David Peace - Red or Dead

The new season same as the old season.

…

In the house, in their bed. Bill heard Ness cough. In her sleep, in their bed. Bill opened his eyes. And Bill saw the darkness. Bill got out of the bed. Bill went down the stairs. Bill went into the front room. Bill switched on the light. Bill sat down in his armchair. Bill picked up his book. His book of names, his book of notes. And Bill turned the pages. The pages of names, the pages of notes. To the last page of names, to the last page of notes. And Bill picked up his pen. His red pen. And Bill drew a line through one name on the page. The last page. Graham . And then Bill wrote a name on the page. The last page. Hateley . And Bill put down his pen. His red pen. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. In the front room, in his armchair. Bill heard Ness cough again upstairs. In their bed, in her sleep. And in the darkness. Bill waited for the dawn,

Bill waited for the light.

…

On the bench, the bench at Elland Road. In the sunshine, the late and rare Yorkshire sunshine. Bill watched Jackie Charlton and Ronnie Yeats cast long shadows, Mick Jones and Tony Hateley cast long shadows. And on the bench, the bench at Elland Road. In the thirtieth minute, Bill watched Billy Bremner strike a long, steepling pass towards the silhouettes of Mick Jones and Ronnie Yeats. And Ronnie Yeats came to meet the pass, to block the pass. Yeats kicking out towards the pass, towards the ball. But Yeats kicked out into the air, into the shadows. And Jones met the pass, Jones touched on the pass. Past Tommy Lawrence. Lawrence groping after the ball, Lawrence sprawling on the floor. And Jones touched the pass again. Jones struck the pass. And Jones scored. And in the sunshine, the late and rare Yorkshire sunshine. Leeds United were beating Liverpool Football Club one — nil. But in the sunshine, the late and rare Yorkshire sunshine, still Liverpool Football Club passed the ball long towards Hateley. Still Liverpool Football Club passed the ball high to Hateley. But Charlton met every ball, Charlton blocked every pass. And in the sunshine, the late and rare sunshine, Jackie Charlton put Tony Hateley’s head on the block. And in the sunshine, the late and rare Yorkshire sunshine. Liverpool Football Club lost one — nil to Leeds United. And that evening, Leeds United had eleven points and Arsenal Football Club had twelve points. Arsenal Football Club were first in the First Division. That evening, Liverpool Football Club had eight points. Liverpool Football Club seventh in the First Division. That evening, Liverpool Football Club were nowhere.

…

In the house, in their bed. Bill heard Ness cough. Again. In her sleep, in their bed. And Bill opened his eyes. Again. Bill saw the darkness. Again. Bill got out of the bed. Again. Bill went down the stairs. Again. Bill went into the front room. Again. Bill switched on the light. Again. Bill sat down in his armchair. Again. Bill picked up his book. His book of names, his book of notes. And again. Bill turned the pages. The pages of names, the pages of notes. To the last page of names, to the last page of notes. Again. Bill picked up his pen. His red pen. Again Bill drew a line through one name on the page. The last page. Hateley . Again. Bill put down his pen. His red pen. And in the front room, in his chair. Bill closed his eyes. Again. In his armchair, in his mind. Bill saw the goals. Again. The twenty-seven goals Hateley had scored last season. The goal he had scored this season. And again. In the front room, in the chair. Bill opened his eyes. Again. Bill picked up his pen. Again. His red pen. And again. Bill wrote a name on the page. Again. The name on the page. Hateley . Bill put down his pen. Again. His red pen. Again. Bill closed his eyes. Again. In the armchair, in his mind. Bill saw the long passes. The high balls. The passes never met. Again. The balls never controlled. And again. Bill opened his eyes. Again. Bill picked up his pen. Again. His red pen. And again. Bill drew a line through that name on that page again. Again. That last name on that last page. Hateley . Again and again. Bill drew line after line. Red line after red line. Through that name on that page. That last name and that last page. Again and again. Until the name was gone, until the page was gone. And then Bill put down his pen. His red pen. And Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. And in the front room, in his armchair. Again. Bill heard Ness cough upstairs. Again. In their bed, in her sleep. And again. In the darkness. Bill waited for the dawn. Again. Bill waited for the light.

…

On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the second minute, Bill watched Ron Yeats score. In the fourth minute, Bill watched Tommy Smith score a penalty. And then in the tenth minute, Bill watched Alun Evans score his first goal for Liverpool Football Club. On his debut, his Anfield debut. Liverpool Football Club had sold Tony Hateley to Coventry City for eighty thousand pounds. And Liverpool Football Club had bought Alun Evans from Wolverhampton Wanderers for one hundred thousand pounds. Alun Evans was nineteen years old. No football club had ever paid one hundred thousand pounds for a teenager. It was a British transfer record for a teenager. Liverpool Football Club had never paid one hundred thousand pounds for anyone. It was a club record. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. Two minutes later, Bill watched Ian Callaghan score. And Liverpool Football Club beat Leicester City four — nil. At home, at Anfield. And on the touchline, the Anfield touchline. Bill shook the hand of Matt Gillies, the manager of Leicester City –

After those first fifteen minutes, said Matt Gillies, I thought you were going to put us to the sword, Bill. I was sure you would score six or seven. Even ten or eleven. I thought you were going to humiliate us, Bill. Humiliate me …

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, Don’t say that, Matt. Please don’t say that. I would never try to humiliate any man, Matt. Especially not you …

On the bench, the bench at Molineux, Wolverhampton. In the early autumn sunshine, Bill watched the red of Liverpool Football Club and the gold of Wolverhampton Wanderers burn and glow on the green, green grass. And in the fifteenth minute, Bill watched the long, gentle parabola of Roger Hunt’s shot ricochet off the foot of Parkin. And Hunt score. And in the twenty-fifth minute, Bill watched Peter Thompson sidestep his man. And Thompson shoot. And the ball flash in off the post. And in the thirtieth minute, Bill watched a pass from Hunt send Alun Evans clear. And Evans shoot. And Evans score against his old club. And in the sixty-third minute, Bill watched a flick from Hunt find the head of Evans. And Evans dive. And Evans score again. And in the seventy-fourth minute, Bill watched Ian Callaghan cross to Hunt. And Hunt score again. And in the eightieth minute, Bill watched Evans pass to Thompson. And Thompson shoot. And Thompson score again. And in the early autumn sunshine, the red of Liverpool Football Club beat the gold of Wolverhampton Wanderers six — nil. Away from home, away from Anfield. And on the touchline, the touchline at Molineux. Bill shook the hand of Ronnie Allen, the manager of Wolverhampton Wanderers –

I knew we should never have sold Alun Evans, said Ronnie Allen. Especially not to you, Bill. Especially not to Liverpool Football Club. That was the most crushing performance I have ever seen by an away team at Molineux, Bill. That anyone has ever seen. We were annihilated, Bill. We were humiliated …

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, Thank you, Ronnie. Thank you very much. But please don’t say you were humiliated, Ronnie. Please never say that. Yes, we were the better team today, Ronnie. But we never lost respect for you. We never tried to humiliate you, Ronnie. We simply wanted to win.