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The man laughed. The man put down his knife and his fork –

So you think he’ll score on Saturday then, Bill?

Aye. No danger, son. No danger at all.

And you’ll be there, Bill, yeah?

Oh aye. Rain or shine …

The man glanced up through the window of the cafe. The man glanced down at his watch. The man shook his head –

Well, I suppose I best be getting back, Bill. Back to work …

Bill stood up. Bill picked up his umbrella. Bill handed the man his umbrella. And Bill said, Take this with you then, son.

Oh no, said the man. I can’t do that, Bill. What about you? What will you do, Bill? You’ll get soaked …

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, Take it, son. Take it. You’ve to go back to your work, son. Your need is greater than mine. I mean, I can stay here till it stops. Or I can dry off when I get home. But you’ve to go back to your work. You’ve your work to do …

Well then, thank you. And I’ll drop it back here tomorrow for you, Bill. I’ll bring it back then …

Bill shook his head. And Bill said, There’s no rush, son. There’s no rush at all. So don’t be going out of your way, son. Don’t you be making a special journey now. Not for me, son. Not for me.

Thanks, said the man. Thanks again, Bill. And I’ll see you soon, I hope. So you take care now, Bill. You take care.

Bill nodded. Bill smiled. And Bill said, And don’t you work too hard now either, son. You look after yourself …

And Bill sat back down at the table in the window of the cafe on the Eaton Road in West Derby, Liverpool. In his suit and in his tie. Bill looked back down at his newspaper on the table. Bill picked up the paper again. Bill turned to the back pages of the paper. Bill heard the door of the cafe open. Bill looked up from his paper. And Bill saw a man he knew. A man who sometimes came into the cafe for his lunch. A man who always had a good chat with Bill. And Bill put down his paper. And Bill said, Hello, son. How are you, son? You look soaked through, son. Sit yourself down, son. And get some hot food inside you, son. A nice cup of tea down you, son …

73. AT THE TOP OF MY VOICE

Liverpool Football Club had beaten West Ham United two — nil. At home, at Anfield. Dalglish had scored in the thirty-seventh minute. And Fairclough had scored in the eighty-second minute. In the press box. The Anfield press box. With their pens and with their notebooks. The gentlemen of the press were scribbling away. The national press and the local press. The London press and the Liverpool press. The gentlemen of the press stopped their scribbling. The gentlemen of the press put away their pens. They put away their notebooks. And the gentlemen of the press walked out of the press box. They walked out into the corridor. The Anfield corridor –

Here they come, said Bill Shankly. Bill Shankly in the corridor outside the press box. Outside the Anfield press box. Bill Shankly standing there in the corridor, Bill Shankly waiting there in the corridor. In the Anfield corridor –

Here they are. Norman Fox of the London Times. Journalist extraordinaire. What a writer he is. Bob Greaves of Granada Television. Broadcaster supreme. What a presenter he is. Great professionals, true professionals. Always working, always digging. Looking for angles, looking for stories. Never off the clock. Here they all are. Looking for me, no doubt. To get my thoughts, to pick my brains. So come on then, boys. Here I am, here I am. You’ve found me, you’ve found me. So what do you want to know, boys?

Outside the press box. The Anfield press box. In the corridor. The Anfield corridor. The gentlemen of the press smiled. And the gentlemen of the press asked Bill Shankly who he thought should be the next manager of England. Did Bill think it should be Ron Greenwood? Did Bill think it should be Lawrie McMenemy? Did Bill think it should be Brian Clough? Did Bill think Brian Clough was even seriously interested in the job?

Oh well, said Bill Shankly. Brian and me, we often chat. We often talk. And so I know Brian well. And so I know Brian would not be going down to London if he did not fancy the job. If he was not interested in the job …

The gentlemen of the press nodded. And the gentlemen of the press asked, But do you think Brian Clough could do the job, Bill? Do you think he would do a good job as manager of England?

Oh, I have no doubt at all, said Bill Shankly. No doubt at all. Brian loves the game. Brian is passionate about the game. And his love for the game. His passion for the game. These are the things that have made him successful. And I believe he is the people’s choice, too. Because he is a man of the people. A man like me …

Outside the press box. The Anfield press box. In the corridor. The Anfield corridor. The gentlemen of the press nodded. The gentlemen of the press smiled. The local press and the national press. The Liverpool press and the London press. But now the gentlemen of the London press looked at their watches. And now the gentlemen of the London press began to edge away. Away to pick up their phones, away to file their reports. But outside the press box. The Anfield press box. In the corridor. The Anfield corridor. The gentlemen of the Liverpool press did not look at their watches. The gentlemen of the Liverpool press did not begin to edge away. Outside the press box. The Anfield press box. In the corridor. The Anfield corridor. The gentlemen of the Liverpool press asked Bill Shankly about the game. Did Bill think it had been a good match? Did Bill think Liverpool had turned the corner now? After two wins in succession …

Oh well, said Bill Shankly again. It’s difficult to say. Very difficult to say. I mean, it was good to see Thompson back. Very good to see him back. But he’ll need to re-establish himself. Rebuild his rapport with Emlyn Hughes. Thompson will need to do that. Because West Ham almost caught them out. They almost found them out. I mean, I think they were a little unlucky. West Ham United. I mean, to be a goal down at half-time, I thought they were unlucky. Very unlucky. I mean, Brooking and Curbishley were very quick. Those two were very sharp. And they passed the ball beautifully. Beautiful, neat passing. But their marksmen let them down. And I mean, losing Taylor didn’t help their cause. That was a blow for West Ham. A big blow. And I don’t think they ever really recovered. And I think if he had not gone off. If Taylor had not had to go off. Then I think it might have been a different game, a very different story, boys.