Red or Dead (71 page)

Harold Wilson sat back in his seat. Harold Wilson laughed. And Harold Wilson said, Isn’t it time for me to take over the interview and put that question to you? I’d rather hear your answer on that one. Well, I don’t know. I’ll simply say the only time we’ve ever won the World Cup was when we had a Labour government. So at least we’ve got that condition fulfilled. I think we were very unlucky in Mexico. It could have gone much better. We were unlucky. But I don’t know. They are building up a new team. I think they had, in the end, to break up that very great team of 1966. Perhaps clung, tried to keep them together too long. But there’s a lot of experiment going on. A lot of brand-new lads.

The next one is in the Argentine, said Bill Shankly. Which makes it more difficult. And possibly advantageous to the Latins.

Harold Wilson said, I don’t think the high altitude in Mexico was good for countries coming from low altitude …

Mr Wilson, said Bill Shankly, the game never should have been played in Mexico.

No, no. Any more than the Olympics should. But I think we’ve a better chance now than I would have thought possible two or three years ago, when we saw that disaster of not getting into the finals, the disaster of not qualifying …

Not qualifying was a killer, said Bill Shankly. Scotland qualified. And they were a little unlucky.

Well, as I say, I saw them at Frankfurt.

Don Revie is in now, said Bill Shankly. And he’s, he’s, he’s … Now he’s searching out, er … What he can do for the best …

He’s experimenting. Yes. Experimenting.

Well, said Bill Shankly, we were talking about getting the best players for the plan of campaign. And utilise them. And possibly it’ll take him longer than people think.

Harold Wilson sat forward in his seat. And Harold Wilson asked, What were you naturally?

Right foot, said Bill Shankly. Oh yes. Right-footed.

But you could do both?

Er, I was a reasonable kicker of a ball with my left foot. But I was naturally right-footed.

What was your favourite position?

I played with four on my back, which then was called right-half. But I was a midfield player. Or I’d be a sweeper up. One of the two. We were talking about judgement, of course, which you and I had to have. What do you regard as your biggest mistake? If you did have a big mistake, that is?

Harold Wilson said, Oh, that’s my secret!

Bill Shankly laughed.

I have had a number, including some that the commentators in the opposition have not got onto. I think one or two that I would say, particularly here: I think on Rhodesia, for example, in the 1960s, I thought they really were willing to negotiate and get a solution, and I went on. We had the meetings on HMS
Fearless
, HMS
Tiger
. I went there and I think I put a lot of energy into it that was wasted. Now the
situation has changed and I hope it is going to be all right. But, I think, other things: I underrated, for example, the economic situation in the 1960s. I didn’t realise how virulent could be an attack on sterling. Sometimes, you know, from people just talking and gossiping without really knowing the facts. I was trying to build up the industrial strength and didn’t allow enough, I think, for the fact that we could be knocked sideways by a run on sterling. We’ve learnt a lot from those days. But I think those are the kind of mistakes I would mention …

Well, I wouldn’t call that a mistake, Mr Wilson.

And I think, like you, I sometimes put the odd person in the team that afterwards I thought had been a mistake …

Well, said Bill Shankly again, I wouldn’t call them mistakes …

Not many …

I would call them happenings, said Bill Shankly.

Harold Wilson said, You say, in football, you don’t have mistakes, you have happenings?

Happenings, said Bill Shankly. And I think it’s the same in your case. Happenings.

Harold Wilson nodded. And Harold Wilson said, Well, I like the happenings to lead to a win, not a loss.

Right, said Bill Shankly. What made you become a socialist?

Really, very similar to the reason I think anyone you were brought up with would say. I was brought up in an area, the textile valleys of the West Riding, where unemployment, the Depression, was so great and where … well, my own father was out of work for a year or two. But we didn’t have it hard, we didn’t have it bad. But a lot of the kids – kids in my patrol in the Scouts, kids in my football team at school – their parents were out of work. Lads were in what we now call the eleven-plus and couldn’t go on to the secondary school because of that. I think that’s what really started it. But a lot of it was, as I say, also the influence of mostly the religious teachers.

Well, said Bill Shankly, I think to that question I would have said, I think you are what you are. You are born what you are. And I think that a man is a socialist at heart.

Harold Wilson nodded again. And Harold Wilson said, I think you are to a large extent born. My father voted Labour in 1906, though he also worked for Churchill, Winston Churchill, in the 1908 election,
as his sub-agent. I was brought up on that legend. But perhaps in my mind the Tories never had a chance. Because I was a little indoctrinated the other way by my family.

Well, said Bill Shankly again, I think that you were a naturalborn. And I think if I am born, the politics that is in me, is me.

That’s right. Well, it is part of your whole make-up.

It is part of my make-up, said Bill Shankly. The same as my religion is part of my make-up …

Quite right. Absolutely right.

And football is my religion, said Bill Shankly.

Harold Wilson nodded. And Harold Wilson said, And I do not say that if a person is religious, he’s got to be a socialist. All I say is, if he is a religious person, in my view, he should not feel that his politics and his religion are contradictory. Let him be, as so many are, a good Conservative, a good Liberal, a good Labour man. But he must feel that what he is doing in politics represents his conception of what religion tells him.

Oh yes, said Bill Shankly. Oh yes. Without doubt. Yes. Now who is the best player you ever did see?

It’s difficult. Difficult. But Alec Jackson. Alec Jackson. Another Scotsman. Alec Jackson of Huddersfield.

The side that won the League …

And in those three years, they were in the Cup Final twice. And in the semi-final, with two replays in the middle year.

And the second team, said Bill Shankly, they won the Central League three successive seasons?

They did. And at the same time. That’s right.

Now you mention Alec Jackson, said Bill Shankly, I’ll tell you a story. Roy Goodall said to me that Alec Jackson used to go into the visiting dressing room, before the game at Huddersfield, and say to the left-back, I bet you a new hat I score three goals. And he used to go out and score three goals. This is the kind of cockiness the man had. He was so brilliant.

Harold Wilson nodded. And Harold Wilson said, He was. And it was tragedy when he was killed. I’m not saying there is nobody as good today. That sounds like a very old fogey. But I am saying, if I were to start picking out one or two today, I’d be unfair to a lot of
others. I think there are people as good as he was today. And many would say better. We haven’t seen them competing with one another.

Well, said Bill Shankly, I was lucky enough, and fortunate enough, to play in a team where a fellow called Tom Finney played. And of all the players I have seen, I would pick Tommy Finney.

You’d pick Tommy Finney?

Tommy had everything.

Well, what about that story, though, that when he replaced Matthews on the wing for a match, the centre-forward, Stan Mortensen, said, It’s not the same? He said that Matthews always had the lace placed correctly.

Yes, said Bill Shankly. Correct. Great players both.

A wonderful combination.

Great, great.

Well, we’ve got some great players today. I’ve named one or two. And there are a lot more. And you’ve brought a lot of them on yourself, haven’t you?

Well, said Bill Shankly, we have a team here. They complement each other. They play as a team.

You signed two players from Scunthorpe?

Clemence for eighteen thousand pounds and Keegan for thirtyfive thousand pounds. Yes.

At a time when the ruling rate was a couple of hundred thousand for a first-class player?

Yes, said Bill Shankly. Clemence has been a brilliant player.

I’ve seen him play some good games.

Yes, said Bill Shankly again. Er, now, Mr Wilson, you and I are sitting here. Both from socialist backgrounds. That’s not to say that we have no time for anybody else. Because, I mean, the whole world is with us. I’ve got friends in all walks of life. And I don’t let politics or religion bother me. I’ll tell you that now. That’s a fact. But you were honoured with the OBE. And so was I. So it’s one each.

Yes. We got one each.

Who’s going to get the next goal?

Harold Wilson smiled. And Harold Wilson said, Well, actually, in some ways, I think I can pull a bit of rank here …

Bill Shankly laughed.

Mine was given me by Winston Churchill. In your case, it was a lesser prime minister who recommended you.

Very good, laughed Bill Shankly. A wonderful answer, Mr Wilson. And it’s been wonderful talking to you. Thank you.

Harold Wilson nodded. Harold Wilson smiled. And Harold Wilson said, Well, thank you very much. I’ve enjoyed it. It’s made a welcome break. A lovely change. Among friends …

In the house, in their bed. Bill could not sleep. Not a wink. His head on the pillow. His eyes open. Bill stared up into the darkness. Up into the silence. All night. Bill thinking, Bill wondering. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. In the dark and in the silence. Bill knowing and Bill not knowing. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. His head on the pillow. His eyes open. Until at last, at last. Bill saw the curtain edges grow light again. Bill heard the bottle on the step again. And the paper through the letter box. And Bill got out of bed. Bill put on his dressing gown. Bill walked down the stairs. Bill picked up the paper from the floor. Bill turned to the back pages of the paper. The sports pages. And Bill checked the fixture list again. Bill still thinking, Bill still wondering. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. In the dawn and in the silence. Bill still knowing and Bill still not knowing. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. Bill closed the paper. Bill put down the paper on the table in the hall. And Bill walked back up the stairs. Bill went into the bathroom. Bill shaved and Bill washed. Bill went back into the bedroom. Bill put on his shirt. His tangerine shirt. Bill went to the dressing table. Bill opened the top drawer. Bill took out his cufflinks. His gold cufflinks. Bill closed the drawer. Bill did up the cuffs of his shirt. His tangerine shirt. Bill went to the wardrobe. Bill opened the doors. Bill took out his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Bill left the wardrobe doors open. Bill walked over to the bed. Bill laid out the suit on top of the bed covers. Bill took the trousers from the coat hanger. Bill put on the trousers of his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Bill went back to the dressing table. Bill opened
the second drawer of the dressing table. Bill took out a tie. Bill closed the drawer. Bill walked back to the wardrobe. The doors still open. Bill stood before the mirror on the back of one of the doors. Bill put on his tie. Bill went back over to the bed. Bill picked up the jacket from the bed. Bill took the jacket from the coat hanger. Bill put on the jacket of his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Bill walked back over to the dressing table. Bill opened the top drawer of the dressing table again. Bill took out one white handkerchief and one red pocket square. Bill closed the drawer. Bill put the white handkerchief in his left trouser pocket. Bill laid the red pocket square on the top of the dressing table. Bill brought the bottom point of the red pocket square up to the top point. Bill brought the left corner of the triangle to the right corner and then the right corner to the left corner. Bill folded the bottom almost towards the top. Bill walked over to the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. Bill stood before the mirror. Bill placed the red pocket square in the breast pocket of his grey jacket. Bill looked in the mirror. Bill adjusted the pocket square until just enough of the point was coming out of the pocket. The red point out of the grey pocket. And Bill stepped back. Bill looked at the man in the mirror. And Bill said, I promised I’d come on the Kop long ago. I promised I’d see the games from all parts of Anfield. From all sides of the ground. Because I am a citizen of Liverpool. A citizen of the Kop. The Spion Kop. But I wanted to come here. Onto the Kop. The Spion Kop. To be with all the people. To see all the people. To thank all the people. The people who have done so much for me …

And Bill walked down the stairs. Bill went into the kitchen. Bill ate breakfast with Ness. A slice of toast and honey, a glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of tea. Bill helped Ness clear away the breakfast things. Bill dried up the breakfast things. Bill helped Ness put away the breakfast things. And then Bill walked out into the hall. Bill picked up the paper again. And Bill walked into the front room. Bill sat down in his chair. Bill opened the paper again. Bill turned to the back pages again. The sports pages again. And Bill checked the fixture list again. Bill thinking again, Bill wondering again. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. In the front room, in his chair. Bill knowing again and Bill not knowing again. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. Bill closed the paper again.
Bill put down the paper on the arm of the chair. And then Bill stood up. Bill got to his feet. Bill walked back into the kitchen. And Bill said, I’m just popping out, love. But I might be a while …

OK, said Ness. Then you take care, love.

Bill smiled. Bill kissed Ness on her cheek. And Bill walked out into the hall. Bill opened the cupboard. Bill took out his coat. Bill put on his coat. Bill picked up his hat. Bill put on his hat. Bill closed the cupboard. Bill walked down the hall. Bill opened the front door. And Bill stared down the drive at the car. At the front door, on their doorstep. Bill still thinking, Bill still wondering. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. In the morning and in the silence. Bill then knowing and Bill then not knowing. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. And Bill stepped out into the drive. Bill turned back to the front door. Bill closed the door. Bill walked down the drive. Bill got into his car. Bill put the key into the ignition. Bill turned the key in the ignition. And Bill pulled out of the drive. Bill drove down the West Derby Road. And Bill saw the people walking in the street. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. Bill turned onto the Belmont Road. And Bill saw the people queuing for the buses. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. But Bill did not turn onto the Anfield Road. And Bill did not park in the Anfield Road car park. Bill turned into a side street. And Bill parked in the side street. Bill took the key out of the ignition. And Bill waited. Bill thinking again, Bill wondering again. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. In the car, behind the wheel. Bill knowing again and Bill not knowing again. Whether he should go or whether he should not go. But in the car, behind the wheel. Bill saw all the people walking down the side street. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. Bill saw all the people walking towards the ground, the Anfield ground. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. And Bill got out of the car. Bill turned up the collar of his coat, Bill pulled down the brim of his hat. And now Bill walked with the people. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. Bill walked with the people towards the ground, the Anfield ground. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. Bill walking, Bill walking. His collar up, his brim down. Bill walking, Bill walking. Nearer and nearer. Bill not daring to look, Bill not daring to see. Closer and closer. Until Bill was at the turnstile, until Bill had his hand in his pocket. The change 
across the counter, the ticket in his hand. And Bill was there, now Bill was here. Inside the ground, the Anfield ground. The collar of his coat still buttoned up, the brim of his hat still pulled down. Walking up the steps, walking onto the Kop. With the people, among the people. On the Kop, the Spion Kop. Now Bill looked and now Bill saw. All the people, all the people. In their scarves, their Liverpool scarves. Bill looked and Bill saw. And now the people looked and now the people saw. On Saturday 22 November, 1975. At ten to three. From every stand in Anfield. From every corner of the ground. People saw the Kop begin to part. Behind the goal. The Spion Kop forming a circle. A circle around one man. Around Bill. On the Kop. The Spion Kop. People patting his back, people shaking his hand. They gave him scarves, they offered him sweets. A stick of gum. A Murray mint –

Stand here, the people said. Stand here, Bill …

You’ll get a better view from here, Bill …

And Bill thanked the people. One by one. Every one. Bill thanked them all. One by one. Every one. Bill patted their backs, Bill shook their hands. One by one. Each and every one. And then Bill raised his hands above his head. And Bill turned around. Bill looked up into the Kop. The Spion Kop. And Bill applauded the Kop. The Spion Kop. And Bill thanked the Kop. The Spion Kop. And now the Kop sang. Now the Spion Kop roared,
Shankly is a Kopite, Shankly is a Kopite, SHANKLY IS A KOPITE!