David Peace - Red or Dead

…

On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. Bill watched Hughes pass to St John. St John run to the left, St John run to the right. St John shoot. And St John score. Bill watched St John cross. Hateley fly in. And Hateley score. Bill watched Smith put the ball on the penalty spot. And Smith put the ball in the net. Nine minutes later, Bill watched Hunt score. One minute afterwards, Bill watched Thompson score. And one minute later, Bill watched Hunt score again. And then Callaghan score. And then Callaghan score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. The red night, the red noise. Bill heard the Spion Kop clap, Bill heard the Spion Kop cheer. And Bill heard the Spion Kop sing, God help United, God help United, God help…

On the touchline, the Anfield touchline. Albert Sing, the manager of TSV 1860 München, shook Bill’s hand –

I have never seen a display of attacking football like that, said Albert Sing. The only thing I can think to compare it to is the great Hungarian Golden Team of Puskás, Kocsis, Bozsik and Hidegkuti. And so I only hope my own boys have learnt a lesson. A lesson in how to play football, in how football should be played. And I also hope someone makes a film loop of all those eight goals, those eight beautiful goals, to show to every school in England and every school in Europe. To show every boy in England and every boy in Europe. Because that is how football should be played, Mr Shankly. That is how all boys should play football. So congratulations, Mr Shankly …

Bill said, Thank you, Herr Sing. Thank you very much, sir.

Bill walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Bill walked down the tunnel. The Anfield tunnel. Bill walked into the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. From player to player. From Tommy Lawrence to Chris Lawler, Chris to Gerry Byrne, Gerry to Tommy Smith, Tommy to Ron Yeats, Ronnie to Emlyn Hughes, Emlyn to Ian Callaghan, Cally to Roger Hunt, Roger to Tony Hateley, Tony to Ian St John and from the Saint to Peter Thompson. And Bill smiled. And Bill said, Well played, boys. Well played.

…

In the front room, in his chair. Bill stared down at his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the rain falling on their house. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the wind blowing around their house. Bill picked up his diary off the arm of the chair. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. Bill listened to the rain. And Bill stared down at the dates. Bill listened to the wind. And Bill stared down at the fixtures. The rain and the wind. On Saturday 6 October, 1967, Ian Ure of Arsenal Football Club had brought down Denis Law of Manchester United. Denis Law had taken a swing at Ian Ure. Denis Law had been sent off. The newspapers had predicted that Denis Law would be suspended for six months. Denis Law had been suspended for six weeks. Denis Law would miss nine games. Bill knew Manchester United would miss Denis Law. Bill closed his diary. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. In the front room, in his chair, Bill listened to the rain falling on their house. Bill listened to the wind blowing around their house. The rain falling on all the houses, the wind blowing around all the houses. And Bill smiled again.

…

In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Bill unfolded the piece of paper. And Bill said, Listen to this, boys. Just listen to this: Stepney, Dunne, Burns, Crerand, Foulkes, Sadler, Fitzpatrick, Kidd, Charlton, Best and Aston. That’s Manchester United today, boys. That’s their team today. No Denis Law, boys. And no Norbert Stiles. Now I know you’d beat Manchester United even if Law and Stiles were playing, boys. I know you would. So I have no doubts at all, boys. No doubts at all that you will murder this Manchester United team today. Absolutely bloody murder them. Worse than you did to the Germans on Tuesday. I know that, boys. I know that. Because this is their reserve team, boys. A second-string side. And I know Matt will be nervous, boys. I know Matt will be shitting bricks. Bringing a reserve team to Anfield, boys. Fielding a second-string side against Liverpool Football Club.

On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched George Best dodge every challenge, George Best elude every tackle. Bill watched George Best spin threads, George Best weave webs. With artistry and with craft, with bravery and with strength. Bill watched Best dance, Bill watched Best sing. And score and score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched Liverpool Football Club slip and slip again. Liverpool Football Club no longer first in the First Division. Manchester United first in the First Division. Again. Liverpool Football Club second. Again. Second best. Again.

In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill said, That boy Best is turning into some player, lads. Into some player. But this is just one game in a long season, lads. A very long season. And we will play them again, lads. We will play them again on April the sixth. And so remember that date, boys. Remember that date. Because on April the sixth we will go there, boys. We will go to Old Trafford and we will beat them. And if I’m not mistaken, boys. If I am not wrong. That will be the game, boys. That will be the match that decides the Championship, boys. That decides who will be first and who will be second. So remember that date, boys –

Remember that date.

…

On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop. Liverpool Football Club had come to the City of Football again. Liverpool Football Club had come to the Népstadion again. But Liverpool Football Club had not played Honvéd Football Club. Liverpool Football Club had played Ferencvárosi Torna Club in the first leg of the Third Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten AS Roma, Athletic Bilbao, Manchester United and Juventus. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had won the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1966, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had reached the quarter-finals of the European Cup. In 1967, Flórián Albert of Ferencvárosi Torna Club had been named as the European Footballer of the Year. Nine players of the Hungarian national team played for Ferencvárosi Torna Club. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a very good side. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a great team. And Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten Liverpool Football Club one — nil at the Népstadion. In a game that had been brought forward to one o’clock in the afternoon because snow was falling. Falling and falling. Heavier and heavier. And still falling, still falling. Heavier, still heavier. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill was not thinking about the game. Bill was thinking about the snow. And Bill was thinking about Matt again. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the snow from the runway. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the ice from the wings of the plane. And Bill thought about Tommy Curry. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines start again. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop again. And Bill thought about the twenty-three people who had died that day in Munich. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill heard the ground crew clear the snow from the runway again. Bill heard the ground crew clear the ice from the wings of the plane again. And Bill could not stop thinking about that day in February, 1958. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start for a third time. And Bill thought about Ness. Bill felt the plane begin to move. Bill thought about the girls. Bill felt the plane begin to pick up speed. Bill closed his eyes. Bill felt the plane shake. Bill gripped the armrest of his seat. Bill felt the plane shudder. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. His eyes closed and his knuckles white. Bill prayed. Bill felt the plane begin to leave the ground. And Bill prayed and Bill prayed, like he had prayed and prayed that day in February, 1958. And Bill felt the plane begin to climb. Like he had never prayed for anything before. To climb and climb. Jesus. Bill hated flying. Above the ice and above the snow. Christ. Bill hated travelling. Bill felt the plane begin to level off. Jesus. Bill hated Europe. Christ. Bill hated abroad. And now Bill felt the plane begin to cruise. But Bill did not relax his grip. Bill did not open his eyes. Not until the plane was on the ground again. Not until his feet were on the ground again. His grip tight, his eyes closed. Until Bill was back in Liverpool. Until Bill was home again.