Red Or Dead

by David Peace

  On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill and forty-eight thousand, four hundred and sixty-four folk watched Ray Clemence try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Chris Lawler try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Alec Lindsay try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Ian Ross try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Larry Lloyd try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Emlyn Hughes try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Peter Thompson try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Brian Hall try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Steve Heighway try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. They watched Bobby Graham try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. And they watched Ian Callaghan try his hardest for Liverpool Football Club. But still they saw no drive. They saw no leadership. And still they saw no spark. Still they saw no fire. And again they saw no goals. And again they saw Liverpool Football Club draw nil–nil. Again. Nil–nil with Chelsea Football Club. At home,

  at Anfield. In the office, at his desk. In the night and in the silence. Bill looked down at the paper. The pink evening paper. And Bill looked down at the table. The League table. And Bill saw the standings. The First Division standings. Liverpool Football Club had played twelve games. Liverpool Football Club had thirteen points. And Liverpool Football Club were ninth in the First Division. And in the office, at his desk. Bill put down the paper. The pink evening paper. And in the night and in the silence. Bill picked up the glue. The pot of glue. Bill picked up the scissors. The pair of scissors. And Bill coughed. Bill coughed

  again. On the bench, the bench at the City Ground. Bill was watching the new Liverpool Football Club play Nottingham Forest. Bill watching Tommy Smith, Bill watching Kevin Keegan. Bill watching drive and leadership, Bill watching spark and fire. And in the fifth minute, Emlyn Hughes scored. In the sixty-fifth minute, Steve Heighway scored. And in the seventy-eighth minute, Smith scored a penalty. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Nottingham Forest three–two. And on the bench, the bench at the City Ground. Bill smiled. And then Bill coughed. Bill coughed again. And

  again. On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill and forty-two thousand, nine hundred and forty-nine folk were watching the new Liverpool Football Club play Fußball-Club Bayern München e.V. of West Germany in the first leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. But the new Liverpool Football Club did not score. And Fußball-Club Bayern München did not score. And the new Liverpool Football Club drew nil–nil with Fußball-Club Bayern München in the first leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. Bill coughing,

  coughing and coughing. On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill and forty-one thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven folk were watching the new Liverpool Football Club play Huddersfield Town. And again, they saw drive and leadership. Again, they saw spark and fire. And in the fifty-seventh minute, Tommy Smith scored. And in the eightieth minute, Alun Evans scored. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Huddersfield Town two–nil. Bill smiling. But Bill coughing,

  still coughing. On the bench, the bench at Upton Park. Bill watched the new Liverpool Football Club play West Ham United in the Third Round of the Football League Cup. And there was drive and there was leadership. But again there was no spark. And again there was no fire. Again Kevin Keegan had not travelled. Again Kevin Keegan was injured. And the new Liverpool Football Club lost two–one to West Ham United in the Third Round of the Football League Cup. Away from home, away from Anfield. Without the spark and without the fire. Bill was not smiling. But Bill was coughing again. Again and again. Bill could not stop

  coughing. In the house, in their bedroom. Bill was coughing and Bill was sweating. In the house, in their kitchen. Bill took a nip of Scotch. But Bill was still coughing, Bill was still sweating. Coughing and coughing, sweating and sweating. And in the house, in their hall. Ness put her hand on Bill’s forehead –

  You’re burning up, love. You’re on fire. You should go back to bed. Or at least see the doctor …

  Bill shook his head. Bill smiled. And Bill said, I’ll be fine, love. I’ll be fine. It’s only a wee cough and a cold, love.

  And Bill picked up his hat. Bill put on his hat. Bill coughed. And Bill said, I’ll see you tonight, love …

  And Bill went out of the front door. Bill coughing. Bill went down the drive. Bill sweating. Bill got into the car. Coughing, sweating. Bill drove to work. Coughing and sweating. Bill pulled into the car park at Anfield. Bill coughing. Bill parked the car. Bill sweating. Bill got out of the car. Coughing, sweating. Bill walked across the car park. Coughing and sweating. Bill went into the stadium. Bill coughing. Bill went down the corridor. Bill sweating. Bill went up the stairs. Coughing, sweating. Bill went into his office. Coughing and sweating. Bill took off his hat. Bill coughing. Bill hung up his hat. Bill sweating. Bill walked around the bags of mail. Coughing, sweating. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Coughing and sweating. Bill sat down at his desk. Bill coughing. Bill reached into the first bag of mail on top of the mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill sweating. Bill took out a letter. Coughing, sweating. Bill opened the letter. Coughing and sweating. Bill read the letter. Twice. Bill coughing. And then a third time. Bill seeing double. Bill sweating. Bill put down the letter. Coughing, sweating. Bill opened the top drawer of his desk. Coughing and sweating. Bill took out a piece of paper. Bill coughing. Bill closed the top drawer of his desk. Bill sweating. Bill threaded the piece of paper into his typewriter. Coughing, sweating. Bill turned the platen knob. Coughing and sweating. And Bill began to type. Bill coughing. To type and to type. Bill sweating. Coughing, sweating. Coughing and sweating. Bill stopped typing. But Bill could not stop coughing. Bill looked at his watch. Bill could not stop sweating. Bill got up from his desk. Coughing, sweating. Bill picked up his bag from the floor. Coughing and sweating. Bill walked around the bags of mail. Bill coughing. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill sweating. Bill went out of his office. Coughing, sweating. Bill walked down the corridor. Coughing and sweating. Bill saw someone walking down the corridor towards him. Maybe two people. Three people –

  Are you all right, asked John Reid. You look terrible, Bill. What’s wrong with you, man? Come with me …

  On the bench. Bill coughing. In the treatment room. Bill sweating. Bill felt the stethoscope cold on his chest. Coughing, sweating. Bill felt the thermometer cold in his mouth –

  You’ve got the flu, said John Reid. Very, very bad flu, Bill. And possibly also tonsillitis. And so you need to go back home, man. Back to your bed. And you need to go now, Bill …

  On the bench. Coughing and sweating. In the treatment room. Bill coughed again. Bill shook his head. Sweating, Bill said, But I’ve got training, doc. And I’m late enough as it is …

  Don’t talk daft, said John Reid. You can’t train, Bill. Not like this, in this condition. You’ll bloody kill yourself, man.

  On the bench. Coughing, sweating. In the treatment room. Coughing and sweating. Bill shook his head again. And Bill said, I’ve never missed a day’s training in my life, doc. Not one. Never in my life. What will the players say, doc? What will the players think? If I go back home. Back to my bed. What will the players think …

  If you go down to the changing rooms like this, said John Reid. If you get on the bus like this, Bill. Then you’ll infect the whole bloody team, man. The whole team will get what you’ve got.

  Still coughing and still sweating. Bill still shaking his head. Bill said, And then there’s the game. I’ve only ever missed one match. I wasn’t even ill. I went to watch Cologne. And we drew one–one with Stockport County in the Cup. Stockport bloody County …

  Bill, Bill, said John Reid. If you go near the team, then we’ll have no bloody team. And it’ll be because of you, Bill. Because you refused to go home. All because of you. So go home –

  And go home now, man!

  …

  In the house, in their bedroom. Coughing, sweating. In
the bed, on his back. Still coughing and still sweating. Bill was listening to the radio. Bill was listening to the commentary from Bramall Lane, Sheffield. And in the bed, on his back. Bill heard Kevin Keegan score. But Sheffield United scored, too. And the new Liverpool Football Club drew one-all with Sheffield United. Away from home, away from Anfield. Coughing, sweating. Bill heard the football scores on the radio. And on his back, in his head. Bill worked out the standings in the table. Coughing and sweating. Bill knew Manchester United were first in the First Division. And Derby County were second. Manchester City third. Leeds United fourth. Sheffield United fifth. Arsenal Football Club sixth. And on his back, in his head. Bill knew Liverpool Football Club were seventh in the First Division. And Bill got up. Coughing, sweating. Bill got dressed. Coughing and sweating, sweating and coughing –

  Bill went back to work. On the bench, the bench at the Sechzger Stadion in Munich. Against the advice of his doctor. Coughing, sweating. Against the orders of his doctor. Coughing and sweating. On the bench, the bench at the Sechzger Stadion. Bill watched the new Liverpool Football Club play Fußball-Club Bayern München in the second leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. And in the twenty-fourth minute, coughing and sweating, Bill watched Müller score for Fußball-Club Bayern München. And three minutes later, still coughing and still sweating, Bill watched Müller score again for Fußball-Club Bayern München. And in the thirty-seventh minute, coughing and sweating, Bill watched Alun Evans score for the new Liverpool Football Club. But it didn’t matter, it didn’t count. In the seventy-fifth minute, still coughing and still sweating, still sweating and still coughing. Bill watched Höneß score a third goal for Fußball-Club Bayern München. And the new Liverpool Football Club had lost three–one to Fußball-Club Bayern München in the second leg of the Second Round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. Away from home, away from Anfield. The new Liverpool Football Club were out of the European Cup Winners’ Cup. Coughing, sweating. Out of Europe,

  again. Sweating and coughing.

  …

  Before the house, on their doorstep. In the night, still coughing. Bill unlocked the front door of the house. In the night, still sweating. Bill opened the door. In the night, still coughing. Bill stepped into the house. In the dark, still sweating. Bill closed the door. In the dark, still coughing. Bill put down his suitcase in the hallway. In the dark, still sweating. Bill walked down the hallway to the kitchen. In the dark, coughing. Bill went into the kitchen. In the dark, sweating. Bill sat down at the table. In the dark, coughing. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. In the dark, sweating. Bill put his head down on the table. In the dark. Coughing, sweating. Bill closed his eyes. In the dark. Coughing and sweating. Bill knew it was always easier to give up. To throw in the towel. And surrender. To the chains, to the knives, to the spades. To take your comfort in past glories, to dine out on past victories. To abandon the present to other men, to leave the future to younger men. And to let the grass grow, and to let the wind blow. As you took your comfort, as you ate your dinner. Suffocating under your blankets, choking on your dinner. In the wasteland and in the wilderness. Choking and suffocating. Your limbs bound, your throat cut, your body buried. Choking on your own blood, suffocating in your own grave. As the grass grew and the wind blew. In the wasteland, in the wilderness. In the kitchen, at the table. In the dark. Coughing, sweating. Coughing and sweating. Bill knew you could never give up. Never throw in the towel. And never surrender. To the chains, to the knives, to the spades. To the grass and to the wind. And in the kitchen, at the table. In the dark. Bill opened his eyes. In the night. Bill stood up. Bill got to his feet. Bill knew you could never give up –

  You could never, ever give up –

  Never, ever give up.

  39. A COUNTRY MILE

  On Saturday 6 November, 1971, Arsenal Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-six thousand, nine hundred and twenty-nine folk came, too. But that afternoon, Kevin Keegan did not come. Keegan was injured again. And in the fifth minute, the ball fell between Tommy Smith and Chris Lawler. And Smith left it for Lawler and Lawler left it for Smith. And Kennedy came between Smith and Lawler. Kennedy shot. And Kennedy scored. But the supporters of Liverpool Football Club did not give up. And so the players of Liverpool Football Club did not give up. And in the forty-first minute, Smith rolled a free kick square to Emlyn Hughes. And Hughes shot. And Hughes scored. In the fifty-fifth minute, Smith chipped the ball through to Ian Callaghan. And Callaghan saw Wilson off his line. And Callaghan lobbed the ball over Wilson. Into the net and into a goal. Twenty minutes later, Kennedy shot. Ray Clemence knocked the shot down. Down into the path of Smith. Smith running back to cover, Smith colliding with the ball. Falling with the ball. Into the net and into the goal. His own net, his own goal. But again the supporters of Liverpool Football Club did not give up. And so again the players of Liverpool Football Club did not give up. And in the eighty-seventh minute, Hughes passed to John Toshack. Toshack passed to Ian Ross. Ross shot. And Ross scored. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Arsenal Football Club three–two. At home, at Anfield.

  One week afterwards, the new Liverpool Football Club came to Goodison Park, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-six thousand, five hundred and sixty-three Merseyside folk came, too. But again Kevin Keegan did not come. Keegan still injured. And without that spark, without that fire. The new Liverpool Football Club lost one–nil to Everton Football Club. Away from home,

  away from Anfield. On Saturday 20 November, 1971, the new Liverpool Football Club travelled to Highfield Road, Coventry. But again Kevin Keegan did not travel. Keegan still injured. And Larry Lloyd did not travel. Lloyd now injured. And John Toshack did not travel. Toshack now injured, too. But Jack Whitham travelled with the new Liverpool Football Club to Highfield Road, Coventry. And in the eightieth minute, Whitham scored. And in the eighty-ninth minute, Whitham scored again. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Coventry City two–nil. Away from home, away from Anfield.

  One week later, West Ham United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-three thousand, three hundred and ninety-nine folk came, too. But not Keegan. Not Lloyd. And not Toshack. But in the sixty-ninth minute, Emlyn Hughes scored. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat West Ham United one–nil. At home, at Anfield.

  On Saturday 4 December, 1971, the new Liverpool Football Club travelled to Portman Road, Ipswich. That day, Kevin Keegan did travel with the new Liverpool Football Club. And Keegan did play for the new Liverpool Football Club. But still there was no spark, still there was no fire. And no goals. And the new Liverpool Football Club drew nil–nil with Ipswich Town. Away from home, away from Anfield. One week afterwards, Derby County came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-four thousand, six hundred and one folk came, too. But still no Lloyd and still no Toshack. But Keegan came and Whitham came. And in the fourteenth minute, Whitham scored. And in the forty-fourth minute, Whitham scored again. And in the fifty-third minute, Whitham scored a third. A hat-trick. And the new Liverpool Football Club beat Derby County three–two. At home, at Anfield. That evening, Manchester United had thirty-three points. Manchester United still first in the First Division. Manchester City were second. Leeds United third. And Derby County fourth. That evening, the new Liverpool Football Club had twenty-seven points. That evening, the new and battered, bruised and wounded Liverpool Football Club were fifth in the First Division. Despite their injuries, against the odds. The new Liverpool Football club were moving up –

  Up the League, up the table.

  Two days after Christmas Day, 1971, the new Liverpool Football Club travelled to the Hawthorns, Birmingham. West Bromwich Albion had lost their last seven games. West Bromwich Albion were bottom of the First Division. Last in the League. And fighting for their lives. And on Monday 27 December, 1971, Brown scored for West Bromwich Albion. And the new Liverpool Football Club lost one–nil to West Bromwich
Albion. Away from home, away from Anfield. Five days later, on New Year’s Day, 1972, Leeds United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That New Year’s Day, fifty-three thousand, eight hundred and forty-seven folk came, too. Leeds United were third in the First Division. But Liverpool Football Club had not lost at home, at Anfield, for thirty-four League games, not since March 1970. And in the first half, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club roared and roared and roared. And the players of the new Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. And the players of the old Leeds United defended and defended and defended. And Sprake saved from Hughes. And Keegan hit the post. And then Whitham found himself in front of the goal. The Leeds goal, an open goal. With the ball at his feet. And the Leeds goal yawning. And Whitham shot. But the Leeds goal was no longer open, the Leeds goal no longer yawning. There was Madeley. On the goal line. The Leeds goal line. To clear the ball and to save the day. The day for Leeds United. And in the fifty-eighth minute, Giles played a free kick out wide to Madeley on the right. Madeley nodded the ball back across the goal. And with a flick of his head, Clarke headed the ball into the net and into a goal. Twenty minutes later, Lorimer won the ball in a tackle. Lorimer passed the ball to Clarke. Clarke passed the ball to Jones. Jones shot. And Jones scored. And on New Year’s Day, 1972, the new Liverpool Football Club lost two–nil to the old Leeds United. At home, at Anfield. Bill Shankly walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. And Bill Shankly shook the hand of Don Revie –