David Peace - Red or Dead

…

Three days after Liverpool Football Club had knocked FC Cologne out of the European Cup on the toss of a coin. Three days after Liverpool Football Club had played one hundred and twenty minutes of football, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Villa Park, Birmingham. That afternoon, sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk came, too. Liverpool folk and London folk. Sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Chelsea Football Club in the semi-final of the FA Cup –

Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room at Villa Park, Birmingham. Bill Shankly took a brochure from his pocket. A brochure for the FA Cup Final. A brochure printed by Chelsea Football Club. Bill Shankly held up the brochure. The Chelsea Cup Final brochure. Bill Shankly made sure every player, every player of Liverpool Football Club, could see this brochure, this Chelsea Cup Final brochure –

That mob from London think they have already won this game, said Bill Shankly. Already won this match. That mob think we are drained, that mob think we are exhausted. Already beaten. They think they have won the game, they think they have won the match. That mob think they are already in the final. Already at Wembley. Because that London mob are arrogant, because that London mob are ignorant. But that London mob know nothing. Nothing about Liverpool Football Club! Because we are never drained, we are never exhausted. Not you boys and not our supporters. Never! And so Liverpool Football Club are never beaten. Never beaten!

On Saturday 27 March, 1965, at Villa Park, Birmingham, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not drained. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not exhausted. They sang and they roared. And out on the pitch, the players of Liverpool Football Club heard their songs, they heard their roars. And the players of Liverpool Football Club were no longer drained, no longer exhausted. Neither mentally nor physically. The players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. The players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. The players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And the players of Chelsea Football Club could only stand and watch. They watched and they waited. They waited for the players of Liverpool Football Club to run themselves into the ground. Into the pitch. To lie prostrate upon the pitch. Drained and exhausted, exhausted and beaten. But still the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For ten minutes. For twenty minutes. For thirty minutes. For forty minutes. For fifty minutes. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And after sixty minutes, Stevenson found Thompson with a long cross-field pass. Thompson dummied Hinton and Murray. Thompson cut between Hinton and Murray. In a flash, in the space, Thompson shot. And Thompson scored. And the supporters of Liverpool Football Club cheered, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club roared. And again the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For seventy minutes. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And just before the eightieth minute, Harris upended St John in the Chelsea penalty area. The referee blew his whistle. The referee pointed to the penalty spot. Stevenson grabbed the ball. Stevenson placed the ball on the penalty spot. Stevenson stepped back. Stevenson stepped up. Stevenson shot. And Stevenson scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club two — nil. The players of Liverpool Football Club not drained, the players of Liverpool Football Club not exhausted. They were jubilant and they were triumphant. And never beaten. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club sang, Ee-aye-addio, we’re going to win the Cup …

After the whistle, the final whistle. Tommy Docherty, the manager of Chelsea Football Club, walked down the touchline to Bill Shankly. Tommy Docherty shook hands with Bill Shankly. And Tommy Docherty said, I don’t understand it, Bill. You had a hard game in midweek. I just don’t understand it, Bill. All our boys were fit and fresh. But today you were fitter and you were fresher, Bill. You were by far the better side. Congratulations, Bill. Congratulations.

Thank you, said Bill Shankly. And then Bill Shankly smiled. Bill Shankly took out the brochure from his coat pocket. And Bill Shankly handed the brochure to Tommy Docherty.

Tommy Docherty looked down at the brochure. The Chelsea brochure for the FA Cup Final. Tommy Docherty shook his head. And Tommy Docherty said, What’s this, Bill? What on earth is this?

Just a wee souvenir for you, said Bill Shankly. A little something for you to remember us by, Tommy. A Cup Final souvenir.

In the house, in their hall. The letters never stopped coming. The first post and the second post. The letters always coming. The letters asking for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. In the house, at their door. The callers never stopped knocking. Early in the morning, late in the evening. The callers always knocking. The callers begging for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. In the house, in their hall. The telephone never stopped ringing. Early in the morning, late in the evening. The telephone always ringing. The calls pleading for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. And in the house, in their hall. The telephone was still ringing. But now Bill had to go. The telephone still ringing. Bill put on his coat. The telephone still ringing. Bill put on his hat. The telephone still ringing. Bill opened the front door. The telephone still ringing. Bill stepped outside. The telephone still ringing. Bill closed the door. The telephone still ringing. Bill walked down the drive. In the street, children spotted him. The children called out to him. Bill waved at them. The children asked Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill apologised to them. Bill got into his car. Bill drove down the West Derby Road. On the pavements, people spotted him. People waved at him. Bill waved back. People begged Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill apologised to them. Bill turned onto Belmont Road. Again, people waved at him. Again, Bill waved back. Again, people pleaded with Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And again, Bill apologised to them. Bill turned into Anfield Road. Again, there were crowds of people. In the car park. Bill parked his car. Bill got out of his car. The crowds of people saw Bill. The crowds of people rushed to Bill. The crowds of people asked Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. They begged and they pleaded. Bill pushed through the crowds of people. And Bill apologised. Bill apologised and Bill apologised. And Bill went inside Anfield. The telephones ringing. Bill went up the stairs. The telephones ringing. Bill went down the corridor. The telephones ringing. Bill tapped on the office door. The telephones ringing. The office door of the club secretary. The telephones ringing. Bill opened the door. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the camp bed in the corner. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the bags of mail standing on the floor. The telephones ringing. The bags and bags of mail. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the stacks of letters on the desk. The telephones ringing. The stacks and stacks of letters. The telephones ringing. And Bill looked at Jimmy McInnes. The telephones ringing. Jimmy sat behind his desk. The telephones ringing. Among the letters. The telephones ringing. The stacks and stacks of letters. The telephones ringing. And Bill saw the circles under the eyes of Jimmy McInnes. The telephones ringing. The black, dark circles under Jimmy’s eyes. The telephones ringing. Bill picked up one of the phones on Jimmy’s desk. And Bill said, Yes, what do you want, sir?