by David Peace
SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE …
In the light, the mid-afternoon light. In the stadium, the Wembley stadium. Across the pitch, across the turf. Bill walked. His shoulders stooped, his head bowed. Bill stared down at the grass. The Wembley grass. The weight of the wood. The wood on his shoulders. One foot in front of the other. Bill kept walking. Head bowed, staring down. Down at the grass, down at the ground. One foot in front of the other. At the bottom of the ocean, along the seabed. Bill kept walking. Head bowed, staring down. With feet of stone, in boots of lead. One in front of the other. Walking. And walking. Head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground. The Wembley ground. Bill walking on, Bill stamping down the memories, Bill treading down the fears. The voices in his head, the whispers in his heart. The wasteland and the wilderness. Under the ground, under the sea. Buttoning his jacket and unbuttoning his jacket. At last, at last. Bill reached the halfway line. The Wembley halfway line. And Bill stopped walking. And at last, at last. Bill looked up. Up from the ground and up from the grass. And his eyes met the stands. The supporters in the stands. And Bill raised one hand. His right hand. In salute and in thanks. To all four sides of the stadium. All sixty-seven thousand folk inside the stadium. And to the millions at home. The millions watching on television at home. And then Bill lowered his hand. His right hand. And Bill walked from the halfway line to the benches. The Wembley benches. One foot quickly in front of the other. And Bill sat down. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Between Brian Clough and Jimmy Gordon. His shoulders forward, his head forward. The wood across his back, the lead upon his feet. His raincoat across his knees. His left arm on his raincoat. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin. Since I made my decision to retire, our front door has been besieged with people. The whistle now. Thompson passes forward. Clarke keeps his foot in. The skin ripped from Thompson’s ankle to his knee. First free kick to Liverpool. Now Jordan. Cherry. Giles. Clarke. Tommy Smith’s tackle on Clarke. It’s a booking. Number-ten Giles with the free kick. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat back. Bill crossed his legs. His right leg over his left. I have received hundreds of letters and telegrams. There’s too much pace on it. Hall. Callaghan. Heighway. Thompson. Cormack saw that all the way and then took his eye off it when it arrived. But here’s Hall again. Heighway. Hunter. Not a good tackle. Keegan. Good header by McQueen. Corner. Thompson coming up. Clarke almost deflecting that past Harvey as he came out. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill uncrossed his legs. Bill crossed his legs again. His left leg over his right. Thousands of fans have written to me, pleading with me to stay. Gray. Reaney outside Lorimer. Clarke and Jordan in the middle. Gray. Good blocking by Smith. Joe Jordan. Beautifully off the outside of his boots. Lorimer being forced wide. Reaney again on the overlap. Hughes in two minds. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill folded his arms across his chest. His right hand over his heart. Everybody seems to be affected. I have had letters from Australia, New Zealand, Canada and Scotland, as well as from Liverpool. Boersma. Keegan behind him. Heighway in the middle. Here’s Keegan. Trying to nick it in by the near post. Eddie Gray. Another good header by Cormack. Bremner. Hughes is a bit short. Thompson. Cormack. Keegan now out on the left. Only a crack on for him at the moment. Cormack coming up. He was unbalanced. But at least he saw that Keegan needed help. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill let go of his heart. Bill unfolded his arms. Both arms at his side. Bill uncrossed his legs. His left leg and his right. Both feet on the ground. Two young men came to my house with a card signed by two hundred customers from the Derby Arms Hotel, wishing me well for the future. And almost all of the couple of hundred of signatures were signed in red ink. But there were three signed in blue. That is amazing to me. That even Everton boys said they were sorry to see me go. Free kick to Liverpool for a push. Keegan. Good save. But it’s going to go in. And it’s gone. It’s in. He was unlucky, David Harvey. He made a very good save from Keegan. It ricocheted around. It was Keegan’s shot. But it may well have flicked off Phil Boersma. A goal out of nothing. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat forward again. His left arm on his raincoat again. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. And I feel very touched. This makes me feel I have possibly achieved something at Liverpool. Beautifully played, Keegan. There’s another chance on here. And it’s blocked. Boersma’s shot. Corner. Reaney on the near post. Boersma with the back-header. Hunter. Leeds not quite themselves since that goal. Bad sort of goal to concede. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat back again. Bill crossed his legs again. His right leg over his left. The tributes that were paid were wonderful, astonishing, emotional and touching. Jordan on his own. Now he has Gray out to the left. Did well there, Joe Jordan. Bremner. Lorimer. Through the back, nicely. Clarke, unlucky. Appealing for a handball that never was. McQueen coming forward. Leeds’ second corner of the match. McQueen stays up. Aimed for Reaney but too high for him. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill uncrossed his legs. Bill crossed his legs. His left leg over his right. I know there is even an idea to change the name of Bold Street to Shankly Parade. It’s all news to me. And anything that is in Liverpool that has my name to it I would be proud of. But I do not want anything to do with any controversy. Leeds have got three back now. Reaney making it four. Keegan. Heighway in the middle. Marked by Cherry. Hughes. Jordan now back behind the ball for Leeds. Lindsay. Hughes. Brian Hall striding his way through. Well saved again, David Harvey. Superb stuff from Brian Hall and a good save by David Harvey. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill folded his arms across his chest again. His right hand over his heart again. I came to Liverpool just to manage a football team. But the fact that these actions come from ordinary men and women in the street means more to me than money. Giles. Bremner. Interesting. Jordan to his left. Clarke further over. Good leap by Clemence. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill let go of his heart again. Bill unfolded his arms again. Both arms back at his side. Bill uncrossed his legs. Both feet back on the ground. They came from people my wife and I know. And from people we don’t know. And they came from people in high places right down to the rank and file. The working men, just like me, who go to Anfield. Now Boersma. Heighway. Good save again. Timed it superbly. But there are times when this Leeds defence is looking a bit short of pace. Cherry. Giles. Clemence gets there first. Keegan. Boersma to his right. Good early cross. Reaney’s header. Cormack. Callaghan. Boersma. Hughes. Off the crossbar. Emlyn Hughes. A thunderous effort. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat forward again. His left arm on his raincoat again. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. I class myself as one of them. I’m a working-class man. I used to work down the pit. I have no airs and graces. I might be better off now than some of them. But it has not altered my outlook on life or how I feel. Giles. Lorimer finding Giles again. Reaney. Four to find. Here’s Clarke. From Reaney’s cross. Allan Clarke all alone. Bit wild by Giles. Another free kick. Lindsay to take. The whistle. And half-time –
On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill stood up. Bill walked along the touchline. The Wembley touchline. Bill came to the mouth of the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. And Bill stopped. Bill looked down the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. Into the darkness, into the shadows. Bill started to walk again. Into the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. The darkness and the shadows. In the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. Bill stopped before the dressing-room door. The Wembley dressing-room door. In the darkness, in the shadows. Bill had his hand on the doorknob. The dressing-room doorknob. On the other side of the door. The dressing-room door. Bill could hear Bob Paisley talking. Talking to the team. The Liverpool team. In the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. Bill could hear Bob saying –
Just keep it up, lads. You’re doing fine, you’re doing well. So just k
eep it going, lads. Just keep it going …
In the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. The darkness and the shadows. Before the door. The dressing-room door. Bill took his hand off the doorknob. The dressing room-doorknob. And in the darkness. And in the shadows. Bill paced. Up and down, up and down. In the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. Bill paced and Bill paced. Up and down, up and down. And Bill waited and Bill waited. For the buzzer. The Wembley buzzer. And then at last, at last. In the tunnel. The Wembley tunnel. The darkness and the shadows. Bill heard the buzzer. The Wembley buzzer. And Bill saw the dressing-room door open. The Liverpool dressing-room door. Out of the corner of his eye again. Their boots in the tunnel, their studs on the concrete. Bill heard the team coming out. The Liverpool team. And Bill turned. And Bill saw the team coming out. The Liverpool team. And Bill greeted the players. The Liverpool players. Bill laughing, Bill smiling. Bill saying something, something like, Just keep it up, boys. You’re doing fine, you’re doing well. So just keep it going, boys. Just keep it going …
Buttoning his jacket, unbuttoning his jacket. His mouth still dry and his palms still wet. Bill ran his tongue along his lips again. Bill wiped his hands together again. Bill looked to the end of the tunnel. The light at the end of the tunnel. And Bill began to walk towards the light again. Bill walking back out with the team. The Liverpool team. Into the light, into the stadium. Still not sure if his jacket should be open, not sure if his jacket should be closed. Back around the touchline. The Wembley touchline. Buttoning his jacket and unbuttoning his jacket. Until at last, at last. Bill reached the benches again. The Wembley benches. And Bill sat back down. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Back between Brian Clough and Jimmy Gordon. His raincoat back across his knees. His left arm back on his raincoat. His right elbow back in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward again, his head forward again. His chin back in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. The only money I want is what I have earned. And all these tributes from the fans mean far more to me than anything like that. That was better than going around with the hat and collecting a hundred thousand pounds. The whistle again. And Keegan. Being forced away by McQueen. Gray. Cherry. Lorimer. Giles. Gray. Reaney and Lorimer both out to the right. Reaney. Now Lorimer, number seven. Jordan in the challenge with Smith. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat back. Bill crossed his legs. His right leg over his left. All these tributes, these letters, the press comment, have all meant more to me than money. But if you think I don’t want money, you would be wrong! But all I want is enough to live on. That is all. Clarke up forward. Looking for Jordan instead. It’s a bit long. But it’ll run for him. Bremner. Went one way, tried to come back the other. Jordan unable to bore in on that pass. Just forced him more to the corner. Clarke down hurt. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill uncrossed his legs. Bill crossed his legs again. His left leg over his right. My mother was a very kind woman. And something she used to say still sticks in my mind. It was, If I have enough, I have plenty, and I don’t want any more. That is a really great philosophy. And I’ve always tried to bear it in mind. Boersma coming now. No one there. But that’s where they ought to have been. Allan Clarke still down. Boersma. Nicely done. Good save. He’ll try again. But if he had kept his head then, he wouldn’t have gone for the second shot. He could have found Cormack. And then Harvey would have been committed in the wrong spot. The pressure still on. And that looked very much like a right hook by Johnny Giles. Keegan, the player down. Got up quickly. Giles going into the book. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill folded his arms across his chest. His right hand over his heart. I’m not greedy. And I don’t want anything to which I am not entitled. My father would always give rather than take. Free kick never on. But more trouble off the ball. Keegan involved again. Billy Bremner being called over. McQueen being waved away. Keegan involved again. Kevin Keegan still having words with the referee. Keegan who was sent off in Germany when it was a case of mistaken identity. And he’s off here. And he’s absolutely livid about it. And Bremner is off as well. Bremner off as well. And they are both throwing their shirts down. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill let go of his heart again. Bill unfolded his arms again. Both arms back at his side. Bill uncrossed his legs. Both feet back on the ground. They were one hundred per cent honest. My father and my mother. They didn’t have much themselves. But they were always willing to help others as much as they could. Gray now. Good play by Cherry. Giles just coming onto it. Jordan came a little bit too soon. Jordan went in on it. And it seemed to come loose. And in comes McQueen. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat forward again. His left arm on his raincoat again. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. I would like to be judged not really on what I did but on the fact that I never cheated. I was not dishonest. I was never careless with money or with people. Basic honesty is the greatest thing any human being can possess. Some people cannot help being dishonest. But if everyone was honest, there would be none of the tangles there are in the world today. Lindsay. Nicely played by Callaghan. Boersma. Heighway just around the penalty spot. Hall further over. Goal kick. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat back again. Bill crossed his legs again. His right leg over his left. I have never begged for anything. And what I have received I have earned. And no matter what happens in the future, the memory of that will never be erased. Lorimer. Cherry. And a goal. A good goal. Oneall. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill uncrossed his legs. Bill crossed his legs again. His left leg over his right. But all I have done has been for the club and for the people. For without the people, there would be no club. Giles to Gray. Cherry. Reaney. Giles. Reaney going down the flank. Gray. Lorimer. And McKenzie was the player who very nearly forced it in. Goal kick. But pushing anyway. So a free kick. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill folded his arms across his chest again. His right hand over his heart again. Because I appreciate everyone who comes to Anfield. Heighway. And he’s done well. Hall’s going to take the free kick. Heighway up on one side. Boersma on the other. Callaghan arrives. Lovely stuff. Superb by Callaghan. And Cormack so, so near. Goal kick. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill let go of his heart again. Bill unfolded his arms again. Both arms back at his side. Bill uncrossed his legs. Both feet back on the ground. Once I recall going onto the Kop about an hour before a match. Just to talk to the fans. And one of them thought I was going to watch the match from there. And so he said, Come and stand over here, Bill. You’ll get a good view. Cormack. Thompson. Smith. Heighway. He really hit that. And Harvey did very well. Tremendous piece of play by Heighway. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill sat forward again. His left arm on his raincoat again. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. Now, perhaps, in future days, I will have more time to talk to these wonderful fans. These fans who have meant so much to me during my time here. Hunter. Lorimer. Reaney. Hunter again. Corner. Four waiting. Giles. Looked as though he was going to trap, but instead flicked directly at it. Would have made a picture goal. Here’s Hall. Reaney. The touch was enough. Lindsay. Boersma. Heighway. The tackle from Giles. And a penalty competition it is going to be. At the final whistle. One–one, the final score, over the ninety minutes. The penalties now. And then possibly the prospect of sudden death. After the first five penalties, then it will be sudden death. Sudden death, if nothing is decided. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bob Paisley tapped Bill on the shoulder. Bill turned around. Bill leaned back. Bob Paisley whispered in Bill’s ear, whispered something Bill did not quite hear, did not quite catch. But Bill nodded. And then Bill sat forward again. On the bench. The Wembley bench. His left arm on his raincoat again. His right elbow in his left hand on his right knee. His shoulders forward. His head forward. His chin in his right hand. His fingers stroking his chin again. Since I made my decision to retire, our front door has been besieged with people. I
have received hundreds of letters and telegrams. Thousands of fans have written to me, pleading with me to stay. Ray Clemence and David Harvey. At the goal at the end by the players’ tunnel. Bob Matthewson coming up. Alongside him, Peter Lorimer. So Peter Lorimer against Ray Clemence. One–nothing to Leeds United. Alec Lindsay now against David Harvey. One apiece. Johnny Giles. And a lot of whistles for him. But two–one to Leeds. Emlyn Hughes. That was the blaster. Two apiece. Eddie Gray the next to go. Three–two. Very calmly taken. A kick of a very different style to Emlyn Hughes. Brian Hall with the job of making it three-all. Which he does very comfortably. The penalty kicks so far of a very high standard. Norman Hunter. Four–three. Tommy Smith. Four apiece. So Trevor Cherry coming up for the last of Leeds’ five penalties. Clemence not too far away from that. Five–four. Peter Cormack. Liverpool’s number five in all possible senses. Five–five. To take us into sudden death. The goalkeepers looking to see who comes next. And Harvey is going to take against Clemence. And Harvey hits the bar. He’s missed. But that’s not it. Callaghan coming up to take now. So Clemence has not been given the responsibility. So Ian Callaghan, the Footballer of the Year, with the chance to give Liverpool the Charity Shield. Which he does. On the bench. The Wembley bench. Bill stood up. Bill turned. Bill looked for Bob Paisley. Bill reached for Bob Paisley. And Bill shook Bob’s hand. Bill congratulated Bob. And then Bill walked onto the pitch. The Wembley pitch. His hand outstretched again. And Bill went from player to player. Liverpool player and Leeds player. And Bill shook their hands. The hands of the Liverpool players, the hands of the Leeds players. Congratulating them or commiserating with them. And Emlyn Hughes held Bill. Emlyn Hughes hugged Bill. Squeezed him as though he would never let him go. And Bill whispered, Go on, son. Go on and lead the team. And collect that shield. Go on now, son. Go on …