David Peace - Red or Dead

Bill Shankly stood up. And Bill Shankly said, There you go, lads. Just look at that! That looks like Anfield, lads. Like Anfield …

The two little lads stood up. The two little lads stared back down at their castle. Their fortress. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. And the two little lads smiled. They beamed –

And Bill Shankly said, But you know what it needs now, lads? The only thing missing? We need a red flag, lads …

But then on the beach, then on the sands. The Blackpool sands. A football fell out of the sky. The Blackpool sky. And onto their castle. Their fortress. Destroyed and ruined. With one bad kick, with one wrong ball. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. The two little lads turned to Bill Shankly. The two little lads looked up to Bill Shankly. With their lips trembling and with their eyes filling. On the beach and on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Bill Shankly picked up the ball. The football. Bill Shankly turned around. Bill Shankly saw an older boy coming towards them. The older boy saying, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mister. It was just a bad kick …

On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. Bill Shankly looked at the older boy. The older boy in a blue football shirt. A blue Scotland shirt. Bill Shankly smiled. And Bill Shankly said, Aye, son. Aye. A bad kick, a terrible kick, son. Looks like you need help from a master. A master player, son …

And Bill Shankly turned to the two little lads. On the beach, on the sands. The Blackpool sands. And Bill Shankly said, Come on, boys. Come on! Let’s get our revenge, boys! Let’s teach them a lesson! And show them how we play, boys …

John Roberts telephoned Bill. Bill knew John. John worked on the Daily Express. John had written about Liverpool Football Club for the Daily Express. John had talked with Bill about Liverpool Football Club. And Bill had shouted at John about Liverpool Football Club. But John had smiled at Bill. John had listened to Bill. And Bill liked John. John had also written a book. The Team That Wouldn’t Die: The Story of the Busby Babes. Now John wanted to write another book. And so John asked Bill if he would like to tell his tale. His life story. John told Bill people wanted to hear his tale. His story. John told Bill people would be happy to hear his tale. His story. And so if Bill would like to tell his tale. His story. Then John would like to help Bill write his story. His autobiography. And John said Christopher Falkus of Weidenfeld & Nicolson would like to publish Bill’s autobiography. His book. Christopher Falkus had published Matt’s autobiography. His book. Soccer at the Top: My Life in Football . Bill had read Matt’s autobiography. His book. And Bill had enjoyed Matt’s book. And so Bill said, Yes. If people want to hear my tale. Then I will tell my tale. If it will make people happy. Then I will write my story.

Most afternoons. After Bill had finished his training at Bellefield. And Bill came home. Most afternoons. In the front room, in his chair. In his red tracksuit top. Most afternoons. Bill talked to John. About the morning training, about the morning game. The goal he had laid on, the knock he had picked up. Most afternoons. John listened. And John smiled. And then John asked Bill about the past. And most afternoons. In his chair, his red tracksuit top. For tape after tape. Bill talked and Bill walked. Most afternoons. Down Memory Lane. For chapter after chapter. Life in Glenbuck. The Road South. Change at Haltwhistle. Acting Corporal. Bitter End, New Beginnings. Law and Wilson. St John and Yeats. Body and Soul. Never Walk Alone. The New Team. A Boy Called Keegan. Triumph Again. And Goodbye Anfield. Chapter after chapter, tape after tape. Bill talked and Bill walked. Most afternoons. Down Memory Lane. With the managers he had known, with the players he had known. Until Auld Lang Syne. And the tapes were full and the chapters written. The tale told and the book finished. SHANKLY by Bill Shankly. The book published. And the book banned from sale in the official club shop at Anfield.

In the house, in their bedroom. Bill walked over to the bed. Bill picked up the jacket from the bed. The freshly cleaned grey jacket. Bill took the jacket from the coat hanger. Bill put on the jacket. Bill walked over to the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. Bill looked at the man in the mirror. In his grey jacket. The jacket too big. His red shirt. The collar too big. And Bill said, You couldn’t even get from Carlisle to Preston on the train now for forty pound …

And now Bill heard footsteps on the stairs. Bill heard Ness tap on the bedroom door. And Ness opened the door –

They’re ready, love. They’re waiting …

Bill nodded. And Bill said, Thanks, love. I’m coming now.

And Bill closed the wardrobe door. Bill walked out of the bedroom. Bill walked down the stairs. Bill opened the front door. Bill went out of the house. Bill closed the front door. Bill walked down the drive. Bill walked over to the television crew. The television crew from Scottish Television. Bill shook hands with the television crew. The cameraman and the sound man. Bill shook hands again with the interviewer. The English interviewer from Scottish Television. And Bill said, So where do you want to do this? Where do you want me?

Just over here will be fine, said the interviewer.

In the sunshine. In the street. With cars passing and with dogs barking. Bill followed the interviewer to the spot they had marked. In the sunshine. In the street. In his grey jacket. His big grey jacket. And his red shirt. With its big red collar. Bill looked up at the camera. Into the television camera. And then Bill looked away. His hands in his pockets. Deep in his pockets. Bill looked down. Down at his shoes, down at the ground. Deep under the ground –

Bill, said the interviewer. Bill?

And Bill looked up.

Let’s start at the beginning …

Yes.

Glenbuck? Some place, Glenbuck?

Well, at one time it was interesting. But you saw it. I mean, it’s derelict now. But that’s only one of a hundred villages that are derelict.

When we were down there, said the interviewer, somebody said, Oh, I remember Bill Shankly. He was never off the hills. Running up and down. Training. Playing in your pit boots …

Bill nodded. And Bill said, Ah well, yes. I mean, everybody, when you were boys, had big boots. They lasted longer, you know? With toe plates in them. Steel toe plates …

And Bill laughed. And Bill said, I mean, it’s sure to break somebody’s leg if you kicked them …

But how hard was it? Because I mean, to us, somebody of my generation, I mean, you say, Gosh, you can’t live like that?

Bill nodded.

Big family, ten of you …

Yeah.

Small house …

Well, in the village there were some people had twelve of a family. And fourteen. Yes, it was hard. But I mean, not as hard as it would look, really. Because I mean, if there’s a group of boys. Sisters and brothers. And you’ve got a good mother and father. You stick together. And you make things easier for each other. I mean, it’s like playing football. You play collectively and then you’re very difficult to beat. But if you’ve individuals in your team, then your team will fall down. Well, we were a team. And we helped each other.

And let’s set the record straight about Glenbuck Cherrypickers. Famous team. But, in fact, you never really played for them, did you?

I played a trial when I were sixteen year old. And that season, they went defunct. They finished. That was their last season as a team. And so then, later on, I went to a little village called Cronberry. Near Cumnock. And played for Cronberry. Yeah.