by David Peace
On Good Friday, 1964, Liverpool Football Club travelled to White Hart Lane, London. That Good Friday, the gates at White Hart Lane were closed an hour before kick-off. That Friday, fifty-six thousand, nine hundred and fifty-two folk came to White Hart Lane, London. And on Good Friday, 1964, just before the half-hour, Liverpool Football Club broke out of defence. Quickly. The long pass to Arrowsmith. Quickly. The square flick to Hunt and an error by Henry. And quickly, Hunt scored. That Good Friday, just after the hour, Byrne passed to Arrowsmith. Quickly. Arrowsmith passed to Thompson. Quickly. The flick to St John, the chip over the defence. And again, there was Hunt. And again quickly, Hunt scored. That Friday, three minutes later, the deep centre into the box from Callaghan. Quickly. And again, there was Hunt. And again quickly, Hunt scored. His third, his hat-trick. And on Good Friday, 1964, Liverpool Football Club beat Tottenham Hotspur three–one. Away from home, away from Anfield.
…
That evening, that Good Friday evening. At their hotel, in the dining room. Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett were still sitting around their table. The players of Liverpool Football Club had already gone up to their rooms. Up to their beds. Tomorrow, Liverpool Football Club would travel to Filbert Street, Leicester. Tomorrow, Liverpool Football Club would play Leicester City. Away from home, away from Anfield. Now the dining room was deserted, now the dining room silent. The waiters began to clear the tables, to take away the plates. The spoons, the knives and the forks –
Stop, shouted Bill Shankly. Please wait! Please leave the knives and the forks. And the spoons …
And the waiters left the knives, the forks and the spoons on the white tablecloth. In piles.
In the dining room, at their table. Bill Shankly stood up. Bill Shankly reached across the table. And Bill Shankly picked up three dirty spoons, four dirty forks and four dirty knives. Bill Shankly arranged the three dirty spoons, the four dirty forks and the four dirty knives on the white tablecloth. And Bill Shankly stared down at the three spoons, the four forks and the four knives on the tablecloth –
This will be them, said Bill Shankly. This will be Leicester City. They are not the team they once were. They have had injuries, they still have injuries. But the system will be the same. Banks, Norman, Appleton dropping back, McLintock, King, Cross, Hodgson, Sweenie, Roberts, Gibson and Stringfellow. That will be Leicester City tomorrow. That’s what we all think? Yes?
Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett stared down at the three spoons, the four forks and the four knives. And Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett nodded.
Right, said Bill Shankly. And Bill Shankly walked over to another table. A table already set for breakfast. Bill Shankly picked up three clean spoons, three clean forks and five clean knives. Bill Shankly walked back over to their table. Bill Shankly arranged the three clean spoons, the three clean forks and the five clean knives on the white tablecloth –
And then this will be us, said Bill Shankly. This will be Liverpool Football Club. We have had our injuries, too. We still have our injuries. Still no Big Ron. But this will be our system tomorrow, our team for tomorrow. Tommy Lawrence. Gerry. Ronnie Moran. Milne. Young Lawler. Billy Stevenson. Callaghan. Hunt. St John. Arrowsmith. And Peter Thompson. That will be us, our team? Yes?
Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett stared down at the three clean spoons, the three clean forks and the five clean knives. And Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett nodded again.
Bill Shankly pointed to the five clean knives –
Callaghan, Hunt, St John, Arrowsmith and Thompson. Those are our knives. Five knives …
Now Bill Shankly picked up one of the five clean knives. And Bill Shankly waved the knife at Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett. And pointed it –
This looks like a knife, said Bill Shankly. But it’s not a knife! It’s a fork. A fork called Ian St John. St John will wear the number-nine shirt. He will be listed as a forward. As a knife. But St John will be a fork. A secret fork. Because he will drop back. And so then St John will be a fork and a key. He will be the key for us! Ian St John will be the key that unlocks Leicester City Football Club!
Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett stared at the knife in Bill Shankly’s hand. The knife pointing at them. And Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Reuben Bennett nodded. They nodded and they smiled, they smiled and they laughed.
…
On Easter Saturday, 1964, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Filbert Street, Leicester. In the rain and in the mud. On Easter Saturday, 1964, St John had the speed, St John had the stamina. In the mud and in the rain. St John had the strength and St John had the skill. In the rain and in the mud. St John juggled the ball from chest to thigh, St John juggled the ball from thigh to instep. In the mud and in the rain. Like it was cotton wool, the ball was cotton wool. In the rain and in the mud. One minute St John was Doctor Jekyll, the next St John was Mister Hyde. In the mud and in the rain. St John linked defence to attack. From the middle of the pitch, from the heart of the game. St John turned defence into attack. In the rain and in the mud. In the seventeenth minute, St John passed the ball out to Thompson. Down the left, past four men. Thompson crossed the ball to Hunt. On the edge of the penalty area, from the edge of the penalty area. Hunt shot. A shot that nicked Norman, that grazed the outstretched fingers of Banks, that squeezed inside the post and into the goal. In the mud and in the rain. In the eighty-fifth minute, St John passed to Arrowsmith. A perfect pass, through a pinhead. And Arrowsmith scored. In the rain and in the mud. Ian St John had unlocked Leicester City. In the mud and in the rain. Liverpool Football Club had beaten Leicester City two–nil. In the rain and in the mud –
At last, at last.
…
On Easter Sunday, 1964, in his office. The camp bed sitting in the corner. The bags of mail standing on the floor. The bags and bags of mail. The stacks of letters on his desk. The stacks and stacks of letters. In his office, at his desk. Jimmy McInnes heard the footsteps in the corridor outside. The fast steps, the heavy steps. And Jimmy McInnes looked up from the stacks of letters on his desk. The stacks and stacks of letters. And Jimmy McInnes saw Bill Shankly standing in the doorway. Bill Shankly smiling, Bill Shankly grinning –
Happy Easter, said Bill Shankly. Happy Easter to you, Jimmy!
Jimmy McInnes blinked, Jimmy McInnes smiled. And Jimmy McInnes said, Thank you, Bill. Thank you. And two great results, Bill. Well done. Congratulations, Bill …
Oh, I wish you could have been there, said Bill Shankly. I really wish you could have been there, Jimmy. At Tottenham and at Leicester. The boys were magnificent, Jimmy. Every single one of them. I could not have asked for more, Jimmy. Not from any one of them. They were all superb, Jimmy. Absolutely superb!
Jimmy McInnes smiled again. And Jimmy McInnes said, That’s what I heard, Bill. That’s what people tell me. And it bodes well for tomorrow, Bill. Very well for tomorrow …
Aye, said Bill Shankly. Tomorrow will be another good day. I can feel it, Jimmy. I can feel it. I am not worried, Jimmy. Not worried at all. I am excited, Jimmy. I’m excited for tomorrow. There’ll be a full house, Jimmy. And on Saturday for United. Two full houses …
Jimmy McInnes looked down at the letters on his desk. The stacks and stacks of letters. The bags of mail standing on the floor. The bags and bags of mail. And Jimmy McInnes said, You’re right there, Bill. You’re right. We’ll have to turn away thousands, I reckon. I’ve already been onto the police. Asking for more police. For tomorrow and for Saturday. The demand is simply enormous, Bill. The demand for tickets. It’s unbelievable, Bill. To be honest with you, it’s hard for me to keep up. To keep up with the demand for tickets, Bill …
But that’s the way it should be, said Bill Shankly. That’s the way I’ve always wanted it to be, Jimmy. The way I’ve always dreamt it would be. The way it deserves to be, Jimmy. For this club, for Liverpool Football Club. The way it has to be, Jimmy. So this is the way it should be. And the way it should always
be, Jimmy. Always …
Jimmy McInnes pointed to one of the bags of mail. One of the bags of mail standing by the door. And Jimmy McInnes said, Well, that bag over there is for you, Bill. That bag is all fan mail for you …
That’s unbelievable, said Bill Shankly. That’s fantastic, Jimmy. And I’ll answer them all. I promise you that, Jimmy. I promise you that. I’ll answer them all, Jimmy. Every single one of them …
Jimmy McInnes nodded. Jimmy McInnes smiled. And Jimmy McInnes said, I know you will, Bill. I know you will.
But what about all the other bags, asked Bill Shankly. Who are all the other bags for, Jimmy? Are they for the players then?
Jimmy McInnes said, No. They are all for me, Bill. All for me.
You see, laughed Bill Shankly. You’re still the most popular man at Anfield, Jimmy. You are still the most popular man at Liverpool Football Club. Without a doubt, Jimmy. Without a doubt!
Jimmy McInnes shook his head. And Jimmy McInnes said, No, Bill. I’m not. I wish I was, Bill. I really do. But I’m not, Bill. I’m the most unpopular man at Liverpool Football Club …
Nonsense, said Bill Shankly. Nonsense, Jimmy. I know you try to make as many people happy as you can. I know you do, Jimmy.
Jimmy McInnes nodded again. Jimmy McInnes smiled again. And Jimmy McInnes said, Well, I try, Bill. I really do try.
And that’s all I ask, said Bill Shankly. All I ever ask from anyone, Jimmy. That we try, try to make the people happy …
Jimmy McInnes nodded, Jimmy McInnes smiled. And Jimmy McInnes looked back down at the letters on his desk. The stacks and stacks of letters on his desk. And in his office, at his desk. Jimmy McInnes heard the footsteps in the corridor outside again. The fast steps and the heavy steps, walking away.
…
After his lunch, his Easter lunch. In his house, in his lounge. Ron Yeats heard the telephone ringing. Ringing and ringing. Ron Yeats stood up. Ron Yeats walked over to the telephone. Ron Yeats picked up the phone. And Ron Yeats said, Hello? Hello …
It’s me, Ron. It’s me. The Easter Bunny, son. Now how are you? How are you feeling today, Ron? Are you feeling better now?
Yes, Boss. Thank you. I’m feeling fine –
That’s great news, Ron. The very best news! But I hope you’re not stuffing yourself full of Easter eggs now, son?
No, Boss. No. I would never –
That’s great news, Ron. Great news! So you’re fit enough to play tomorrow then, son? You’re ready to play tomorrow, are you?
Yes, Boss. Of course I am. I’m desperate to play …
Oh, that’s music to my ears, Ron. To hear you say that. Because I was worried, son. I was worried that if you weren’t fit enough to play tomorrow, then you might never get back in the side, Ron. The way they are playing. I was very worried you might not get back in the team, son. If you were still not fit enough …
But I am fit enough, Boss! I know I am. I’m ready, Boss. And I’m desperate, Boss. I’m desperate to play …
Well, you know me, Ron. You know me. I make no promises, son. No promises I cannot keep. But if you get yourself down here tomorrow, Ron. Bright and early. Then we’ll have a see, shall we, son? We’ll have a see if you’re fit enough to play. If you can play …
Thank you, Boss. Thank you very much.
But mind you stay off that chocolate now, Ron. Mind you stay away from those Easter eggs. Because they are a poison, son. To a man like you. Nothing but a poison to a man like you, Ron.
…
On Easter Monday, 1964, Tottenham Hotspur came to Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. That afternoon, fifty-two thousand, nine hundred and four folk came, too. Fifty-two thousand, nine hundred and four folk locked inside Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VERPOOL, LI-VER-POOL. Ten thousand folk more locked outside Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Surging and shoving, shoving and surging. Outside Anfield, inside Anfield, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. In the thirty-sixth minute, Ian St John took a pass from Ronnie Moran. And St John scored for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Two minutes later, Gerry Byrne passed to Alf Arrowsmith. Arrowsmith flicked on to St John, St John coming from deep. And St John shot low and St John scored again for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. But then Brown lobbed in a ball. Yeats headed out the ball. But Mullery volleyed the ball back. And Mullery scored. But in the fifty-third minute, Ian Callaghan left Henry spinning. Callaghan found Peter Thompson in the centre. Thompson shot. Arrowsmith stuck out a foot, Arrowsmith diverted the shot. Into the goal for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, Liverpool Football Club had beaten Tottenham Hotspur three–one. At home, at Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And that evening, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, Liverpool Football Club had fifty points. Everton Football Club had forty-nine points. And Manchester United had forty-seven points. That evening, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, Liverpool Football Club were first in the First Division. For now. There were still six more games to go, still six more games to play –
On Saturday 4 April, 1964, Manchester United came to Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Fifty-two thousand, five hundred and fifty-nine folk came, too. Fifty-two thousand, five hundred and fifty-nine folk locked inside Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VERPOOL, LI-VER-POOL. In the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. Again, ten thousand folk more were locked outside Anfield, Liverpool, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Surging and shoving, shoving and surging. Again. Outside Anfield, inside Anfield, LI-VERPOOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And in the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. From the first whistle of the game, from the first second of the match, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LIVER- POOL attacked. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL sought an early paralysing blow. In the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. In the fifth minute, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL won a corner. Peter Thompson took it. Ron Yeats rose for it. Gregg let the ball slip. Roger Hunt back-heeled it. And Ian Callaghan cracked it into the back of the net for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And again in the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL attacked. Again LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL came. And Gregg saved. From Ian St John. From Hunt. From Alf Arrowsmith. Again and again and again LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER- POOL, LI-VER-POOL never let up, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL never relented. In the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. In the thirty-ninth minute, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER- POOL, LI-VER-POOL made United bow down again. With Gregg stranded, Callaghan shot. Law blocked the shot on his own goal line. The ball flew back to Callaghan. But Callaghan did not shoot, Callaghan crossed to Arrowsmith. And Arrowsmith headed the ball into the goal for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. But in the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. Still LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL attacked and attacked and attacked. In the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. In the second half, St John hit the post for LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. Gregg saved point-blank from Hunt of LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And then in the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine. In the fifty-second minute, Gordon Milne passed to St John. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. St John passed to Hunt. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LIVER-POOL. Hunt to Arrowsmith. LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And Arrowsmith put the ball in the net again. In the net again, in the sunshine. In the bright and brilliant sunshine, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL beat Manchester United three–nil. At home, at Anfield, LI-VER-POOL,
LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL –
After the whistle, the final whistle. Matt Busby walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. And Matt Busby shook Bill Shankly’s hand. Matt Busby squeezed Bill Shankly’s hand. And Matt Busby looked up at the Kop. The Spion Kop. Still swaying and still surging, still surging and still singing LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL, LI-VER-POOL. And Matt Busby said, You are worse than that lot, Bill. With all your enthusiasm and with all your excitement, Bill …
Don’t say that, said Bill Shankl
y. Please don’t say that, Matt. I’m not worse than them. I’m the same as them, Matt. The same …
Matt Busby smiled, Matt Busby touched his ear. And Matt Busby said, You’re right, Bill, You are right. But do you hear that, Bill? Do you hear that? They have recognised a kindred spirit, Bill. They have recognised you as one of their own. You as one of them, Bill …
Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly …
Bill Shankly smiled at Matt Busby. And then Bill Shankly turned to face the Kop. The Spion Kop. Bill Shankly raised his hands above his head. And Bill Shankly saluted the Kop. The Spion Kop –
Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly …
Matt Busby smiled again. And Matt Busby said, They have taken you to their hearts, Bill. To their very hearts.
Shankly! Shankly! Shankly! Shankly …
Aye, said Bill Shankly. They have, Matt. And I have taken them to mine. To my own heart, too …
Shankly! Shankly! Shankly …
But now they’ll never let you go, Bill. You know that? Now they’ll never let you leave, Bill. I hope you know that?
Shankly! Shankly …
Aye, Matt. I do know that. But I would never leave them, Matt. I would never go. Not now, Matt. Not now. Because I could never leave them, Matt. I could never let them go …
SHANK-LEE!
…
On Tuesday 14 April, 1964, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Turf Moor, Burnley. And that evening, the Spion Kop travelled to Turf Moor, too. Thousands and thousands of them, twenty thousand of them. A Red Convoy. On buses, on trains. A Red Line. In cars, on foot. A Red Army. On the march, the march to victory. In the twentieth minute, Alf Arrowsmith scored. In the fifty-second minute, Ian St John scored. And in the fifty-ninth minute, Arrowsmith scored again. And Liverpool Football Club beat Burnley Football Club three–nil. Away from home, away from Anfield. That night, Liverpool Football Club were still first in the First Division. Liverpool Football Club now had fifty-four points. Liverpool Football Club now needed only one more point. Only one more point from their last four games. Only one more point to be Champions. The Champions of England –