Red Or Dead

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by David Peace


  In the winter-time. In the ice and in the snow. Liverpool Football Club drew with FC Cologne in the Second Round of the European Cup. Away. And Liverpool Football Club drew with Leicester City in the Sixth Round of the FA Cup –

  In the winter-time. In the ice and in the snow. On Wednesday 10 March, 1965, Leicester City came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, fifty-three thousand, three hundred and twenty-four folk came, too. Fifty-three thousand, three hundred and twenty-four folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Leicester City in the Sixth Round replay of the FA Cup. For a place in the semi-final, in the semi-final of the FA Cup. The Cup that Liverpool Football Club had never won, the Cup that some folk said was cursed. Jinxed. That some folk said Liverpool Football Club would never win. In the seventy-second minute, Chris Lawler took a free kick. Lawler found Ron Yeats. Yeats found Roger Hunt. And Hunt found the net. And Liverpool Football Club beat Leicester City one–nil. At home, at Anfield. One week after that, FC Cologne came to Anfield, Liverpool. Forty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-two folk came, too. Forty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-two folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play FC Cologne in the second leg of the Second Round of the European Cup. Another cup Liverpool Football Club had never won, a tournament Liverpool Football Club had never played in before. But Liverpool Football Club drew nil–nil with FC Cologne. Again. Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne would have to play another game, another match. On neutral ground, on foreign soil –

  On Wednesday 24 March, 1965, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the Stadion Feyenoord in Rotterdam, Holland. Fifty-odd thousand folk came, too. Fifty-odd thousand mainly German folk. In the twenty-second minute, Ian St John scored. In the thirty-seventh, Roger Hunt scored. But then Thielen scored for FC Cologne. And then Loehr scored for FC Cologne. And after ninety minutes of this match, after two hundred and seventy minutes of this tie, Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne were still drawing. And after extra time, after one hundred and twenty minutes of this match, after three hundred minutes of this tie, Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne were still drawing. Still tied. And so after three hundred minutes, after the final whistle. The captain of Liverpool Football Club walked to the centre of the field, the centre circle. And the captain of FC Cologne walked to the centre of the field, the centre circle. Reporters followed them, photographers followed them. The captains stood in the centre of the field, in the centre circle. The referee took a chip from his pocket. A gambler’s chip. One side red, one side white. The referee asked Ron Yeats which side of the chip he wanted. And Ron Yeats said red. He wanted the red side. The referee said he would now throw the chip in the air. Into the night, into the dark. And then the chip would fall onto the ground, into the mud. If it landed red-side up, Liverpool Football Club would be in the semi-final of the European Cup. If it landed white-side up, FC Cologne would be in the semi-final of the European Cup. In the centre of the field, in the centre circle, the referee flicked the chip into the air. Into the night, into the dark. The lights of the cameras flashed. On their benches, the players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne blinked. In the lights. The players, the officials and the staff followed the chip. Into the night, into the dark. Up and then down. Down onto the ground, down into the mud. The captains stared down at the ground, down at the mud. Down at the chip, the gambler’s chip. In the ground, in the mud. On its side. The chip had landed on its side. The gambler’s chip. Stuck in the mud, on its side. The referee bent down. The referee picked up the chip. The gambler’s chip. The referee wiped the chip. The gambler’s chip. The referee flicked the chip back into the air. Into the night, into the dark. The lights flashed again. Again, on their benches, the players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne blinked. In the lights. Again, the players, the officials and the staff followed the chip. Into the night, into the dark. Up and then down. Down onto the ground, down into the mud. The captains stared down at the ground, down at the mud. And Ron Yeats leapt up. Up into the night, up

  into the lights. In

  red, all in red.

  The players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club ran towards the centre of the field, towards the centre circle, towards Ron Yeats. Ron Yeats –

  his arms raised,

  raised in

  red, all in red. But Bill Shankly did not run to the centre of the pitch, to the centre circle. Bill Shankly got up from the bench. Slowly. Bill Shankly walked down the touchline to the coach of FC Cologne. Bill Shankly shook his head, Bill Shankly stuck out his hand –

  That’s no way to settle a game, said Bill Shankly. No way to win a match. Not on the toss of a coin. Not for your team. I have to be honest, tonight you were the better team, sir.

  …

  Three days after Liverpool Football Club had knocked FC Cologne out of the European Cup on the toss of a coin. Three days after Liverpool Football Club had played one hundred and twenty minutes of football, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Villa Park, Birmingham. That afternoon, sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk came, too. Liverpool folk and London folk. Sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Chelsea Football Club in the semi-final of the FA Cup –

  Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room at Villa Park, Birmingham. Bill Shankly took a brochure from his pocket. A brochure for the FA Cup Final. A brochure printed by Chelsea Football Club. Bill Shankly held up the brochure. The Chelsea Cup Final brochure. Bill Shankly made sure every player, every player of Liverpool Football Club, could see this brochure, this Chelsea Cup Final brochure –

  That mob from London think they have already won this game, said Bill Shankly. Already won this match. That mob think we are drained, that mob think we are exhausted. Already beaten. They think they have won the game, they think they have won the match. That mob think they are already in the final. Already at Wembley. Because that London mob are arrogant, because that London mob are ignorant. But that London mob know nothing. Nothing about Liverpool Football Club! Because we are never drained, we are never exhausted. Not you boys and not our supporters. Never! And so Liverpool Football Club are never beaten. Never beaten!

  On Saturday 27 March, 1965, at Villa Park, Birmingham, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not drained. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not exhausted. They sang and they roared. And out on the pitch, the players of Liverpool Football Club heard their songs, they heard their roars. And the players of Liverpool Football Club were no longer drained, no longer exhausted. Neither mentally nor physically. The players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. The players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. The players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And the players of Chelsea Football Club could only stand and watch. They watched and they waited. They waited for the players of Liverpool Football Club to run themselves into the ground. Into the pitch. To lie prostrate upon the pitch. Drained and exhausted, exhausted and beaten. But still the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For ten minutes. For twenty minutes. For thirty minutes. For forty minutes. For fifty minutes. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And after sixty minutes, Stevenson found Thompson with a long cross-field pass. Thompson dummied Hinton and Murray. Thompson cut between Hinton and Murray. In a flash, in the space, Thompson shot. And Thompson scored. And the supporters of Liverpool Football Club cheered, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club roared. And again the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For seventy minutes. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And just before the eightieth minute, Harris upended St John in the Chelsea penalty area. The referee blew his
whistle. The referee pointed to the penalty spot. Stevenson grabbed the ball. Stevenson placed the ball on the penalty spot. Stevenson stepped back. Stevenson stepped up. Stevenson shot. And Stevenson scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club two–nil. The players of Liverpool Football Club not drained, the players of Liverpool Football Club not exhausted. They were jubilant and they were triumphant. And never beaten. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club sang, Ee-aye-addio, we’re going to win the Cup …

  After the whistle, the final whistle. Tommy Docherty, the manager of Chelsea Football Club, walked down the touchline to Bill Shankly. Tommy Docherty shook hands with Bill Shankly. And Tommy Docherty said, I don’t understand it, Bill. You had a hard game in midweek. I just don’t understand it, Bill. All our boys were fit and fresh. But today you were fitter and you were fresher, Bill. You were by far the better side. Congratulations, Bill. Congratulations.

  Thank you, said Bill Shankly. And then Bill Shankly smiled. Bill Shankly took out the brochure from his coat pocket. And Bill Shankly handed the brochure to Tommy Docherty.

  Tommy Docherty looked down at the brochure. The Chelsea brochure for the FA Cup Final. Tommy Docherty shook his head. And Tommy Docherty said, What’s this, Bill? What on earth is this?

  Just a wee souvenir for you, said Bill Shankly. A little something for you to remember us by, Tommy. A Cup Final souvenir.

  18. THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

  In the house, in their hall. The letters never stopped coming. The first post and the second post. The letters always coming. The letters asking for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. In the house, at their door. The callers never stopped knocking. Early in the morning, late in the evening. The callers always knocking. The callers begging for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. In the house, in their hall. The telephone never stopped ringing. Early in the morning, late in the evening. The telephone always ringing. The calls pleading for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill answered them all. Bill apologised to them all. And in the house, in their hall. The telephone was still ringing. But now Bill had to go. The telephone still ringing. Bill put on his coat. The telephone still ringing. Bill put on his hat. The telephone still ringing. Bill opened the front door. The telephone still ringing. Bill stepped outside. The telephone still ringing. Bill closed the door. The telephone still ringing. Bill walked down the drive. In the street, children spotted him. The children called out to him. Bill waved at them. The children asked Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill apologised to them. Bill got into his car. Bill drove down the West Derby Road. On the pavements, people spotted him. People waved at him. Bill waved back. People begged Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And Bill apologised to them. Bill turned onto Belmont Road. Again, people waved at him. Again, Bill waved back. Again, people pleaded with Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. And again, Bill apologised to them. Bill turned into Anfield Road. Again, there were crowds of people. In the car park. Bill parked his car. Bill got out of his car. The crowds of people saw Bill. The crowds of people rushed to Bill. The crowds of people asked Bill for tickets. Cup Final tickets. They begged and they pleaded. Bill pushed through the crowds of people. And Bill apologised. Bill apologised and Bill apologised. And Bill went inside Anfield. The telephones ringing. Bill went up the stairs. The telephones ringing. Bill went down the corridor. The telephones ringing. Bill tapped on the office door. The telephones ringing. The office door of the club secretary. The telephones ringing. Bill opened the door. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the camp bed in the corner. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the bags of mail standing on the floor. The telephones ringing. The bags and bags of mail. The telephones ringing. Bill saw the stacks of letters on the desk. The telephones ringing. The stacks and stacks of letters. The telephones ringing. And Bill looked at Jimmy McInnes. The telephones ringing. Jimmy sat behind his desk. The telephones ringing. Among the letters. The telephones ringing. The stacks and stacks of letters. The telephones ringing. And Bill saw the circles under the eyes of Jimmy McInnes. The telephones ringing. The black, dark circles under Jimmy’s eyes. The telephones ringing. Bill picked up one of the phones on Jimmy’s desk. And Bill said, Yes, what do you want, sir?

  Did you get my letter, asked the voice on the other end of the line, the voice with a thick Birmingham accent. The letter I sent to you? The one I sent to you weeks ago now. Weeks ago …

  What letter was that, sir?

  For tickets. For the final. From Birmingham.

  In Jimmy’s office, down Jimmy’s phone. Bill shouted, From Birmingham? Birmingham? I’ve got hundreds of friends, hundreds of relatives, all asking me for tickets, sir. But not one of them is getting a ticket. Not one of them. The tickets we’ve got are going to the Kop. To the boys on the Kop. To the boys who have supported us, week in and week out. That’s where our tickets are going, sir. To the Kop. To the boys on the Spion Kop. The Liverpool boys.

  But I was born in Liverpool …

  Then you should have stayed here! You should never have moved to Birmingham. You should never have left Liverpool, sir.

  And Bill put down the phone. The telephones still ringing. Bill looked at Jimmy. The telephones ringing. The circles under the eyes of Jimmy McInnes. The telephones ringing. The black and dark circles. The telephones ringing. And Bill smiled. The telephones ringing. And Bill said, I see you’re still the most popular man at Anfield, Jimmy. Still the most popular man at Liverpool Football Club …

  No, I’m not, said Jimmy McInnes. I’m definitely the most unpopular man at Liverpool Football Club, Bill.

  Bill smiled again. The telephones ringing. And Bill said, No, Jimmy. No. I know you try to make as many people happy as you can, Jimmy. I know you try. I know you do …

  Yes, said Jimmy McInnes. I try, Bill. I really do try. But I can’t.

  Bill picked up a phone on the desk. Bill put down the phone again. But the telephone started ringing again. And Bill said, But at least you try, Jimmy. At least you try to make the people happy.

  …

  In the studio, the BBC studio. On the radio, on Desert Island Discs. Because Liverpool Football Club had reached the final of the FA Cup, because Liverpool Football Club would play Leeds United in the final. Roy Plomley asked Bill which eight records he would take with him if Bill was cast away on a desert island. And Bill chose My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose, sung by Kenneth McKellar. Bill chose When the Saints Go Marching In, sung by Danny Kaye and Louis Armstrong. Bill chose The Last Rose of Summer, sung by Sydney MacEwan and Robinson Cleaver. Bill chose Danny Boy, sung by Jim Reeves. Bill chose Étude in E major, Op. 10/3, composed by Frédéric Chopin, played by Claudio Arrau. Bill chose Because You’re Mine, sung by Mario Lanza. Bill chose The English Rose, sung by Webster Booth. And finally, Bill chose You’ll Never Walk Alone, sung by Gerry and the Pacemakers. Then Roy Plomley asked Bill which book he would take with him if Bill was cast away on a desert island. And Bill chose Life of Robert Burns, by John Stuart Blackie. And then Roy Plomley asked Bill what luxury item he would take with him if Bill was cast away on a desert island. Bill smiled, Bill laughed –

  And Bill said, A football.

  …

  On the bus, the Liverpool bus. On their way, up Wembley Way. With a bus behind them, an empty bus behind them. Just in case. Nothing left to chance. No shocks and no surprises. Everything planned, everything prepared. On their bus, their Liverpool bus. On their way, up Wembley Way. At the front of their bus, in his seat. Bill looked out through the window. Into a sea of red, into a world of red. Red scarves and red flags, red banners and red songs. Everywhere Bill looked, everywhere Bill turned. Bill saw red –

  A Red Sea and a Red World.

  And on the bus, the Liverpool bus. On their way, up Wembley Way. Bill stood up at the front, Bill turned up the radio. Bill on the radio, Bill on Desert Island Discs. And Bill shouted down the bus, Can you hear these songs, boys? These are al
l great songs. Great Scottish songs, boys. Great Liverpool songs –

  Great red songs, boys …

  In their dressing room, their Wembley dressing room. Bill saw the players of Liverpool Football Club smiling, listening to the songs of Frankie Vaughan. And Bill heard the players of Liverpool Football Club laughing, listening to the jokes of Jimmy Tarbuck. The players smiling, the players laughing. The players relaxed, the players ready. Ready for the game, ready for the final. The game now minutes away, the final now moments away. Bill walked into the centre of their dressing room, their Wembley dressing room. But Bill did not close the door, the dressing-room door. Bill stood with his back to the door, the open door. And Bill looked from player to player. From Tommy Lawrence to Chris Lawler. From Chris to Gerry Byrne. From Gerry to Geoff Strong. From Geoff to Ronnie Yeats. From Ronnie to Willie Stevenson. From Willie to Ian Callaghan. From Cally to Roger Hunt. From Roger to Ian St John. From the Saint to Tommy Smith. From Tommy to Peter Thompson. And Bill pointed out of the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room, across the corridor, the Wembley corridor, to the other dressing room, the Leeds dressing room. And Bill said, Look, boys. Look! They have had their door shut for the past hour. And listen, boys. Listen! They are silent in there. Silent as the grave. Because they are frightened, boys. Frightened of this occasion. Frightened of this opportunity. But look at you, boys. Look at all of you. You are bouncing. You are smiling. Because you are enjoying this occasion. You are relishing this opportunity. Because this is what you were born to do. This is what you’ve worked your whole lives for. The opportunity to win the Cup. The opportunity to make history. And to make the supporters of Liverpool Football Club happy. So enjoy it, boys. Enjoy it! Because this will be the greatest day of your lives …

  And then in their dressing room, their Wembley dressing room. Bill heard the buzzer, the Wembley buzzer. And Bill led the players of Liverpool Football Club down the tunnel, the Wembley tunnel, out onto the pitch, the Wembley pitch, and out into a sea of red, a world of red. LI-VER-POOL. A sea so deafening, a world so bright that the whole of London, the whole of England heard that sea and saw that world. LI-VER-POOL. On their radios and on their televisions. LI-VER-POOL. People might have read about the supporters of Liverpool Football Club, but today, on their televisions, live on their televisions, in black and white, now people saw the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. LI-VER-POOL. Their scarves and their flags, their banners and their songs. LI-VER-POOL. Now people saw the supporters of Liverpool Football Club and now people heard the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. LI-VER-POOL. This sea of red, this world of red. LI-VER-POOL. In black and white. LI-VER-POOL. And Bill knew people would never forget Liverpool Football Club. LI-VER-POOL. Their sea of red, their world of red. LI-VER-POOL. Not black, not white. LI-VER-POOL. But red, all in red. Their LI-VER-POOL, their LI-VER-POOL, their LI-VER-POOL …

 

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