Red or Dead (25 page)

To type and to type and to type. To type and to type and to type. Letter after letter after letter. Letter after letter after letter –

To type and to type and to type. Letter after letter after letter.

…

In the house, in their front room. The lights on the Christmas tree blinked on and off in the corner. On and off, on and off. In the quiet house, their warm room. Bill had just lost again at Scrabble. Ness was putting away the tiles, the racks and the board. Bill looked at his watch. Bill smiled. And Bill said, I think I’ll just give Don a quick ring, love. Just to wish him and his family a merry Christmas.

It’s a bit late, said Ness. Don’t you think he’ll be in bed, love?

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, Not Don, love. No. I know Don, I know Don. He’ll be fretting and worrying about the game tomorrow. He’ll be a glad of a chat. He’ll be glad of a call, will Don.

Well, I’m going up, love. So try to keep your voice down.

I will, love. I will. Goodnight, love. Goodnight.

Bill picked up his address book from the arm of the chair. Bill went out into the hallway. Bill switched on the hall light. Bill found Don Revie’s number in his address book. Bill picked up the receiver. Bill dialled Don’s number. Bill listened to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And then Bill heard Don say, Hello? Hello? Who is it?

And Bill said, It’s me, Don. Only me. It’s Bill. Only Bill. I just thought I’d give you a quick ring before the game, before the match tomorrow. Oh, it’ll be a great game, Don. A great game. A big crowd, too, Don. A very big crowd. They’ll be wanting to see a repeat of the Cup Final. Well, our lot will be. Not your lot, I suppose. But I hope you are as ready as we are, Don. Because we are ready for you. I can tell you that, Don. Tell you that for nothing. And I tell you another thing, Don. I’ll tell you this. I think we are a better side now than we were last season. To be very honest with you, Don. And not to be arrogant, Don. Just to be honest with you. I think we are going to walk the League. And the Cup. And the Cup Winners’ Cup. That’s my feeling, Don. That’s my feeling. Because I tell you, Don. I think this is the finest side in England since the war. The very finest. I don’t know what you think, Don? But I can’t see a weakness in us. Not one. From the back to the front. I think we have it all. And we are improving. Improving all the time. Every game. That’s the incredible thing to me,
Don. The wonder of this team to me. I think I’ve seen the best of them. But no, Don. Oh no! The next game, the next match. They are even better. Better than the last game, the last match. Much, much better. I know Tommy Lawrence has his critics. But for me, Don. For me, he is the finest keeper in the League. I’m sure you agree, Don. I’m sure you agree with me. And the younger boys we have. Lawler and Smith. I tell you, Don. I tell you. Those two would walk into any side there has ever been. Any side. And make that side a better side. A much, much better side. And then when you combine that youth and that enthusiasm with the age and with the wisdom of the likes of Gerry Byrne and Gordon Milne, Ronnie Yeats and Willie Stevenson. Well, it’s not fair, is it, Don? Let’s be honest, Don. It’s just not fair on the other teams. On other sides. And as for the front four. Well, what can I say, Don? What more can I say? Really, truly, what words are there left to say about those four? Callaghan, Hunt, St John and Thompson. Yes, there might well be individuals who are as talented.
Individually.
There might be, yes. Perhaps. Your Jimmy Greaves, your Denis Law. But come on, Don. Come on, man. As a
team
. Well, there is not a better balance, not a better combination. Not a better team than this Liverpool team. And we both know that’s what it’s about, Don. What this game is all about.
Teams
. The balance and the combination. Not the individual, not the superstar. Because this is a team game, a team sport, is it not, Don? Is it not? It’s about how you play as a team. Not as an individual. With a good game here and a good game there. It’s about the team. Week in, week out. Game after game, match after match. How the team plays. And so I tell you, Don. I tell you this. I have simply not seen a better team than this one. This Liverpool team. Not with my eyes. Not in my lifetime. Well, Don. I won’t keep you. I won’t keep you up. I’ll see you tomorrow, Don. I’ll see you at Anfield. So you sleep well, Don. Sleep well. Goodnight, Don. Goodnight …

On the bench, the Anfield bench. In bitter air, in biting wind. Bill heard the carols, the Christmas carols. Fifty-three thousand, four hundred and thirty folk singing carols, Christmas carols. To thaw the air, to warm the wind. To boil the air, to burn the wind. But on the ground, the frozen-solid ground, on the pitch, the rock-hard pitch. There was no cheer, no Christmas cheer. And there was no goodwill, no seasonal goodwill. There was only battle and there was only fight.
Body against body, man against man. Red man against white man. In bitter air, in biting wind. Bone and muscle, earth and leather. Grinding bone and straining muscle, white earth and black leather. In bitter air, in biting wind. Minute after minute. In the fourteenth minute, Reaney hit the ball straight at Lawrence. Lawrence beat the ball away. Yeats ground bone, Yeats crossed earth. Lorimer strained muscle, Lorimer found leather. In bitter air, in biting wind. Lorimer shot. And Lorimer scored. And in bitter air, in biting wind. Leeds United Association Football Club beat Liverpool Football Club one–nil. It was the first defeat for Liverpool Football Club in ten matches, the first defeat since Saturday 23 October, 1965. And in the bitter air, in the biting wind. Bill walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Bill shook Don Revie’s hand. Bill half smiled. And Bill said, Well, never say I never give you anything for Christmas, Don. Merry Christmas to you, Don. And I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Don. Tomorrow …

On their bench, their bench at Elland Road. Across the
bone-hard
ground, over the sand-coated pitch. The black ice and the driving snow. Bill watched and Bill waited. And in the forty-eighth minute, Thompson turned. Thompson beat his man. Thompson fed Hunt. Hunt jumped Charlton’s tackle. Hunt reached the byline. Exact and precise, low and diagonal. Hunt passed to Milne. Milne shot. And Milne scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Leeds United Association Football Club one–nil. Away from home, away at Elland Road. And across the bone-hard ground, over the sand-coated pitch. The black ice and the driving snow. The only voices were the Liverpool voices. Rising from the banks, reaching into the sky. Into the sky, the black, winter sky. Red voices, germinal voices. Holy voices …

On their bus, their Liverpool bus. Through the streets, the Leeds streets. Bill stared out through the window, the bus window. At these streets, these Leeds streets. And on these streets, these Yorkshire streets. Bill saw some boys, three young lads. Red scarves around their necks, thin coats upon their backs. Their white faces to the road, the deserted road, their blue thumbs to the sky, the empty sky. And on their bus, their Liverpool bus. Bill stood up. And Bill called down to the driver, Pull up. Pull up!

The driver stopped the bus. The driver opened the doors. And Bill got off the bus. And Bill called to the boys, Climb on board, lads.
Climb on board! We’ll take you home, boys. We’ll take you home.

Bill brought the boys onto the bus. Bill made space for the boys on the bus. Bill got them sandwiches. Sandwiches from the players. Bill got them autographs. Autographs from the players. Bill asked the boys about the game. Bill asked the boys about the team. Bill asked the boys what they thought about the game. Bill asked the boys what they hoped for the team. Bill listened to the boys. Bill listened to them. All the way back to Liverpool, all the way back home. And when their bus, their Liverpool bus, reached the city centre, the Liverpool city centre. Bill checked the boys had enough money now. Enough money now to get to their homes, their Liverpool homes –

Thank you, said the boys. Thank you for everything …

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, No, boys. No. You don’t have to thank me, boys. You have nothing to thank me for. It’s me who should be thanking you, boys. Thanking you for travelling all the way to Leeds today. In the ice and in the snow. Wearing your red scarves, your Liverpool scarves. To support Liverpool Football Club. So I thank
you
, boys. I thank
you
. For supporting Liverpool Football Club. Because we could do nothing without you, boys –

We would be nothing without you.

On Saturday 1 January, 1966, Manchester United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That New Year’s Day, fifty-three thousand, nine hundred and seventy folk came, too. That New Year’s Day, the gates were locked hours before kick-off. Hundreds of folk, thousands of folk, locked outside Anfield, Liverpool. Hundreds of folk, thousands of folk, among the policemen, the mounted policemen. Refusing to disperse, refusing to go home. Hundreds of folk, thousands of folk already home. Outside Anfield, inside Anfield. In one voice, just one word: LI-VERPOOL. Over and over, in one voice, again and again, just one word. One red word: LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL –

The word ignited the air, the word scorched the wind. But within the first two minutes of the game, Gregg cleared high and far into the air. Law sniffed and chased the wind. Law beat Yeats to the
ball, Law dodged Byrne in the tackle, Law sidestepped Lawrence at his heels, Law shot. And Law scored. But the word did not retreat. The word did not surrender. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Now the word tore through muscle, now the word drilled through bone. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And a shot from Hunt. And a shot from Stevenson. And a shot from St John. And a shot from Smith. All rained down on Gregg beneath his crossbar. There was no shelter from the word. There was no respite from the word. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. In the thirty-ninth minute, Byrne passed to Smith. Smith shrugged off two tackles. Smith took four more strides. And Smith shot. From twenty-five yards out. Fast and hard and low. In off the post. Smith scored. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. But the word was not finished. The word was not satisfied. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. The word insatiable, the word voracious. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. In the last two minutes of the game, St John shot again. Gregg saved again. The ball flew back out of the ruck. Byrne drove the ball back into the ruck. And Milne diverted the ball. Into the net, into a goal. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. The word triumphant, the word victorious. On New Year’s Day, 1966, Liverpool Football Club had thirty-six points. That New Year’s Day, Liverpool Football Club were first in the First Division.

…

On Saturday 22 January, 1966, Chelsea Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-four thousand and
ninety-seven
folk came, too. Fifty-four thousand and ninety-seven folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Chelsea Football Club in the Third Round of the FA Cup. In the second minute, Roger Hunt scored. But in the seventh minute, Osgood equalised. And in the sixty-seventh minute, Tambling scored. And Liverpool Football Club lost two–one to Chelsea Football Club. In silence. The holders of the FA Cup had let go of the Cup. And in silence. Chelsea Football Club took the FA Cup back to London with them. Back to Lancaster Gate, to the headquarters of the Football Association –

For safe keeping.

After the Cup, out of the cup. Bill Shankly closed the dressing-room
door. The home 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 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. Bill Shankly nodded and Bill Shankly smiled –

I know you are all disappointed, boys. I know you are all hurt. I can see it in your faces, boys. In every one of your faces. But what is done is done, boys. What is lost is lost. And so you must not let that disappointment, you must not let that hurt, devour your belief and eat your confidence. Because you are still the best side I have ever seen play, boys. You are still the finest team in England since the war. And so you must believe in yourselves and believe in each other, boys. You must have confidence in yourselves and in each other. And then you will win again, boys. And again and again. That is the only answer to disappointment, that is the only way to deal with hurt. To win, boys. And to win and win again. Until you have won the League. Until Liverpool Football Club are the Champions again. That is the only answer now, boys. That is the only way now. To win and win again, boys. And to be Champions. Champions again, boys!

…

After, later. Liverpool Football Club beat Leicester City one–nil and Liverpool Football Club beat Blackburn Rovers four–one. Then they beat Sunderland Football Club four–nil and then they beat Blackpool Football Club four–one.

On Saturday 26 February, 1966, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Craven Cottage, London. Fulham Football Club were bottom of the First Division. Liverpool Football Club were top of the First Division. That afternoon, thirty-one thousand, six hundred and twenty-six folk came, too. Thirty-one thousand, six hundred and twenty-six folk to watch bottom versus top. Last play first. That afternoon, Ian St John punched Mark Pearson. St John hit Pancho Pearson with a left hook. St John was sent off. And that afternoon, Liverpool Football Club lost two–nil to Fulham Football Club. Away from home, away from Anfield. The bottom had beaten the top, the last had beaten the first.

…

After the dismissal, after the defeat. At Lancaster Gate, in
London. At the headquarters of the Football Association. Bill Shankly and Ian St John walked past the FA Cup. The FA Cup on display, in safe keeping. Bill Shankly and Ian St John sat down in the corridor at Lancaster Gate. Bill Shankly in his best suit and red tie, Ian St John in his best suit and red tie –

Come!

Bill Shankly and Ian St John stood up. Bill Shankly and Ian St John adjusted their red ties. Bill Shankly and Ian St John stepped through the door, into the room. And the head of the FA Disciplinary Panel said, Sit down, Shankly. Sit down, St John.

Bill Shankly and Ian St John walked down to two chairs at the end of a long table. Bill Shankly and Ian St John sat down in the two chairs at the end of the long table. Bill Shankly and Ian St John looked up the long table at the members of the Disciplinary Panel. And the head of the Disciplinary Panel said, Well then, what do you have to say for yourselves? In answer to the charge of violent conduct?

Plenty, said Bill Shankly. Because I have evidence to present to you which I believe will prove the innocence of my player. Evidence that will exonerate him. This evidence is on film. And so, as you are aware, I have arranged to show you a film. To prove the innocence of my player. And to exonerate him of the charge against him.

The head of the Disciplinary Panel said, Go on then, Shankly, show us this little film of yours then.

Bill Shankly got up from his chair at the end of the long table. Bill Shankly walked over to the wall. Bill Shankly switched off the lights. Bill Shankly walked over to the projector. Bill Shankly started the projector. And Bill Shankly showed his little film. His film which showed Mark Pearson of Fulham Football Club pulling the hair of Ian St John of Liverpool Football Club. His film which showed Ian St John turning around and punching Mark Pearson. His film which showed Ian St John hitting Pancho Pearson with a left hook. His film which then showed Ian St John being ordered off the field of play.

After his film, Bill Shankly stopped the projector. Bill Shankly walked back over to the wall. Bill Shankly switched back on the lights. But Bill Shankly did not sit back down in his chair at the end of the long table. Bill Shankly paced the room. The courthouse –

As you can clearly see, said Bill Shankly. See as clear as day.
My player was clearly provoked by the ungentlemanly and unsporting behaviour and conduct of the other player, of the Fulham player. And as I am sure you will all agree, such behaviour, such conduct has no place in the game, in the modern game of football. My player was clearly provoked. My player then simply reacted. And so the charge against him is unfair. The suspension unjust. The most unfair and most unjust in the history of the world. Because my player is an innocent man. The most innocent man in the history of the world!

The members of the Football Association Disciplinary Panel looked down the long table at Bill Shankly and Ian St John. The members of the Football Association Disciplinary Panel shook their heads. And the head of the Football Association Disciplinary Panel said, The Football Association will not tolerate violent conduct on the football pitch. The charge is justified. The suspension stands –

Close the door on your way out, Shankly.

Bill Shankly and Ian St John walked back to the door. Bill Shankly and Ian St John stepped through the door, into the corridor. Bill Shankly and Ian St John closed the door behind them. Bill Shankly and Ian St John walked down the corridor, past the FA Cup, into the street. Bill Shankly and Ian St John stood on the pavement outside the headquarters of the Football Association. And Ian St John said, I am sorry, Boss. I am very sorry …

And so you should be, said Bill Shankly. Next time you make sure you get your retaliation in first. When the referee is not about. So the other feller knows
you
are about. And then he’ll keep away from you. Because he won’t fancy another taste. Another taste of that retaliation. So just remember, son. Always get your retaliation in first.

…

On Monday 28 February, 1966, Liverpool Football Club flew to Brussels, Belgium. Then Liverpool Football Club flew to Cologne, West Germany. Then Liverpool Football Club flew to Budapest, Hungary. To the City of Football, the home of Honvéd Football Club. Honvéd Football Club were the Hungarian Army football team. Ferenc Puskás, Sándor Kocsis, József Bozsik, Zoltán Czibor, László Budai, Gyula Lóránt and Gyula Grosics had all once played for Honvéd Football Club. These players had been the nucleus of the Mighty Magyars. In 1953, the Mighty Magyars beat England 6–3 at
Wembley Stadium. In 1954, the Mighty Magyars beat England 7–1 at the Népstadion, Budapest. On Tuesday 1 March, 1966, Liverpool Football Club came to the Népstadion, the People’s Stadium, to play Honvéd Football Club in the first leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. That evening, sixteen thousand, one hundred and sixty-three folk came, too. Under giant floodlights, before an electric scoreboard. In a stadium that could seat one hundred thousand folk. To a constant chorus of shrill whistles, against a talented but inexperienced Honvéd side. On a perfect pitch, in an all-white strip. Liverpool Football Club drew nil–nil with Honvéd Football Club in Budapest, Hungary. The City of Football.

One week later, Honvéd Football Club travelled to Anfield, Liverpool. To another City of Football, to the New City of Football. That evening, fifty-four thousand, six hundred and thirty-one folk came, too. In the twenty-eighth minute, Callaghan won a corner. The corner was cleared. Thompson crashed the clearance against the post. And Lawler headed home the rebound. In the forty-seventh minute, Callaghan won another corner. Callaghan took a short corner to Thompson. Thompson crossed the ball. The ball eluded a line of Honvéd defenders. But at the end of the line, from the sharpest of angles, St John headed home the ball. And Liverpool Football Club beat Honvéd Football Club two–nil in the second leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. That night, Liverpool Football Club were through to the semi-final of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. In the semi-final of the European Cup Winners’ Cup, Liverpool Football Club would play the Celtic Football Club. Away and then home. Folk had hoped this tie might be the final, folk had dreamt this tie might be the final. But it was still a dream tie. The tie all of Britain had been hoping for, the tie all of Britain had been dreaming of. The tie Bill Shankly had been dreaming of, the tie Bill Shankly had been praying for. One of his dreams, one of his prayers. His many dreams, his many prayers.

…

On Thursday 14 April, 1966, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Parkhead, Glasgow. That night, seventy-six thousand, four hundred and forty-six folk came, too. Seventy-six thousand, four hundred and forty-six folk to watch the leaders of the Scottish First Division play
the leaders of the English First Division in the first leg of the semi-final of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. Seventy-six thousand, four hundred and forty-six folk to watch the Celtic Football Club versus Liverpool Football Club. At Parkhead, in Glasgow. Seventy-six thousand, four hundred and forty-six folk in full voice, in full cry. Their war cry: CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC!

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In their dressing room, their dressing room at Parkhead. Bill Shankly closed door. The dressing-room door shaking. Bill Shankly looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room trembling. Bill Shankly looked 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 Chisnall, Chisnall to St John, St John to Smith and from Smith to Thompson. Bill Shankly saw the fear in their eyes, Bill Shankly heard the terror in their ears –

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC!

Don’t be afraid, said Bill Shankly. Don’t be afraid, boys. You have nothing to fear. Nothing to fear, boys. This is paradise. Football paradise, boys! This is what we dream of, this is what we pray for. Playing at Parkhead, playing in paradise. So enjoy it. Enjoy it, boys. This taste of Parkhead, this taste of paradise. Because remember. Remember, boys. This is only one half of paradise, only one half. Five days from now, Celtic Football Club will be sat in the away dressing room at Anfield. And they will be shaking and they will be trembling. Five days from now, Celtic Football Club will be playing in our paradise. At Anfield. In our paradise, boys …

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!

CEL-TIC!

In the fifty-second minute, Murdoch hammered the ball low
along the Liverpool goal line. At the left-hand post, Chalmers
back-heeled
the ball to Lennox. And Lennox stabbed the ball into the net, into a goal. And the whole of paradise, the whole of Parkhead cried out, CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC! CEL-TIC!