David Peace - Red or Dead

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, the away dressing room. In their kits and in their boots. Jim Furnell, Gerry Byrne, Ronnie Moran, Gordon Milne, Ron Yeats, Tommy Leishman, Ian Callaghan, Roger Hunt, Kevin Lewis, Jimmy Melia and Alan A’Court were shaking, too. Not with nerves, but with laughter –

And it’s taken them all bloody morning to repaint those goals, said Bill Shankly. So it’s no bloody wonder Harry Catterick’s looking glummer than usual, lads. By, he’s a miserable man is Harry. And I’ve just seen him, lads. In the corridor. And he’s looking even glummer today, lads. Even more miserable than usual. And I know why, lads. I know why. Because I said to him, I said to Harry, All that money you have and the only player you can find to buy is one we don’t want. A player we don’t need. That lad Morrissey. I said to Harry, You know why we don’t want him, why we let you have him? Because he’s only got the one leg has Morrissey. His right leg. And he needs that one to stand on. So he was no use to us. That one-legged lad. And so you did us a favour, Harry. Taking Johnny Morrissey, poor Johnny Morrissey. So thank you, Harry, I said, Thank you very much, Harry. It was very good of you, Harry. It was very kind of you …

But in their kits and in their boots. Jim Furnell, Gerry Byrne, Ronnie Moran, Gordon Milne, Ron Yeats, Tommy Leishman, Ian Callaghan, Roger Hunt, Kevin Lewis, Jimmy Melia and Alan A’Court were no longer listening to Bill Shankly. Now in their kits and in their boots. Jim Furnell, Gerry Byrne, Ronnie Moran, Gordon Milne, Ron Yeats, Tommy Leishman, Ian Callaghan, Roger Hunt, Kevin Lewis, Jimmy Melia and Alan A’Court were listening to the voices of the seventy-two thousand, four hundred and eighty-eight folk inside Goodison Park. In their kits and in their boots. They were listening and they were trembling. Not with laughter, now with fear. Their faces pale and their legs shaking. They could hardly stand, they could hardly walk. Out of the away dressing room, down the Goodison corridor. Onto the pitch and into the arena. Into the arena. The arena waiting,

waiting and baying, baying for blood,

their red, red blood –

In the first minute, the very first minute, Jim Furnell collected the ball, his back to the Park end, the noise from the Park end deafening, Furnell still trembling as he bounced the ball once, trying to steady himself, steady himself to kick the ball back up the field, the referee already running back up the field, his back to Furnell, Furnell bouncing the ball, Furnell dropping the ball, the ball running loose, Roy Vernon nipping in, Vernon saying, Thank you very much, Jim. Thank you very much as he rolled the ball into the net, into the net as the crowd roared with laughter, roared in celebration as Furnell held his head in his hands, his head in his hands and the ball in the goal –

Now the referee turned. Now the referee blew his whistle. And the referee shook his head. The referee disallowed the goal. The referee awarded a free kick to Liverpool Football Club. A free kick for an infringement by Vernon on Furnell. And now the crowd roared, roared with indignation, roared with injustice, shouting of cheat and deceit, of robbery and theft, baying for righteousness, righteousness and the blood of the referee, his red, red blood –

And the players of Liverpool Football Club stared down at the ground, the pitch and the grass. The players of Liverpool Club would not look up. From the ground, the pitch and the grass. The players of Liverpool Football Club could not look up. And seven minutes later, the ball was in the back of their net again. But again the referee blew his whistle. Again the referee shook his head. Again the referee disallowed the goal. Again the referee awarded a free kick to Liverpool Football Club. A free kick for an offside against Stevens. And again the crowd roared with indignation, roared with injustice, shouting of cheat and deceit, of robbery and theft, baying for righteousness, righteousness and the blood of the referee, his red, red blood. And still the players of Liverpool Football Club stared down at the ground, the pitch and the grass. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club would not look up. From the ground, the pitch and the grass. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club could not look up. And now Everton came at them again. Again and again. Ball after ball. Into the Liverpool penalty area. Again and again. Ball after ball until one ball, one ball bounced up against the hand of Gerry Byrne, the hand of Gerry Byrne in the Liverpool penalty area. And again the referee blew his whistle. But now the referee nodded. And now the referee pointed to the penalty spot. And now Vernon placed the ball upon the penalty spot. And Vernon placed the ball in the back of the Liverpool goal. And now the crowd roared with laughter, roared in celebration, in celebration of justice, of justice done –

But now, in amongst that laughter, in amongst that celebration, now other voices began to rise, began to echo, quietly and slowly, then louder and faster. LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL …

And now the players of Liverpool Football Club looked up from the ground, from the pitch and from the grass. Now the players of Liverpool Football Club looked for each other. And on the pitch and on the grass. They found each other. And now the players of Liverpool Football Club looked for the ball. And they found the ball. And now they moved forward with the ball, forward with each other, into the Everton half, towards the Everton goal, Callaghan hooking the ball into the Everton penalty area, Lewis hitting that ball, hitting that ball on the volley, on the volley and into the back of the Everton net, the ball in the back of the Everton goal. And now it was one-all –

At half-time in the dressing room. In the away dressing room at Goodison Park. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett went from player to player. Praising each player, encouraging each player. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett filling each player with confidence, filling each player with belief. Confidence in themselves, belief in themselves. Confidence in each other, belief in each other. In themselves and in each other. And now the players were listening to Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett. Now the players were not listening to the voices of the seventy-two thousand, four hundred and eighty-eight folk inside Goodison Park. Now they stood back up, now they walked back out. Back out of the dressing room, back down the corridor. Back onto the pitch, back into the arena. Still hearing those words of Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett, still hearing that chant of LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL …

In the second half, the players of Liverpool Football Club played with enthusiasm, they played with thrust. But the players of Everton Football Club had the guile, they had the skill. In the sixty-third minute, a shot from Vernon was blocked, blocked only to fall to Johnny Morrissey. Morrissey shot but Ronnie Moran got to the ball. The ball on the line. And Moran cleared the ball off the line. But the referee blew his whistle. The referee nodded. And the referee said the ball had crossed the line. Into the goal. And the referee awarded a goal. A goal to Everton. A goal to Johnny Morrissey. His first for Everton Football Club. And the players of Liverpool Football Club looked to the bench, the Liverpool bench. And the players of Liverpool Football Club saw Bill Shankly. Up on his feet, his finger in the air. Pointing into the air, pointing to the voices. In the air, the Liverpool voices. LI–VER- POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL . Bill Shankly with his arms outstretched now, Bill Shankly with his palms open now. Urging his boys to keep their eyes from the ground, urging his lads to keep their heads up. To keep looking for each other, to keep looking for the ball. To keep going forward, forward to the goal. Bill Shankly never looking at the clock, Bill Shankly never looking at his watch. Bill Shankly knowing the time, the time would come. On the wing, down the wing. In the eighty-ninth minute, Alan A’Court looped the ball into the centre of the Everton penalty area. Kevin Lewis headed the ball down. Down to the feet of Roger Hunt. And Roger Hunt rolled the ball across the line. Across the line, into the net. The net of the goal that had been painted red overnight, that had taken the groundsmen all morning to clean and repaint, that Everton goal that was now red again, red again in the eighty-ninth minute –