No, said Bob. You’ve got the wrong time, Boss. It’s half past eleven in England. But it’s only half past six here.
Bill shook his head. And Bill said, You’re wrong, Bob. You’re mistaken. No American is going to tell me what time it is. I know what time it is, Bob. It’s half past eleven. And so it’s time for bed, Bob. So you sleep well now, too. And I’ll see you in the morning, Bob …
…
In the hotel, in the corridor. In his blazer, his Liverpool Football Club blazer. With a sheet of paper in one hand. A sheet of names, a sheet of numbers. Bill knocked on Bob’s door. And Bill waited. And Bill waited. And then Bill knocked again. And Bill waited. And then the door opened. And Bill saw Bob. Bob still rubbing his eyes, Bob still wearing his pyjamas. And Bill said, What’s wrong with you, Bob? Are you ill? Are you sick, man? Are you not well?
No, said Bob. I’m fine, Boss. I was asleep.
Asleep? Jesus Christ, Bob. It’s eight o’clock in the morning. It’s breakfast time, Bob. It’s time to go through the team. The team for the game, Bob. The game today …
Just a minute then, smiled Bob. Just a minute, Boss.
…
On the pitch at Soldier Field, Chicago. Bill was not watching the players of Liverpool Football Club practise for their friendly. Bill was looking up at the stadium. At the Roman columns. Now Bill turned to the groundsman. And Bill said, This is a famous place. A very famous place. I’ve heard of this place. This is the very place where Jack Dempsey fought Gene Tunney in 1927, is it not?
Yes, said the groundsman. This is the place. There were over one hundred thousand people here that night. Gloria Swanson was here, Al Capone was here. There were the Astors and the Vanderbilts. There were politicians and there was even royalty …
Bill nodded. And Bill said, I know, I know that. I listened to it on the radio. And I remember every round. Every jab and every feint. Every punch and every blow. But where exactly was the ring then?
It must have been over there, said the groundsman, pointing to the centre of the pitch where the players of Liverpool Football Club were practising. That’s where the ring would have been that night.
Bill said, Are you certain? I don’t want any guesses now.
Yes, said the groundsman. I am certain. In that centre circle.
Bill nodded. Bill turned around. Bill looked for Bob. Bill saw Bob. And Bill shouted, Bob! Bob! Come over here with me. Follow me, over here. And bring a ball, Bob. Bring a ball over here …
Bill took off his coat. Bill took off his jacket. Bill made a goal with his coat and with his jacket. And Bill said, Come on, Bob. Come on! To me, to me. Pass the ball to me, Bob …
Bob passed the ball to Bill. Bill took the ball. Bill passed it back to Bob. Bob took the ball. Bob passed it back to Bill. Bill turned. And Bill shot. And Bill scored. Between his coat, between his jacket. Bill scored a goal. On Soldier Field, Chicago. In the place where Jack Dempsey fought Gene Tunney. On the site of the Long Count –
Bill looked at his watch. His watch on his left wrist. His Liverpool watch, with Liverpool time. And Bill picked up his jacket, Bill picked up his coat. Bill put on his jacket, Bill put on his coat. And Bill went back to Liverpool. Bill went back home.
…
In the house, in their front room. In the night and in the silence. In his chair. Bill picked up the paper again. The evening paper. Bill turned to the back pages again. The sports pages. Stan Cullis had been sacked as the manager of Wolverhampton Wanderers. In 1949, as manager of Wolverhampton Wanderers, Stan Cullis had won the FA Cup. He had been the youngest manager ever to win the FA Cup. He had been just thirty-two years old. In 1954, Wolverhampton Wanderers had won the First Division Championship. They had won it again in 1958 and they had retained it in 1959. The next year, Wolverhampton Wanderers had won the FA Cup again. That year, they had also been runners-up in the First Division, losing to Burnley Football Club by just one point. Just one point. Two points and they would have won the Double. The first Double since Aston Villa in 1897. Stan Cullis had won three Championships and two FA Cups. Yesterday, the directors of Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club had sacked Stan Cullis. In the night and in the silence. In his chair. Bill turned to the inside back page of the paper. The page of results, the page of tables. And Bill looked down at the First Division table. Bill looked down the First Division table for the Champions of England. A long, long way down. On Saturday 12 September, 1964, the Champions of England were seventeenth in the First Division. Seventeenth. This season, this new season, the Champions of England had played seven games. They had won two and they had drawn one. And they had lost four games. At Blackburn Rovers and at Leeds, at Sheffield Wednesday and at Leicester. Again. In the night and in the silence. In his chair. Bill let the pages of the paper fall to the floor. And Bill picked up his diary from the arm of his chair. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. Bill opened the diary to the next date and Bill stared down at the next fixture. On Saturday 19 September, 1964, Liverpool Football Club would play Everton. At home,
at Anfield.
…
After the whistles, all of the whistles. Along the corridor, into the dressing room. Bill slammed the door, Bill locked the door. Bill turned to face the players of Liverpool Football Club. The tops of their heads, the fall of their shoulders. Their necks and their backs. And Bill said, Look up. Look up at me! Into my face and into my eyes. Look up at me now. You parcel of rogues! You pack of scoundrels! You’re a disgrace. Every single one of you. A disgrace and a menace. A disgrace to this club and a menace to our supporters. Stealing their money and killing their dreams. A parcel of thieves, a pack of murderers. That’s what you are. Thieves and murderers. And you should be in prison. Every one of you, every single one of you. In prison. That’s where you belong. Because I saw men crying today. Grown men crying on the Kop, crying today because of you. And I cannot blame them, I do not blame them. Spending their money, their hard-earned money. To watch you, watching you play like that. Losing like that, four — nil. Four — nil at home, at home to Everton. Everton of all teams. Everton! I’d be crying, too. If I wasn’t so angry, if I wasn’t so furious. I tell you, if you ever play for Liverpool Football Club again, the next game you play, you better win five — nil. Five — nil! And the next time they come here, the next time Everton Football Club come here, here to Anfield, you better beat them five — nil, too. Five — nil! Or you will never play for Liverpool Football Club again. I tell you that now. Not one of you. Never again. If you ever play like that again. Now get out, get out! Every one of you, every single one of you. Because I cannot look at you, I cannot look at you any more. Because I’m ashamed of you. I am ashamed to be your manager. And I never thought, never thought in my worst nightmares, never thought I’d ever feel that, never thought I’d ever say that. So get out, get out now! While there are still some folk about. Folk who supported you, the folk who paid your wages today. Get out there now, walk among them now. And let them tell you what they think of you, what they think of Liverpool Football Club losing four — nil at home, at Anfield, to Everton. Because I tell you, what I’ve said will be nothing compared to what they say. Nothing. So get up, get out! Get up and get out there now. And walk among those people. And listen to those people. Listen to their words and remember their words. And remember those people.
17. A RED GLOW IN THE SKY
On the morning of Sunday 20 September, 1964, Liverpool Football Club were twenty-first in the First Division. The Champions of England second from the bottom of the table. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew this was going to be a long season. The longest season in the history of Liverpool Football Club. A long and tiring season. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew their preparations for this season, this long and tiring season, had not been ideal, had not been what they wanted. The players of Liverpool Football Club had returned from their tour of the United States exhausted. Many of the players of Liverpool Football Club had now won the recognition of their countries. Many of the players of Liverpool Football Club were now in their national teams. Selected and capped. Playing more games, many more games. Training with different managers, listening to different voices. Being distracted, getting exhausted. Exhausted and injured. Injured and finished. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew some players would have to step down, down to the reserves. Players like Alan A’Court and Ronnie Moran. That some players would not want to step down, that some players would want a transfer. Players like Alan A’Court. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew some players would have to step up, up from the reserves. They knew some players would be able to step up, up to the first team. Players like Bobby Graham, Chris Lawler, Tommy Smith and Gordon Wallace. They knew other players would struggle, struggle to step up. Players like Philip Ferns, Alan Hignett, Thomas Lowry, Willie Molyneux and John Sealey. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew they would need still more players, need to bring in still more players. Players like Phil Chisnall. From Manchester United. Players like Geoff Strong. From Arsenal. Under the stands, among the boots. The dirty boots, the hanging boots. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew there would have to be these changes, have to be these experiments. That these changes, that these experiments, would make consistency difficult, would make stability elusive. That there would be ups and there would be downs. Before consistency, before stability. In a long season, the longest season in the history of Liverpool Football Club. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Albert Shelley knew there would be ups and downs. Many more ups