David Peace - Red or Dead

The day after Bill Shankly turned fifty, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the City Ground, Nottingham. And Liverpool Football Club drew nil — nil with Nottingham Forest. Four days after that, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Stamford Bridge, London. In the ninth minute, Ian St John scored. In the seventy-second minute, Roger Hunt scored. And in the last minute, the very last minute, St John scored again. And Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club three — one. Two days later, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Molineux, Wolverhampton. In the first minute, the very first minute, Roger Hunt scored. In the fifty-fifth minute, Jimmy Melia scored. And in the sixty-ninth minute, Hunt scored again. And Liverpool Football Club beat Wolverhampton Wanderers three — one. Five days later, West Ham United came to Anfield. That afternoon, forty-five thousand, four hundred and ninety-seven folk came, too. And in the sixty-fifth minute, Roger Hunt scored. But that afternoon, Liverpool Football Club still lost two — one to West Ham United. At home, at Anfield. Liverpool Football Club had played three games. And Liverpool Football Club had lost all three games. At home,

at Anfield. Two days later. In the dressing room, the home dressing room. There was no Tommy Lawrence. Tommy Lawrence was injured. There was no Ian St John. Ian St John was injured. In the dressing room, the home dressing room. Bill Shankly closed the door. And Bill Shankly went from player to player. From Furnell to Byrne, Byrne to Moran, Moran to Milne, Milne to Yeats, Yeats to Ferns, Ferns to Stevenson, Stevenson to Callaghan, Callaghan to Hunt, Hunt to Arrowsmith, Arrowsmith to Melia and from Melia to Thompson. And Bill Shankly sat down beside each player, Bill Shankly put an arm around each player. And Bill Shankly spoke to each player –

I know you want to do well, said Bill Shankly. I know you want to play well, son. For Liverpool Football Club, for this crowd tonight. But I also know the pressure that brings. That desire to do well. That desire to play well. The pressure of that desire. The desire to please this crowd. The desire to please these people. And I know the weight that brings. The weight of that expectation. It is heavy. I know. That pressure. I know. That weight. But remember this. If I did not feel you could play well. If I did not feel you could carry that weight. Then I would not have bought you, son. And I would not have picked you. I bought you, son. And I picked you. Because I know you can carry that weight, son. Because I know you are the best …

In the first minute, the very first minute, Alf Arrowsmith scored his first goal, his very first goal for Liverpool Football Club. In the thirty-third minute, Peter Thompson scored his first goal, his very first goal for Liverpool Football Club. In the fifty-seventh minute, Ian Callaghan scored. In the sixty-seventh minute, Roger Hunt scored. In the seventy-ninth minute, Gordon Milne scored. And in the eighty-seventh minute, Hunt scored again. And Liverpool Football Club beat Wolverhampton Wanderers six — nil. Six — nil. At home, at Anfield.

Five days later, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Bramall Lane, Sheffield. And no one scored for Liverpool Football Club. And Liverpool Football Club lost three — nil to Sheffield United.

On Saturday 28 September, 1963, Everton Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-one thousand, nine hundred and seventy-three folk came, too. The game had been sold out for weeks, the gates had been locked for hours. Before the kick-off. Bill Shankly walked down the corridor. Bill Shankly opened the dressing-room door. Bill Shankly stepped inside the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill Shankly closed the dressing-room door. Bill Shankly took off his hat. Bill Shankly hung his hat on the back of the door. And Bill Shankly looked around the dressing room. From player to player. From Lawrence to Byrne, Byrne to Ferns, Ferns to Milne, Milne to Yeats, Yeats to Stevenson, Stevenson to Callaghan, Callaghan to Hunt, Hunt to St John, St John to Melia and from Melia to Thompson. And Bill Shankly smiled. Bill Shankly took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Bill Shankly pinned the piece of paper to the wall of the dressing room. The home dressing-room wall –

I’ve just seen Harry, said Bill Shankly. Old Harry Catterick, lads. In the corridor. By, he’s a miserable man is Harry. He’s always miserable is Harry. But he’s not only miserable today. Today he’s tired, too. Exhausted. Knackered. And shattered. And he’s not the only one. They are all tired. All exhausted, all knackered. The whole team shattered. And do you know why, lads? Do you know why they are all so tired? So exhausted, knackered and shattered?

In the dressing room, on the benches. In their kits and in their boots. The players of Liverpool Football Club looked at Bill Shankly. And the players of Liverpool Football Club shook their heads.

Bill Shankly smiled again. And Bill Shankly tapped the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall of the dressing room –

Because of this, said Bill Shankly. This, lads …

In the dressing room, on the benches. In their kits and in their boots. The players of Liverpool Football Club stared up at the piece of paper pinned to the dressing-room wall. The piece of paper, a map of Europe. A map of Europe with one big thick red line drawn across it. One big thick red line drawn from Liverpool to Milan.

Bill Shankly put his finger on the piece of paper. On the map of Europe. Bill Shankly moved his finger along the red line from Liverpool to Milan. And then Bill Shankly moved his finger back along the red line from Milan back to Liverpool –

Do you know how far it is, asked Bill Shankly. How far it is from Liverpool to Milan, lads?

In the dressing room, on the benches. In their kits and in their boots. The players of Liverpool Football Club stared at the piece of paper pinned to the dressing-room wall. Again. The players of Liverpool Football Club shook their heads.

Well, I’ll tell you, said Bill Shankly. I’ll tell you, lads. It’s eight hundred miles. As the crow flies. From Liverpool to Milan. And it’s eight hundred miles back again. As the crow flies. That’s one thousand, six hundred miles, lads. So that’s how far Everton Football Club have travelled this past week. One thousand, six hundred miles! And I’ll tell you this, lads. I’ll tell you this. When you’ve been beaten. When you’ve been knocked out of the European Cup. That will feel more than one thousand, six hundred miles, lads. That will feel more like ten thousand miles, lads. One million miles! And you know what, lads? You know what old Harry had them doing? The minute they got back from Milan. After they had been beaten. After they had been knocked out the European Cup. After they had travelled one thousand, six hundred miles. You know what old Harry had them all doing? The very next day? The day after they got back from Milan in Italy?

In the dressing room, on the benches. In their kits and in their boots. The players of Liverpool Football Club stared up at Bill Shankly. And the players of Liverpool Football Club shook their heads.

Well, I’ll tell you, said Bill Shankly again. I’ll tell you, lads. Because I know. Because I could see them. From my house, from my window. I could see what Harry had them doing. And you won’t believe it, boys. You just won’t believe it. The day after they got back. The day after they were beaten by Internazionale of Milan. The day after they were knocked out of the European Cup. The day after they had travelled one thousand, six hundred miles. Harry had them doing a commando course. A commando course, boys! Up at Bellefield. Running the legs off them. But I know why, lads. I know why Harry did it. Because he knows how fit you all are. How hard you all train. And so he was worried was Harry. And so he’s trying to keep up with our training. But he can’t, boys. They can’t. And Harry’s delusional if he thinks they can. The man is simply delusional. Even on a good day. And this was not a good day. This was the day after they got back from Milan. The day after they had been beaten by Internazionale of Milan. They day after they had been knocked out of the European Cup. The day after they had travelled one thousand, six hundred miles. A very bad day. But I could see them, boys. From my house, from my window. I could see them. And I tell you, boys. I tell you. They were exhausted. They were knackered. And they were shattered. They couldn’t keep up. They were dropping like flies. Left, right and centre. Dropping like flies they were, boys. The lot of them. So they are already finished, boys. They are already beaten. Before the whistle’s even been blown, before they’ve even kicked a ball. So all you have to do today, boys. All you have to do today is finish the job. Finish the job, boys. And put them out of their misery. For Chrissakes, lads. You’ll be doing them a favour. So for the love of God, boys. Please put them out of their misery, lads. Out of their bloody misery …