Red or Dead (31 page)

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Authors: David Peace

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Norman Lowe has just resigned as our chief scout, said Bill Shankly. Would you like to be our new chief scout? Would you like to come and work with me, Geoff? To work for Liverpool Football Club?

Yes, said Geoff. I would. Thank you, Bill.


On Saturday 2 September, 1967, Liverpool Football Club
travelled to the Hawthorns, Birmingham. In the sixth minute, Tony Hateley scored. And in the fifty-eighth minute, Roger Hunt scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat West Bromwich Albion two–nil. Away from home, away from Anfield. Three days afterwards, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the City Ground, Nottingham. In the fifty-first minute, Emlyn Hughes scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Nottingham Forest one–nil.

On Saturday 9 September, 1967, Chelsea Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. In high summer sunshine. That afternoon,
fifty-three
thousand, eight hundred and thirty-nine folk came, too.

Before the whistle, the first whistle. Bill Shankly walked into the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill Shankly closed the dressing-room door. The Anfield dressing-room door. Bill Shankly looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. From player to player. From Lawrence to Lawler, Lawler to Byrne, Byrne to Smith, Smith to Yeats, Yeats to Hughes, Hughes to Callaghan, Callaghan to Hunt, Hunt to Hateley, Hateley to St John and from St John to Thompson. And Bill Shankly smiled –

In the last eight years, boys. In our last thirty-two League games against London clubs. Only West Ham United have ever won at Anfield, boys. And that was back in 1963. And that was a fluke, boys. A bloody fluke. Hateley here will tell you all how much London clubs hate coming here. Hate coming to Liverpool, hate coming to Anfield. A cup of tea is all we give a London club when they come here, boys. It is a tradition. An Anfield tradition, boys. We give London nothing when they come to Liverpool. Nothing but a cup of tea, boys.

In the high summer sunshine, on a hard, fast surface. Liverpool Football Club were all attack, Liverpool Football Club all power. In the high summer sunshine, on the hard, fast surface. Callaghan danced down one wing, Thompson weaved down the other. In the high summer sunshine, on the fast, hard surface. Hughes had hunger, Smith had thirst. In the high summer sunshine, on the fast, hard surface. Hateley took the weight off Hunt, Hateley made the space for Hunt. In the high summer sunshine, on the hard, fast surface. Bonetti saved, Bonetti saved and Bonetti saved again. In the high summer sunshine, on the fast, hard surface. After thirty-seven minutes, Harris hooked up Hateley in the Chelsea penalty area. Smith put the ball on the Chelsea
penalty spot. And Smith put the ball in the back of the Chelsea net. In the high summer sunshine, on the fast, hard surface. At the beginning of the second half, when Bonetti took his place with his back to the Kop, the Spion Kop applauded him. But in the high summer sunshine, on the hard, fast surface. Ninety seconds later, Hughes crossed the ball. Hateley dived for the ball. A human rocket, a human torpedo. Hateley’s head met the ball. And the ball hit the back of the net. The Chelsea net. In the high summer sunshine, on the hard, fast surface. Ninety seconds later, Thompson crossed the ball. Hateley brushed between two defenders. A human rocket, a human torpedo. Hateley’s head met the ball. The ball hit the back of the net. The Chelsea net. And in the high summer sunshine, on the fast, hard surface. Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club three–one. In the high summer sunshine, on the hard, fast surface. Tony Hateley had made his point against his former club. And Liverpool Football Club had served their notice on all the other clubs. That evening, Tottenham Hotspur had eleven points. That evening, Liverpool Football club had eleven points, too. But that evening, Liverpool Football Club were first in the First Division. On goal average. First again.

One week afterwards, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the Dell, Southampton. In the thirtieth second, Southampton Football Club scored. In the tenth minute, Tommy Smith put the ball on the Southampton penalty spot. But Smith put the ball wide of the Southampton goal. And Liverpool Football Club lost one–nil to Southampton Football Club. Away from home, away from Anfield. That evening, Tottenham Hotspur still had eleven points. But now Sheffield Wednesday had eleven points, Manchester City had eleven points and Arsenal Football Club had eleven points, too. Liverpool Football Club still had eleven points, too. And that evening, Liverpool Football Club were first in the First Division. Still. On goal average.

On Tuesday 19 September, 1967, Liverpool Football Club came to the Malmö Stadium, Malmö, Sweden, to play Malmö Fotbollförening in the first leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. Liverpool Football Club had never played in the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup before. In the ninth minute, Tony Hateley scored. In the eightieth minute, Hateley scored again. And Liverpool Football Club
beat Malmö Fotbollförening two–nil in the first leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup.

Five days later, Everton Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-four thousand, one hundred and eighty-nine folk came, too. In the seventy-eighth minute, Roger Hunt scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Everton Football Club one–nil. That evening, Sheffield Wednesday had thirteen points and Arsenal Football Club had thirteen points. And Liverpool Football Club had thirteen points, too. That evening, Liverpool Football Club were first in the First Division. Still. On goal average.

One week afterwards, Stoke City came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty thousand, two hundred and twenty folk came, too. In the thirty-eighth minute, Peter Thompson scored. In the fifty-fifth minute, Tommy Smith scored another penalty. And Liverpool Football Club beat Stoke City two–one. That month, Liverpool Football Club had played six League games. They had won five of those games and they had lost one of those games. Lawrence, Lawler, Byrne, Smith, Yeats, Hughes, Callaghan, Hunt, Hateley, St John and Thompson had played in all six games. The same eleven players in all six games.


At the end of the month. At the end of the corridor. In his office. Bill Shankly and Joe Fagan were talking about the reserve team. The reserve team had played ten games. They had won four, drawn five and lost one. They had scored fifteen goals and conceded seven.

How is Clemence doing, asked Bill Shankly.

Joe Fagan said, Not bad, Boss. Not bad.

But not good, asked Bill Shankly. Not good enough for the first team yet? Is that what you are saying, Joe?

Joe Fagan shook his head. And Joe Fagan said, Not yet, Boss. Not yet. But he will be, Boss. He will be. He’ll be a great goalkeeper. If we give him the help, Boss. And if we give him the time …

Aye, said Bill Shankly. It’s always a question of time, is it not? Knowing when is the right time. The right time to bring a player on. To give him his chance. His moment. That beautiful moment, that wonderful time. When everything is before him. All to come for him. But then there is that other time. The time to let a player go. To give him his cards. That horrible moment, that terrible time. When
everything is behind him. All gone for him. Aye, it’s always a question of time, Joe. Always a question of time …


On Wednesday 4 October, 1967, Malmö Fotbollförening of Sweden came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five folk came, too. Thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Malmö Fotbollförening in the second leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In the twenty-eighth minute, Ron Yeats scored. In the thirty-sixth minute, Roger Hunt scored. And Liverpool Football Club of England beat Malmö Fotbollförening of Sweden two–one in the second leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. At home, at Anfield.

Three days afterwards, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Filbert Street, Leicester. In the twenty-seventh minute, Ian St John scored. But Liverpool Football Club lost two–one to Leicester City. One week later, West Ham United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-six thousand, nine hundred and fifty-one folk came, too. In the fifteenth minute, Ian St John scored. In the thirty-eighth minute, St John scored again. And in the sixty-eighth minute, Tommy Smith scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat West Ham United three–one. At home, at Anfield.

On Tuesday 24 October, 1967, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Turf Moor, Burnley. In the eighty-second minute, Chris Lawler scored. And Liverpool Football Club drew one-all with Burnley Football Club. Away from home, away from Anfield.

Four days afterwards, Sheffield Wednesday Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty thousand, three hundred and ninety-nine folk came, too. In the tenth minute, Chris Lawler scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Sheffield Wednesday one–nil. At home, at Anfield. That evening, Liverpool Football Club had twenty points. And Liverpool Football Club were still first in the First Division. That month, Liverpool Football Club had played five games. They had won three, drawn one and lost one. Lawrence, Lawler, Byrne, Smith, Hughes, Callaghan, Hunt, Hateley, St John and Thompson had played in all five games. Yeats had played in four of the five games. And Strong had played in the other game.
That season, Liverpool Football Club still had twenty-eight more League games to come. Twenty-eight more games to play.

In the drive, in the car. In the night. Bill turned off the engine. Bill got out of the car. Bill walked up the drive. Bill unlocked the front door. Bill opened the door. Bill stepped into the house. In the dark. Bill closed the door. Bill took off his hat. Bill took off his coat. Bill hung up his hat. Bill hung up his coat. Bill went into the front room. Bill switched on the light. Bill walked over to his armchair. Bill picked up the pile of newspapers from beside his armchair. Bill carried the pile of newspapers into the kitchen. Bill put down the pile of newspapers on the table. Bill walked back into the front room. Bill went over to the bookcase. Bill opened the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase. Bill took a scrapbook, a pair of scissors and a tin of glue out of the cupboard. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill switched off the light. Bill walked back into the kitchen. Bill switched on the light. Bill put down the scrapbook, the pair of scissors and the tin of glue on the table. Bill sat down at the table. Bill picked up the first newspaper on the pile. Bill turned the pages of the newspaper. Bill picked up the pair of scissors. Bill cut out the reports of every game. Not only the reports about the games Liverpool Football Club had played. The reports about every game every football club had played. Bill opened the tin of glue. Bill stuck the reports into the scrapbook. Not only the reports about the games Liverpool Football Club had played. The reports about every game every football club had played. In the kitchen, at the table. In the night and in the silence. Bill kept turning the pages of the newspapers. Bill kept picking up his scissors. Bill kept cutting out the reports. Bill kept sticking the reports in the scrapbook. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stopped turning the pages. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at one page. Tommy Docherty, the manager of Chelsea Football Club, had received a twenty-eight-day suspension from all football activity following incidents on the club’s goodwill tour of Bermuda in June. Bill turned to the next page. Tommy Docherty had resigned as manager of Chelsea Football Club. Bill
turned to the next page. On Saturday 7 October, 1967, Leeds United had beaten Chelsea Football Club seven–nil. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill shook his head. Bill knew Tommy. Tommy had played for Preston North End. Bill liked Tommy. Bill thought what had happened to Tommy was a tragedy. A tragedy for Tommy. Bill thought what had happened to Tommy was a waste. A waste for Chelsea Football Club. In the night and in the silence. Bill shook his head again. And Bill turned the pages again. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stopped turning the pages again. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at another page. On Sunday 8 October, 1967, Clement Attlee had died. Bill stood up. Bill walked back into the front room. Bill switched on the light again. Bill went back over to the bookcase again. Bill opened the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase again. Bill took another scrapbook out of the small cupboard. Bill turned the pages of the scrapbook. Bill came to the pages of cuttings from January, 1965. The pages of cuttings about the funeral of Winston Churchill. The cuttings and the photographs. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at one photograph. The photograph of Clement Attlee at the funeral of Winston Churchill. Clement Attlee standing, frozen in St Paul’s Cathedral. Clement Attlee standing, frail in St Paul’s Cathedral. In the night and in the silence. Bill closed the pages of the scrapbook. Bill put the scrapbook back in the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase. Bill closed the door. Bill switched off the light again. Bill walked back into the kitchen again. Bill sat back down again. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stared down at the pages of obituaries of Clement Attlee. In the night and in the silence. Bill shook his head. Bill had admired Clement Attlee. Bill had respected Clement Attlee. And Bill had voted for Clement Attlee. Bill thought what had happened to Clement Attlee was a tragedy. A tragedy for the man. Bill thought what had happened to Clement Attlee was a waste. A waste for the country. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill shook his head again. In the night and in the silence.


On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. Bill watched Hughes pass to St John. St John run to the left, St John run to the right. St John shoot. And St John score. Bill watched St John cross. Hateley fly in. And Hateley score. Bill watched Smith put
the ball on the penalty spot. And Smith put the ball in the net. Nine minutes later, Bill watched Hunt score. One minute afterwards, Bill watched Thompson score. And one minute later, Bill watched Hunt score again. And then Callaghan score. And then Callaghan score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. The red night, the red noise. Bill heard the Spion Kop clap, Bill heard the Spion Kop cheer. And Bill heard the Spion Kop sing,
God help United, God help United, God help…

On the touchline, the Anfield touchline. Albert Sing, the manager of TSV 1860 München, shook Bill’s hand –

I have never seen a display of attacking football like that, said Albert Sing. The only thing I can think to compare it to is the great Hungarian Golden Team of Puskás, Kocsis, Bozsik and Hidegkuti. And so I only hope my own boys have learnt a lesson. A lesson in how to play football, in how football should be played. And I also hope someone makes a film loop of all those eight goals, those eight beautiful goals, to show to every school in England and every school in Europe. To show every boy in England and every boy in Europe. Because that is how football should be played, Mr Shankly. That is how all boys should play football. So congratulations, Mr Shankly …

Bill said, Thank you, Herr Sing. Thank you very much, sir.

Bill walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Bill walked down the tunnel. The Anfield tunnel. Bill walked into the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. From player to player. From Tommy Lawrence to Chris Lawler, Chris to Gerry Byrne, Gerry to Tommy Smith, Tommy to Ron Yeats, Ronnie to Emlyn Hughes, Emlyn to Ian Callaghan, Cally to Roger Hunt, Roger to Tony Hateley, Tony to Ian St John and from the Saint to Peter Thompson. And Bill smiled. And Bill said, Well played, boys. Well played.


In the front room, in his chair. Bill stared down at his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the rain falling on their house. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the wind blowing around their house. Bill picked up his diary off the arm of the chair. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. Bill listened to the rain. And Bill stared down at the dates. Bill listened
to the wind. And Bill stared down at the fixtures. The rain and the wind. On Saturday 6 October, 1967, Ian Ure of Arsenal Football Club had brought down Denis Law of Manchester United. Denis Law had taken a swing at Ian Ure. Denis Law had been sent off. The newspapers had predicted that Denis Law would be suspended for six months. Denis Law had been suspended for six weeks. Denis Law would miss nine games. Bill knew Manchester United would miss Denis Law. Bill closed his diary. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. In the front room, in his chair, Bill listened to the rain falling on their house. Bill listened to the wind blowing around their house. The rain falling on all the houses, the wind blowing around all the houses. And Bill smiled again.


In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Bill unfolded the piece of paper. And Bill said, Listen to this, boys. Just listen to this: Stepney, Dunne, Burns, Crerand, Foulkes, Sadler, Fitzpatrick, Kidd, Charlton, Best and Aston. That’s Manchester United today, boys. That’s their team today. No Denis Law, boys. And no Norbert Stiles. Now I know you’d beat Manchester United even if Law and Stiles were playing, boys. I know you would. So I have no doubts at all, boys. No doubts at all that you will murder this Manchester United team today. Absolutely bloody murder them. Worse than you did to the Germans on Tuesday. I know that, boys. I know that. Because this is their reserve team, boys. A second-string side. And I know Matt will be nervous, boys. I know Matt will be shitting bricks. Bringing a reserve team to Anfield, boys. Fielding a second-string side against Liverpool Football Club.

On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched George Best dodge every challenge, George Best elude every tackle. Bill watched George Best spin threads, George Best weave webs. With artistry and with craft, with bravery and with strength. Bill watched Best dance, Bill watched Best sing. And score and score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched Liverpool Football Club slip and slip again. Liverpool Football Club no longer first in the First Division. Manchester United first in the First Division. Again. Liverpool Football Club second. Again. Second best. Again.

In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill said, That
boy Best is turning into some player, lads. Into some player. But this is just one game in a long season, lads. A very long season. And we will play them again, lads. We will play them again on April the sixth. And so remember that date, boys. Remember that date. Because on April the sixth we will go there, boys. We will go to Old Trafford and we will beat them. And if I’m not mistaken, boys. If I am not wrong. That will be the game, boys. That will be the match that decides the Championship, boys. That decides who will be first and who will be second. So remember that date, boys –

Remember that date.


On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop. Liverpool Football Club had come to the City of Football again. Liverpool Football Club had come to the Népstadion again. But Liverpool Football Club had not played Honvéd Football Club. Liverpool Football Club had played Ferencvárosi Torna Club in the first leg of the Third Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten AS Roma, Athletic Bilbao, Manchester United and Juventus. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had won the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1966, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had reached the quarter-finals of the European Cup. In 1967, Flórián Albert of Ferencvárosi Torna Club had been named as the European Footballer of the Year. Nine players of the Hungarian national team played for Ferencvárosi Torna Club. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a very good side. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a great team. And Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten Liverpool Football Club one–nil at the Népstadion. In a game that had been brought forward to one o’clock in the afternoon because snow was falling. Falling and falling. Heavier and heavier. And still falling, still falling. Heavier, still heavier. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill was not thinking about the game. Bill was thinking about the snow. And Bill was thinking about Matt again. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the snow from the runway. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the ice from the wings of the plane. And Bill thought about Tommy Curry. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool
aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines start again. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop again. And Bill thought about the
twenty-three
people who had died that day in Munich. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill heard the ground crew clear the snow from the runway again. Bill heard the ground crew clear the ice from the wings of the plane again. And Bill could not stop thinking about that day in February, 1958. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start for a third time. And Bill thought about Ness. Bill felt the plane begin to move. Bill thought about the girls. Bill felt the plane begin to pick up speed. Bill closed his eyes. Bill felt the plane shake. Bill gripped the armrest of his seat. Bill felt the plane shudder. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. His eyes closed and his knuckles white. Bill prayed. Bill felt the plane begin to leave the ground. And Bill prayed and Bill prayed, like he had prayed and prayed that day in February, 1958. And Bill felt the plane begin to climb. Like he had never prayed for anything before. To climb and climb. Jesus. Bill hated flying. Above the ice and above the snow. Christ. Bill hated travelling. Bill felt the plane begin to level off. Jesus. Bill hated Europe. Christ. Bill hated abroad. And now Bill felt the plane begin to cruise. But Bill did not relax his grip. Bill did not open his eyes. Not until the plane was on the ground again. Not until his feet were on the ground again. His grip tight, his eyes closed. Until Bill was back in Liverpool. Until Bill was home again.


On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Bill shivered and Bill watched. Liverpool Football Club precise, Liverpool Football Club swift. Bill shivered and Bill watched Hateley send the ball, the orange ball, through to Hunt. And Reaney reach the ball first. But Reaney could only nudge the orange ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Reaney lost his balance, Reaney lost his footing. And Reaney lost the orange ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Hunt found the ball. And Hunt found the net. And a goal. On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Bill not
shivering now, Bill just watching now, watching Sprake collect a pass from Charlton. The players of Liverpool Football Club falling back to defend, the players of Leeds United pushing forward to attack. Sprake holding the ball in his hands, Sprake preparing to throw the orange ball out to Cooper. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. On the right of his own goal, Sprake shaped to throw the ball to Cooper. Then Sprake seemed to have his doubts. Now Sprake seemed to change his mind. Sprake brought the orange ball back towards his chest. Sprake lost his grip on the ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. The orange ball curled up out of his arms. The ball swept up into the air. And in the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. The orange ball dropped into his goal. And in the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. There was silence. Then cheers. And then laughter. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. At half-time, over the tannoy, the Anfield tannoy, the announcer, the Anfield announcer, played
Careless Hands
by Des O’Connor. And the Spion Kop laughed. And the Spion Kop sang along to
Careless Hands
. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground.
Careless Hands

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