There will always be times when we get beaten, said Bill Shankly. There will always be times when we lose. But the important thing is what we take away from that beating, what we learn when we lose. Because we’ll always learn more from a loss than a win. So remember that and learn that, lads. And I’ll see you all on Monday.
…
On the Monday, in the morning. The players of Liverpool Football Club were running laps around the training pitch at Melwood. All forty of them. And the players of Liverpool Football Club were watching Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Albert Shelley, Arthur Riley, Tom Bush and Eli Wass –
Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Albert Shelley, Arthur Riley, Tom Bush and Eli Wass standing in a line across one end of the training pitch at Melwood. Each with a sack in one hand, each with a trowel in the other. And Bill Shankly smiled –
Right then, said Bill Shankly. Let’s make a start.
And Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Albert Shelley, Arthur Riley, Tom Bush and Eli Wass began to walk across the training pitch. Slowly. Their heads bent forward, their eyes staring down. Down at the ground, down at the pitch. Slowly. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Albert Shelley, Arthur Riley, Tom Bush and Eli Wass picked up every stone they saw. Every bit of brick, every piece of broken glass. Every rock and every pebble. They pulled up every weed they found. Every dandelion and every thistle. They put the stones into their sacks, they put the weeds into their sacks. They used the heels of their boots to tread down the ground. To fill in every divot, to fill in every hole. From one end of the training pitch to the other end. And when they reached the other end, they turned and walked back. Slowly. Picking up the stones they had missed. The bits of brick, the pieces of broken glass. Pulling up the weeds they had missed. The dandelions and the thistles. Treading down the ground. Every divot and every hole. And when they came to the place where they had started, then they turned again. And they began to walk back towards the other end again. Slowly. Picking up the stones, pulling up the weeds.
And the players of Liverpool Football Club kept running their laps of the training pitch. All forty of them. The players of Liverpool Football Club watching the eight men. The eight men picking up the stones, the eight men pulling up the weeds. With their sacks and with their trowels. And the players of Liverpool Football Club glanced at each other. They shook their heads, they rolled their eyes. And the players of Liverpool Football Club slowed their pace.
Reuben Bennett looked up from the ground. From the stones and from the weeds. And Reuben Bennett shouted, Pick up them feet, lads. No slacking now! No bloody slacking, lads!
Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Reuben Bennett, Albert Shelley, Arthur Riley, Tom Bush and Eli Wass reached the other end of the training pitch for the twelfth time. They had eight sacks of stones and weeds. Eight full sacks of stones and weeds –
Right, said Bill Shankly. It’s no bowling green. Not yet. But it’ll do for today. It’s a start. For now.
Reuben Bennett blew his whistle. Reuben Bennett shouted, Last lap, lads. And it’s a race! Go!
And the players of Liverpool Football Club sprinted around the training pitch. All forty of them. And Bob Paisley gathered the fastest twenty on one half of the pitch. And Joe Fagan gathered the slower twenty on the other half. Bill Shankly went into the pavilion. Bill Shankly came back out carrying a big bag of balls. Bill Shankly stood in the centre of the training pitch. And Bill Shankly smiled –
Right then, said Bill Shankly. Enough running around the houses. We’re going to play some football, lads …
The players of Liverpool Football Club rubbed their hands together. The players of Liverpool Football Club smiled.
And Bill Shankly smiled again –
We’re going to play some five-a-sides, said Bill Shankly. Have ourselves a wee little FA Cup, boys …
The players of Liverpool Football Club hopped from foot to foot. The players of Liverpool Football Club grinned.
Bill Shankly grinned, too. Bill Shankly looked at the players gathered around Joe Fagan. The players who had been the slowest twenty around the training pitch. Bill Shankly took off his sweater. Bill Shankly took off his shirt. Bill Shankly took off his vest. And Bill Shankly laughed. And Bill Shankly said, Merry Christmas, lads. It’s shirts versus skins. Merry Christmas, boys!
…
In the afternoon, after their lunch. The directors of Liverpool Football Club were sitting in the boardroom at Anfield. The directors of Liverpool Football Club were waiting for Bill Shankly. The directors of Liverpool Football Club heard the footsteps in the corridor outside. The fast steps, the heavy steps. And then the knock upon the boardroom door. Fast and heavy. And Tom Williams said, Come.
Bill Shankly opened the door. Bill Shankly stepped into the boardroom. Bill Shankly looked around the boardroom. From director to director. And Bill Shankly waited.
Tom Williams said, Sit down.
Bill Shankly sat down at the long table. Bill Shankly looked up the long table at the directors of Liverpool Football Club.
Tom Williams smiled at Bill Shankly. And Tom Williams said, Well then, Mr Shankly. How is it going? How are you getting on?
I have been here a week now, said Bill Shankly. And for that week, I have held my tongue but I have kept my eyes open. And frankly, gentlemen, I do not like what I have seen. There are many things that need changing, many things that need doing. First and foremost, this ground is an embarrassment and an eyesore. It needs cleaning up and it needs renovating. For a start, the pitch needs proper watering equipment. And then there are the toilets. The toilets are a disgrace. Most of them don’t even flush. And so they stink!
The directors of Liverpool Football Club looked at each other. And one director asked, Which toilets are you talking about?
All of them, said Bill Shankly. All of the ones in the stands.
The ones the spectators use?
Yes, said Bill Shankly. The ones in the stands. The ones the people who pay to watch Liverpool Football Club have to use. Those people who pay my wages. Those people, their toilets.
Tom Williams said, Well, we will certainly take your suggestions under consideration. Was there anything else, Mr Shankly?
Aye, said Bill Shankly. There certainly is. There is Melwood. That place is worse than here. It’s not fit for a Sunday kick-about, let alone training sessions for professional footballers. The pitch is a deathtrap. It’s a wonder no one has broken their leg on it. And that pavilion is no better. One big gust of wind and that thing will fall down. And the kits the players wear for training. They are in tatters. They are nothing but rags. A tramp would turn up his nose at them. It’s not good enough for Liverpool Football Club.
Again the directors of Liverpool Football Club looked at each other. And another director asked, So what do you suggest, Shankly?
I suggest you get the players some new training kits, said Bill Shankly. And I suggest you get me some tins of paint. I’m not asking you to bring in the painters and the decorators. Just get the players their kits and get me some paint. And then I’ll do the rest.
Tom Williams said, Well, I think we’d all agree you certainly make a very powerful case, Mr Shankly. And, as I say, we will certainly consider your suggestions. Thank you, Mr Shankly.