went to Brussels. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley watched Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht play Standard Liège. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley watched Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht murder Standard Liège. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley were not only worried. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley were frightened. Bill Shankly and Bob Paisley were scared.

After the flight back from Belgium, on the way back from the airport. In the car, at the wheel. Bob Paisley was thinking out loud, Bob Paisley saying, Van Himst is the problem, Boss. The problem for us. The problem for Big Ron. Van Himst plays behind their front man. You never see him, never see him until it’s too late. That is the danger, that is the threat. The threat to us, Boss. The threat …

You’re right, said Bill Shankly. You’re exactly right, Bob. And so Ron will need help. A lot of help. But they mark man-for-man. And that can be a weakness. If we can exploit it. If we can confuse and deceive them. If we can trick them like Leicester City tricked us. Then we can beat them. Then we can win. But we will need to deceive them. We’ll need to fool them. To make them not believe their own eyes, to make them doubt their own eyes. So it all comes down to appearance, Bob. All down to appearance …

In the car, at the wheel. Bob Paisley nodded. And Bob Paisley said, Yes, Boss. If we can …

Oh, we can, laughed Bill Shankly. We can, Bob. Pull over here!

In the car, at the wheel. Bob Paisley pulled over. And Bill Shankly jumped out of the car. Bob Paisley watched Bill Shankly go into a sporting-goods shop. Bob Paisley watched Bill Shankly come back out of the sporting-goods shop. Bill Shankly had a big bin liner stuffed full of something in his arms. Bill Shankly opened the boot of the car. Bill Shankly put the big bin liner stuffed full of something into the boot of the car. Bill Shankly closed the boot. Bill Shankly got back into the car. Bill Shankly looked at his watch –

Forget my house, Bob. Drop me at the ground.

Bob Paisley shrugged, Bob Paisley nodded. Bob Paisley turned the car around, Bob Paisley drove to the ground. And Bob Paisley
dropped Bill Shankly at the ground, at Anfield.

…

After the training, after their bath. In the dressing room, in their suits. Ron Yeats and Ian St John heard the footsteps in the corridor outside. The fast steps, the heavy steps. Ron Yeats and Ian St John saw the dressing-room door fly open. Bill Shankly in the doorway, Bill Shankly with a big bin liner –

Strip off, Ron!

Ron Yeats looked at Bill Shankly. Ron Yeats looked at Ian St John. Ron Yeats shrugged. Ron Yeats stood up. Ron Yeats stripped off. And Ron Yeats stood in the middle of the dressing room. Naked.

Bill Shankly took a shirt off a peg on the dressing-room wall. A red shirt. Bill Shankly opened the big bin liner. Bill Shankly took a pair of shorts out of the big bin liner. A pair of red shorts. Bill Shankly handed the red shirt and the red shorts to Ron Yeats –

Put these on, son.

Ron Yeats put on the shorts. The red shorts. Ron Yeats put on the shirt. The red shirt.

Ian St John opened up his kit bag. Ian St John took out a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. Ian St John handed the socks to Bill Shankly. And Bill Shankly smiled –

Oh yes. Yes …

Bill Shankly handed the red socks to Ron Yeats. And Ron Yeats put on the socks. The red socks. And Ron Yeats stood in the middle of the dressing room, the Anfield dressing room. In red.

Now your boots, said Bill Shankly. Put on your boots, Ron. And follow me. Follow me, son …

Ron Yeats put on his boots. And Ron Yeats followed Bill Shankly out of the dressing room. Down the corridor, onto the pitch,

the Anfield pitch. And Ron Yeats stood on the pitch, the Anfield pitch. And Bill Shankly looked at Ron Yeats –

On the pitch, the Anfield pitch. In his red shirt. In his red shorts. In his red socks. Bill Shankly walked around Ron Yeats. On the pitch, the Anfield pitch. Bill Shankly clapped,

Bill Shankly laughed –

Jesus Christ, son. You look awesome. You look terrifying, son. You look gigantic, you look massive. You look seven foot tall, man!
You’ll scare the living daylights out of Anderlecht. You’ll scare them to death, son. All the way back to Belgium!

…

On Wednesday 25 November, 1964, Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht came to Anfield, Liverpool. That night, forty-four thousand, five hundred and sixteen folk came, too.

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, on the bench. Bill Shankly put a hand on Gordon Milne’s knee. And Bill Shankly squeezed it tight –

When we have the ball, you come out and play with it, son. Just like you always do. Forwards like you always do, son. But when they have the ball, you pick up Van Himst. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, you follow him and you stick with him, son. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, you mark him out of the game.

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, on the bench. Bill Shankly put a hand on young Tommy Smith’s knee. And Bill Shankly squeezed it tight –

Forget that number on the back of your shirt, Tommy. Forget that number ten tonight. Tonight I want you to be Ron’s right leg, Tommy. To win every ball, to find a red shirt. Out to the wings if you can, Tommy. To Callaghan or to Thompson. But I don’t want to see you over the halfway line, Tommy. Not tonight. Not tonight, Tommy.

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, on the benches. The players of Liverpool Football Club looked at Bill Shankly. Bill Shankly looking from player to player. From Lawrence to Lawler, Lawler to Byrne, Byrne to Milne, Milne to Yeats, Yeats to Stevenson, Stevenson to Callaghan, Callaghan to Hunt, Hunt to St John, St John to Smith and from Smith to Thompson. From player to player, red player to red player. In red. Ten players in red, from head to toe. In red, all in red. Bill Shankly nodding, Bill Shankly smiling –

I know Peter and Gordon played against some of this lot at Wembley, said Bill Shankly. And Bob and me, we saw them play the other Sunday. And so I’m not going to lie to you, boys. I’m not going to lie. They have a couple of good players. A couple of very handy lads. So we’ll need to be on our toes. On our toes tonight, boys. But they are not a good team. Don’t let us kid ourselves. They’re not in our league, boys. They’d never be Champions of England. Never in a
million years. And I’ll tell you another thing, they’ll never have played anywhere like here before. Anywhere like Anfield, boys. Because there’s nowhere like Anfield. Nowhere like this crowd, like our crowd. And when our crowd see you tonight, boys. Dressed like this, dressed in red. All in red. They are going to go berserk, boys. Berserk! And when Anderlecht hear them, hear them roar. And when Anderlecht see you, see you in red. Anderlecht of Belgium are going to wish they’d brought a spare kit with them, boys. Because they’re going to shit their pants. They’re going to shit their bloody pants, boys!

In the tenth minute, Lawrence threw the ball to Byrne. In red, all in red, Byrne passed to Thompson. In red, all in red, Thompson passed to Smith. In red, all in red, Smith passed to Hunt. In red, all in red, Hunt shot. And Trappeniers parried the ball. The ball bounced to St John. And in red, all in red, St John scored. In red, all in red. In the forty-third minute, St John wrested the ball from Verbiest. In red, all in red, St John slipped the ball through to Hunt. And in red, all in red, Hunt scored. In red, all in red. In the fiftieth minute, Byrne took a free kick on the left in red, all in red. The ball arched over to Yeats. And in red, all in red, Yeats glanced the ball into the corner of the goal. And in red, all in red, Liverpool Football Club beat Royal Sporting Club Anderlecht three–nil. In red, all in red. At home,

at Anfield. Bill Shankly danced around the dressing room. From player to player, red player to red player. Bill Shankly patted their backs, Bill Shankly shook their hands. All of their backs and all of their hands. Smiling and laughing –

Do you know who I’ve just seen, boys? Just seen out there in that corridor? I’ve just seen Mister Herrera, boys. The manager of Internazionale of Milan. And do you know what he told me, boys? Do you know what Mister Herrera of Internazionale just said to me? He said he hopes he does not meet us until the final, boys. Until the final of the European Cup. That’s what he just told me, boys. What Mister Herrera of Internazionale of Milan just said to me. And I know why he said that, boys. I know why. Because when you took to that pitch tonight, boys. You were like a burning fire. A red fire, boys. It was like an oven out there tonight. And you looked like giants in that oven, boys. Red giants. And you played like giants, boys. Red giants. Because Anderlecht are a great team, boys. Anderlecht are one of the
best teams I have ever seen. But you swept them aside, boys. You swept them aside like a fire. Like a red fire, boys. Red hot you were. Red hot, boys. Every one of you. Every single one of you, boys. Like the red heat of revolution. That is what you were tonight, boys. The Red Heat of a Revolution. The Red Heat of a Revolution that is only just beginning, boys. A Red Revolution. A Red Revolution that will never end, boys! A revolution without end, boys …