by David Peace
Tuesday 29 April, 1975 –
At last, at last –
Bill got out of bed. Slowly. Bill went into the bathroom. Slowly. Bill shaved and Bill washed. Slowly. Bill went back into the bedroom. Slowly. Bill put on his shirt. His tangerine shirt. Slowly. Bill went to the dressing table. Bill opened the top drawer. Bill took out his cufflinks. His gold cufflinks. Bill closed the drawer. Bill did up the cuffs of his shirt. His tangerine shirt. Slowly. Bill went to the wardrobe. Bill opened the doors. Bill took out his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Bill left the wardrobe doors open. Slowly. Bill walked over to the bed. Bill laid out the suit on top of the bed covers. Bill took the trousers from the coat hanger. Bill put on the trousers of his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Slowly. Bill went back to the dressing table. Bill opened the second drawer of the dressing table. Bill took out a tie. Bill closed the drawer. Slowly. Bill walked back to the wardrobe. The doors still open. Bill stood before the mirror on the back of one of the doors. Bill put on his tie. Slowly. Bill went back over to the bed. Bill picked up the jacket from the bed. Bill took the jacket from the coat hanger. Bill put on the jacket of his suit. His freshly cleaned grey herringbone suit. Slowly. Bill walked back over to the dressing table. Bill opened the top drawer of the dressing table again. Bill took out one white handkerchief and one red pocket square. Bill closed the drawer. Bill put the white handkerchief in his left trouser pocket. Bill laid the red pocket square on the top of the dressing table. Bill brought the bottom point of the red pocket square up to the top point. Bill brought the left corner of the triangle to the right corner and then the right corner to the left corner. Bill folded the bottom almost towards the top. Slowly. Bill walked over to the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. Bill stood before the mirror. Bill placed the red pocket square in the breast pocket of his grey jacket. Bill looked in the mirror. Bill adjusted the pocket square until just enough of the point was coming out of the pocket. The red point out of the grey pocket. Slowly. Bill stepped back. Bill looked at the man in the mirror. And Bill said, I’m just glad the day has come. The worst thing in football is waiting for the match. It’s always all right when it comes. But this has been even worse for me than waiting for the Cup Final. But I feel a lot easier now that the day has arrived.
And Bill walked down the stairs. Slowly. Bill went into the kitchen. Slowly. Bill ate breakfast with Ness. Slowly. A slice of toast and honey, a glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of tea. Slowly. Bill helped Ness clear away the breakfast things. Slowly. Bill dried up the breakfast things. Slowly. Bill helped Ness put away the breakfast things. And then Bill stood in the middle of the kitchen –
You’re ready early, said Ness. Very early, love?
Well, I’m just glad the day has come, love. The worst thing in football is waiting for the match. It’s always all right when it comes, love. But this has been even worse than waiting for the Cup Final. But I feel a lot easier now the day has arrived, love …
I know, said Ness. I know, love.
I’m just looking forward to going to Anfield to see everybody again. All the people I worked with, all the people I worked for. I’m just looking forward to seeing them all again, love.
I know, said Ness again. I know, love.
Bill nodded. Slowly. Bill looked at his watch. Bill smiled. Bill laughed. And Bill said, But you’re right, love. You’re right. I’m ready too early. There’s still a long while yet. So I think I’ll go and read the paper for a bit. That’ll kill some time …
And Bill walked out into the hall. Slowly. Bill picked up the paper from the table in the hall. Slowly. Bill stared down at the front page of the Liverpool Echo. Slowly. Bill read the headline on the front page of the Liverpool Echo: THANKS SHANKS, ALL THE VERY BEST! Bill read the subheading: HE’S UNIQUE, SAYS PAISLEY, AND THAT SUMS IT UP …
And Bill walked into the front room. Slowly. Bill sat down in his chair. Slowly. In the front room, in his chair. Bill read the paper. And the tributes. Slowly. Bill put down the paper. The tributes. And in the front room, in his chair. Bill looked at his watch again. And Bill closed his eyes. Waiting and thinking. Thinking of the night ahead, waiting for the match to come. The match ahead, the night to come. The night at Anfield, the match at Anfield. His testimonial match, his testimonial night. His last night, his last match –
At Anfield, at Anfield –
Slowly. Bill came out of the darkness. Out of the tunnel. The Anfield tunnel. Slowly. Bill walked along the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Slowly. Bill walked onto the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Slowly. Bill shook the hands of the players. The players of the Don Revie Select. Peter Shilton and Gordon Banks. Roger Kenyon and Alan Ball. Alan Hudson and Colin Bell. Liam Brady and Willie Donachie. Leighton James and Steve Whitworth. Colin Todd and Billy Bremner. Terry Cooper and Bobby Charlton. Malcolm Macdonald and Mick Channon. And then Bill shook the hands of the players of Liverpool Football Club. Ray Clemence and Tommy Smith. Phil Neal and Phil Thompson. Peter Cormack and Emlyn Hughes. Kevin Keegan and Brian Hall. John Toshack and Ray Kennedy. Ian Callaghan and Steve Heighway. And then Bill walked back across the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Slowly. Bill walked back along the touchline. The Anfield touchline. And slowly. Bill sat down on the bench –
The Anfield bench. For the last time,
the very last time.
After the whistle. The final whistle. Bill stood up. Slowly. Bill got to his feet. Slowly. Bill walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Slowly. Bill shook hands with Don Revie. And Bill embraced Don. Bill shook hands with Bob Paisley. And Bill embraced Bob. And then slowly. Bill walked out onto the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Slowly. Bill shook hands with the players again. The players of the Don Revie Select. And the players of Liverpool Football Club. And then Bill walked towards the centre of the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Slowly. Bill reached the centre circle. The centre circle of the Anfield pitch. And Bill stood in the centre circle. In the centre circle of the Anfield pitch. And someone handed Bill a microphone. So Bill could speak to the crowd. The Anfield crowd. And Bill said, The very word Anfield means more to me than I can describe. But there has always been pride at Anfield. And this is another night of pride. A night of great pride. The pride I have for Liverpool. The football club and the city. And the pride you the supporters have in the team. Your team. That is the way it is at Anfield. The way it is at Liverpool. And I hope it will always be so. And so to my successor and past colleague Bob Paisley, and all the players, I offer my very best wishes for the future.
But the greatest honour that could have been bestowed upon me has been the staging of this match tonight. And so I’d like to thank everybody connected with it. Bob and his board of directors. Don Revie and the players of both sides. All of whom I know personally. I’d like to also thank the testimonial committee, club secretary Peter Robinson and development manager Ken Addison for all their hard work and efficiency. But most of all I want to thank you all –
Thank you all for contributing so much to making this what is, quite simply, the greatest thing that has happened to me in all my life. It means the most that you all still came to support me after I had been away from you for months. And so I thank you all for your loyalty. And for your loyalty to me during all my years at Liverpool. The greatest part of my whole life. No man could ever have more friends than me. No man can ever feel more grateful –
And no man can ever feel more proud. I am a proud man from my head to my toes. This means more to me than anything else. God bless you, God bless you all …
And Bill handed back the microphone. Slowly. Bill walked back towards the edge of the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Slowly. Bill walked around the stadium. The Anfield stadium. Over forty thousand folk had come to watch the testimonial for Gerry Byrne. Fifty-five thousand to watch the testimonial for Roger Hunt. There were not fifty-five thousand folk here tonight. Not even forty thousand. There were empty seats in the stands. The Anfield stands. But Bill did not see the empty seats in the stands. The
Anfield stands. Bill had eyes only for the Kop. The Spion Kop. There were no empty spaces on the Kop. The Spion Kop. The Kop full, the Spion Kop heaving. The Kop chanting, the Spion Kop singing, Shank-lee, Shank-lee, Shank-lee …
Shank-lee, Shank-lee, Shank-lee …
Shankly is Our King …
Before the Kop. The Spion Kop. His head bowed. His eyes closed. Bill fought back tears. Bill struggled to breathe.
And you’ll always be our king, you’ll always be our king. You’ll al-ways be our king …
OUR KING!
Before the Kop. The Spion Kop. In a dream. His head bowed. His eyes closed. In a dream. Bill could not fight back the tears. Bill could not breathe. And slowly. Bill turned away. In a dream. From the applause and from the affection. Slowly. Bill began to walk back towards the tunnel. But in a dream, in this dream. The Kop would not let Bill go. The Spion Kop would not let Bill leave. In a dream. Some of the supporters climbed out of the Kop. The Spion Kop. To shake Bill’s hand, to hold Bill tight. Draping Bill in scarves, garlanding Bill in scarves. Liverpool scarves, red scarves. In this dream. Three men dressed in white overalls, white overalls with red lettering, these three men gave Bill a plaque. A plaque entitled The Road to Glory. A complete record of Bill’s years at Anfield. A plaque on behalf of the Kop. The Spion Kop. In a dream. Another supporter handed Bill a silver tankard. A silver tankard engraved To Shanks, With thanks, A fan. In this dream. A young supporter presented Bill with a card. Two feet square. With a thousand signatures. All in red, all in red. From the Kop. The Spion Kop. And in a dream, in this dream. Bill heard the applause, Bill felt the affection. Down from the stands, down from the terraces. In a dream, in this dream. Bill did not want to wake up. From this dream. Bill never wanted to wake up. From this dream,
from this life. Bill never wanted to leave.
Bill never wanted to say goodbye.
61. I AM A CHRISTIAN AND A SOCIALIST, DESPITE YOU
Ringing. The bottle on the doorstep. Ringing. The paper through the letterbox. Ringing. The letters on the mat. Ringing. The knocking on the door. Ringing. The telephone never stopped ringing. With invitations and with offers. With offers and with requests. The invitation to come here, the invitation to go there. The offer to do this, the offer to do that. That request and this request. Bill Shankly tried to answer them all. Bill Shankly wanted to answer them all. Bill Shankly tried to accommodate them all. Bill Shankly wanted to accommodate them all. Bill Shankly wanted to keep busy. Bill Shankly tried to keep busy. To visit this hospital, to speak at that dinner. And to host a weekly radio show on Radio City. Bill Shankly wanted to do it, Bill Shankly was happy to do it. If people wanted him to do it, if people were happy for him to do it. That was all Bill Shankly wanted. To give the people what they wanted, to make the people happy –
But the people were not happy,
the people were depressed,
depressed and angry –
The people were demonstrating outside the Radio City building. The people were protesting against Harold Wilson and his Labour government. But inside the building. Inside the studio. In the dark and in the silence. Harold Wilson looked across the table at Bill Shankly. Harold Wilson nodded, Harold Wilson smiled. And Harold Wilson said, I was very glad when I heard you were going to do this and you wrote to me, and I wrote, almost by return of post, I think.
Yes, said Bill Shankly. It was a tremendously quick reply. The leading statesman in the land. In fact, the prime minister of Great Britain. I mean, for you to find time to come here is unbelievable. I mean, I thought that as a football manager I had a hard job …
Harold Wilson laughed.
But I can tell you one thing. Whereas I had to look after fifty-five thousand, you’ve to look after fifty-five million!
Yes, but it’s a very similar job, you know? You know what they said about me? When I formed the Cabinet the first time? Hardly anyone had ever sat in a Cabinet before. We’d been out of office for thirteen years. And it was said, I used to say it myself, that I’d take the penalties, I acted as goalkeeper, I went and took the corner kicks, dashed down the wing. Now I’ve got a very experienced Cabinet and I said, I’m not going to do that. They didn’t believe me. I said, I’m going to be what we used to call a deep-lying centre-half. I couldn’t say sweeper because nobody would understand it outside football.
No, laughed Bill Shankly. No, no.
A lot of kind of people don’t understand football, wouldn’t know. And then, I think it was the Liverpool Post said, Funny, he’s doing more than that. They said, In fact, he’s being a manager. He’s not even on the field. To which I said, I was very proud, from Liverpool, to refer to ‘the Manager’, which means Bill Shankly territory. I said this in a speech, I regard it as a compliment. But I went on to say this: where does the manager usually sit? On the substitutes’ bench. I was reminding my team that I’ve got people on the substitutes’ bench who think they are at least as good as anybody on the field. And I think that’s the similarity of a prime minister’s job and a football manager’s job.
Yes, said Bill Shankly. In other words, you delegated the right men for the right job?
Right. But not only that. Like a manager’s job, if your team gets relegated, as mine did in 1970, then some people start saying they want a change.
That’s correct, said Bill Shankly. Yes. But you have proven, and I hope that you will keep proving, that you are the man.
I’ve been there nearly as long as you were in Liverpool.
In politics longer than that, said Bill Shankly. Than at Liverpool, anyway. Er, Mrs Wilson writes poetry?
Harold Wilson said, Yeah, yeah.
This is true?
Harold Wilson nodded. And Harold Wilson said, She does. She always has, since she was a girl. And then, a few years ago, she was asked to put some in a book, and I think, according to her publisher, it’s the biggest sale of any book of poetry since the war.
Is that a fact, asked Bill Shankly.
Well, it’s all genuine stuff that she still believes in. She writes about human things. She wrote about Aberfan. She was so moved by the Aberfan disaster, when all those schoolchildren were killed. I flew down that night. She came soon after. And she also writes about things like the Durham Miners’ Gala …
Yes, oh yes.
And at Durham this year, she read them both out.
Authentic, said Bill Shankly.
Yes, that’s right. That she feels.
I mean, actually, said Bill Shankly, I was born in the same county as Scotland’s greatest poet, Robert Burns …
Harold Wilson said, Ah yes.
Who was not only a poet. A philosopher, a prophet. Everything. You name it. I think that if he had have lived until he was as old as Shakespeare and Wordsworth and them, I think that he would possibly have been in the First Division and they would have been in the Second Division.
Harold Wilson shook his head. And Harold Wilson said, I think, well, he is in the First Division, isn’t he?
Yes, said Bill Shankly. Yes.
And I know his poetry less than my wife does. Though I’ve never known it, when I’ve been speaking in Scotland, that somebody on the platform hasn’t quoted something. Either something familiar or something I didn’t know. The Secretary of State for Scotland, who is a great Burns Night speaker, he can recite yards of it at a time. Most Scotsmen can, I think …
He, said Bill Shankly, in actual fact, was one of the early people on socialism …
Harold Wilson said, He was really, yes.
Possibly the first one was Jesus Christ, of course, said Bill Shankly. But after that, Burns was a real socialist. And one of the instigators of socialism, I think. Of course, he was a great character as well, Robert Burns.
Harold Wilson nodded again. And Harold Wilson said, Yes, he was. I haven’t read as much about him as I should. But as a socialist, if one uses this phrase, and he was an early one as you say, it was because he felt it. It was because he loved his fellow men …
But he was not a theoretical socialist …
No, said Bill Shankly. No.
I don’t think he’d understand anything about the theory of value or any of the scientific socialist writing that I don’t bother much with myself, either …
No.
But he just felt a love of his fellow human beings and he wanted to see their lot improved.
That sums him up, said Bill Shankly. He was born in poverty. And he died in poverty.
Harold Wilson nodded. And Harold Wilson said, And he didn’t believe that the Lord created people to be unequal. That he created one set of people designed to rule the earth and others, you know, to just be the hewers of wood and drawers of water.
His books have been translated for the whole of Russia, said Bill Shankly. Most countries in the world, in fact. But Russia more than anybody, I think.
I’ve found that. I’ve been in Russia many times and they really, I think, worship the ground he walks on. I think he’s been translated into about one hundred and sixty Russian languages. And I remember, many years ago, they brought out a special postage stamp in his honour. Before it was thought of being done in Britain.
They did, said Bill Shankly. They did. For his anniversary.