Bill never forgot. Bill always remembered. Every hour of every day. Every day of every week. Every week of every month. Every month of every year. Every year and every season. Every season and every match. Every single match. From the first match to the last match. Bill always remembered, Bill never forgot. But Bill did not really care for anniversaries. Bill did not really celebrate anniversaries. The march of time, the passage of time. But people kept reminding Bill of this particular anniversary. People would not let Bill forget this particular anniversary. On his doorstep, on the telephone. In the house or in the street. In conversations and in interviews. Journalists and well-wishers. Asking Bill for his thoughts, asking Bill for his reminiscences. Asking him and reminding him. About the march of time, the passage of time. From that first match to that last match. And in the street or in the house. In interviews or in conversations. Bill smiled. And Bill said, Oh well, yes. It was very different then. A different time, a different world. And Anfield was very different then, when I first came. A different place, a different world. The Kop was open, yes. But the present-day stands had not been built, no. And gates had dropped to
about twenty-one thousand. Unbelievable, really. Bloody unbelievable. When you think of what Anfield is now, the gates they get now. Every week, every Saturday. Bloody unbelievable. But then, back then. There was an air of depression about the place. Not like now, not like these days. And I remember when I came over to Liverpool with my wife to have a look around. And we went to the training ground. It was like a wilderness. A bloody wilderness. There was only the one pitch. And a tumbledown old shed for the lads to change in. And there was even an old air-raid shelter still there. A bloody air-raid shelter. Because nobody could be bothered to pull it down. Not until I came.
In the house or in the street. Bill smiled again. And Bill said, I mean, all you could really say was that it was there. But that was all. That was Liverpool Football Club then. A hell of a lot of potential. But not much bloody else. Not much else except the people, of course. And that was why I came. For the people, the Liverpool people. Even then, they were fantastic. Fantastic people. But I knew they were fantastic people. The Liverpool people. Before I came, I knew. Because I had seen some boxing contests at Anfield. Peter Kane against Jimmy Warnock. Ernie Roderick fighting the great Henry Armstrong. And I had a nose operation in Liverpool, too. Before the war. So I knew the people and I knew the city. I knew the city was like a Scottish city, the people like Scottish people. Full of a kind of Celtic pride, if you know what I mean? And so I mean, I’ve always identified with Liverpool people. And so I promised myself that we would build something here, something they could always be proud of …
In the street or in the house. Bill nodded. And Bill said, So that was why I came. Yes. Why I left Huddersfield Town. But I mean, if the board of Huddersfield Town had been ambitious, we would have won even more than Liverpool did! I mean, just look at the players we had there in those days, back in those days at Huddersfield. Denis Law, Ray Wilson, the Yorkshire cricketer Ken Taylor, Bill McGarry, Ray Wood and several more. What bloody players, what a bloody team. But Huddersfield was a seller’s market. That was all it was. A bloody seller’s market. I mean, I wanted to be buying, not bloody selling. I wanted the money to buy Yeats and St John. I wanted them for Huddersfield. And can you imagine, imagine if those two had joined the players we had at Huddersfield Town? Imagine what a team
that would have been. What a bloody team. I mean, I think they would have won everything. But they wouldn’t find the money to buy Yeats and St John or any of the players I wanted. And instead they sold the players we had. Bloody sold them. That’s the difference. The bloody difference between Huddersfield and Liverpool. And so look at Huddersfield Town now, where Huddersfield Town are now. In the Fourth Division, the bloody Fourth Division. And it breaks my heart to see them there, it really does. I mean, when you think of the history of that football club. The things they did, the things they won. The managers they had and the players they had. And their supporters. It breaks my heart, it really does. But that is why Huddersfield Town are in the Fourth Division and Liverpool Football Club are the League Champions. And have been the League Champions six times since 1959, since I first came. And won the FA Cup twice and the European Cup twice. And the UEFA Cup. That’s the difference.
In the house or in the street. Bill shook his head. And Bill said, But you know I was offered the job at Anfield eight years before? Eight years earlier. George Kay was still the manager then. And he had been the manager for fifteen years. It was George, of course, who was the manager when Liverpool won their fifth title in 1947. And he took them to the FA Cup Final in 1950, too. The final they lost to Arsenal. And did you know George also played in the very first Cup Final to be played at Wembley Stadium? Oh yes, he was the captain of West Ham in the White Horse final. Anyway, George was not a well man. He could not go on. And so Liverpool advertised for a new manager. And I applied for the job. I mean, I was at Carlisle. And I was still very new to the job. But I was ambitious. I have always been ambitious. Not for me, but for the supporters. I mean, right from the start I tried to show the supporters that they are the people who matter. The supporters, the team and the manager are the only people who really matter. Not the directors. But at Carlisle, it was the same story. The same story as at Huddersfield later. The directors lacked the ambition. The ambition and the belief. I mean, we had a good run in the Cup at Carlisle. Eighty thousand folk had watched the two games against Arsenal. And they had got good money for Ivor Broadis, too. But the directors would not use the money from the Cup or the money from Ivor. Again, Carlisle were a selling club. Not a buying club. And
so I applied for the job at Liverpool. And I was invited over to Liverpool. I was very surprised to be invited. And I remember, when I got off the train at Lime Street, I saw Andy Beattie. Andy bloody Beattie! My good friend from my Preston days, my old friend from my Scotland days. And so I knew where he was going, why he was there. And he knew where I was going, why I was there. And I remember, we both looked at each other and we both laughed. And we both said, Well, that’s two people who won’t be getting the bloody job then! But you know, I was actually asked if I would be the manager? Oh yes, they offered me the job. But right away I said, Who picks the team?
In the street or in the house. Bill shook his head again. And Bill said, And of course, in those days. Back in those days. Nobody asked directors questions. Especially not a question like that. And so they told me they picked the team. They were in charge of selecting the team. They met in a little committee on a Friday and they made their choices. They made their selections. And then they would call in the manager. And they would tell him who they had picked. They would tell him who was playing. Whether he agreed or not, whether he liked it or not. And so I said to them, I said, Then you don’t need a manager. You need a trainer. And I am not a trainer. I am a manager. And so I pick the team. I say who plays. And so you don’t want me and I don’t want you. So no thank you, gentlemen. And goodnight!
In the house or in the street. Bill laughed. And Bill said, But you see, they never forgot me. Oh no! Nobody else had asked them that question. Nobody else had spoken to them like that. Oh no. And so they always remembered me. Especially Mr Williams. He never forgot me, he always remembered me. My enthusiasm and my passion. But when they came calling, when they came calling in 1959. That was still the first question I asked, still the first thing I asked them, Who picks the team? But by then, you see. By 1959, they had changed their tune. They had learnt the hard way. Oh yes. And so they said, You do, Mr Shankly. Because you will be the manager. And so I said, Yes! Yes then, I will be the manager of Liverpool Football Club then. And so it’s true to say, very true to say, I was the first genuine manager Liverpool Football Club ever had!
In the street or in the house. Bill smiled. And Bill said, Well, that’s a good question, a very good question. What would have
happened if Bill Shankly had come to Liverpool Football Club in 1951? Eight years earlier. Well, I have no doubt. No doubt at all. We would have conquered the world. The whole bloody world. I mean, I was thirty-six years old then. And I was at my best, I was in my prime. I had helped Carlisle to take sixty-two points in a season. And then later at Grimsby, we got sixty-six points from forty-two games. Because I was at my best, I was in my prime. The height of my ambition, my desire to succeed. For the people of the club, the supporters of the club. Whatever club I was at, whether it was Carlisle or Grimsby Town. Workington or Huddersfield. And so that was what I would have brought to Liverpool Football Club in 1951. And what I did bring to Liverpool in 1959. That ambition, that desire. And my passion. My passion for the game, my passion for the supporters …
In the house or in the street. Bill shook his head. And Bill said, But you know, it was a constant battle. A constant struggle. I mean, when we won the Second Division championship. When we were promoted to the First Division. The shareholders gave us all a silver cigarette box. You know, a wee little pat on the head. And I remember looking down at that silver cigarette box in my hands. And then I looked up at the shareholders. And up at the directors. And I said to them, I said, Do you think we have won something? We have won nothing! This is bloody nothing. This is only the start! Only the bloody start. Now we’re going after the real prizes. The real bloody prizes.
In the street or in the house. Bill smiled again. And Bill said, And we won the First Division. And we won the FA Cup. And we won the League again. And we went into Europe. We went after Europe. And they were wonderful days. Oh yes! Truly wonderful days. Because it was all new, you see? All new. So people didn’t expect you to win trophies all the time. And so the atmosphere was unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable. Because of the supporters. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club. They were unbelievable. They
are
unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable. And they inspire the team, you see? And so the team know who they are playing for, the players of Liverpool Football Club always know who they are playing for. Playing for the supporters, playing as part of a team. Because football is a team game. And so there is no room for prima donnas in a team. Because no man is more important than the team. And everyone is part
of that team. Not just the players, the eleven players on the pitch. But the manager, the coach, the tea lady and the ball boys. Everybody is part of the team. They are all part of the team and so they have all got to be the best there is. The best they can be. Because they are all part of the same team. They are all the same. And I tell you this, our great team of the sixties. They were all paid the same money to a penny piece. There was no man who got more than another man. And that’s the way it has to be. That’s the way it must be. The only way …
In the house or in the street. In conversations and in interviews. The journalists nodded and the well-wishers smiled. And they said, Yes, it was twenty years ago today, Bill. Twenty years ago today.
And Bill said, I only wish I could start all over again …
But in the street or in the house. The journalists and the
well-wishes
thanked Bill for his thoughts and for his reminiscences. They thanked Bill for his time. And they said goodbye. Until the next time, the next anniversary. They left Bill alone. In the house or in the street. But Bill never forgot. Bill always remembered. Every hour of every day. Every day of every week. Every week of every month. Every month of every year. Every year and every season. Every season and every match. Every single match. From the first match to the last match. Bill always remembered, Bill never forgot. Bill bore these memories, Bill carried these memories. A great weight Bill bore, a piece of wood Bill carried. A piece of wood which left Bill with splinters, splinters in his back. In his shoulders and in his neck. But splinters which gave Bill faith, splinters which made Bill believe. Believe in the things that had been, once. Believe in the things that could be, again. After the resurrection, before the resurrection –
Bill said, I only wish I could start all over again …
In the winter. Under dark and heavy skies. In the middle of the week, in the middle of the day. In his suit and in his tie. Bill Shankly stood before Anfield. Before the camera. The Italian television camera. The television crew and the interviewer. These men who had come from Rome to find out why English football was now the most successful
football in Europe. These men who had come to ask Bill Shankly why. And in the winter. Under dark and heavy skies. They switched on their camera and they switched on their lights. And the interviewer looked up at the clouds and then back down at Anfield. At the houses around the ground, at the streets around the ground. The boarded-up shops and the paint-splattered walls. An abandoned old car and a smashed-up phone box. The newspapers and the crisp packets blowing across the pavements. Across the broken glass, across the dog shit. And the man from Rome said, This city is like a cemetery. This town is like a ghost town. Twenty per cent of this city’s labour force is unemployed. In the town centre, in the job centre. There were just forty-nine jobs on offer. Everywhere we have been, we have seen derelict buildings. Empty factories. Huge tracts of wasteland. And wilderness. And everyone we have spoken to, everyone talks about closures and redundancies. About British Leyland and Fisher-Bendix, Dunlop and BICC, Plessey and GEC, Lucas and Girling, Courtaulds and Meccano. People don’t seem to know what is happening here. People say there is nothing happening here in this town. Nothing here but the football.
The football is not nothing, said Bill Shankly. His eyes narrow now, his jaw set now. The football is everything! And now more than ever, in times like these. But I do not deny the things you have seen. I do not deny the things you have heard. No, no. But men hear what they want to hear, men see what they want to see. But there are some things some men cannot see, some things some men will never see. Some things some men do not want to see. Hidden things to some men, invisible things to some men. So where you only see empty factories and people on their knees. I still see a beautiful city and a great people. Proud people, passionate people …
And before Anfield. Before the camera. As Bill Shankly spoke. Men stopped to listen. Men and boys. In their coats. Their thin coats. With their scarves. Their red scarves.
And now more than ever, said Bill Shankly. His eyes wide now, his jaw forward now. Now in these times. It is the football that helps to keep them proud, it is the football that helps to keep them passionate. Because there is still an intense and powerful passion for football in this city. An intensity you will find nowhere else except in Glasgow. Because it comes from the heart here. And it flows in the
blood here. In the blood of the people, in the hearts of the people. And what we do on Saturday provides a purpose and a focus for the people. For the working people, for the working man. Because football is the working man’s sport. And so he is the club! The working man is the club. You cannot make a football club without him, without the ordinary working man. Oh no! And you cannot cheat him. Or he’ll find you out. Oh yes! But if he trusts you, if the working man believes in you. Then he will follow you. And he will follow the team. Because he will recognise you are committed to him, the team is committed to him. And he will put all his pride and all his passion into the team. With fervour and with love. In his blood and in his heart.
Under the dark and heavy skies. In his broad-brimmed hat. The interviewer, this man from Rome. He smiled and he said, But perhaps it is only you who thinks like this now, Mr Shankly? Perhaps it is only you who is so passionate about this city. About Liverpool and about football. Perhaps it is only you now, Mr Shankly?
Well, you go back into the city again. With your fancy camera and with your fancy lights. And you talk to the men and women who live here again. But this time you ask them about the passion they feel for this city. The passion they feel for the football in this city. The things they want to be asked about, the things they want to talk about. And then you’ll see. Oh yes. Then you’ll see and then you’ll hear. If you have the ears to listen, if you have the eyes to see. And then you’ll go back to your city, back to Rome. And you’ll always remember the day you came to this city, the day you were in Liverpool. And you will feel lucky, you will feel privileged. Lucky to have walked on these pavements, privileged to have spoken with these people! Real people.
And before Anfield. Before the ground. Bill Shankly stared into the camera. And now Bill Shankly nodded. And then Bill Shankly turned away. Away from the camera, away towards the people. The men and the boys. In their coats. Their thin coats. With their scarves. Their red scarves. And the men and the boys walked towards Bill Shankly. The men and the boys gathered around Bill Shankly. In a group, in a huddle. They patted his back and they shook his hand. And they thrust pieces of paper, scraps of newspaper. Into his hands. For an autograph, for a signature. And one of the men said, You know you are a genius, don’t you? You know you are a genius, Bill?
Are you all going to the match tonight, asked Bill Shankly.
And one of the men said, Of course I am, Bill. I never miss a game. I’ve never missed a match yet, Bill. Never once.
But most of the men shook their heads. And one of the men said, I want to, Bill. Of course I want to go. But I can’t afford to go, Bill. Not to every game, not these days.
I know, son. I know, said Bill Shankly. And I am sorry, son.
And again, one of the men said, But you know you are a genius, don’t you? You know you are a genius, Bill?
Did any of you lads see the first leg, asked Bill Shankly.
And one of the men said, Yes, Bill. I saw it. I was there, Bill. For my sins. What a travesty, Bill! I could not believe it!
I know, son. I know, said Bill Shankly again. And you are right, son. You are absolutely right. I mean, we’ve now played Forest nine times and won only once. It’s unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable! And that was a heavy pitch at the City Ground, a very heavy pitch. But to play like we did, on a pitch like that. And then to concede a penalty, in the last bloody minute, and lose the bloody match. It was a travesty! A bloody travesty! Because I really thought we had learnt our lessons, I really thought we had the measure of them. The way Bob had set them up, the way Bob had set Case up as a watchdog. A watchdog on Robertson. I mean, that was very effective. Very shrewd. It clipped their wings, it cut off their lines of communication, you see? And so Robertson never had a touch, not a bloody touch. Not until the last bloody minute and he steps up and scores a bloody penalty. Unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable! Very unfair, very unjust.
One of the men said, But you think we can still turn it around tonight, Bill? You think we can still beat them, don’t you?
Oh yes, said Bill Shankly. Oh yes. I mean, we had some revenge in the Cup. In the FA Cup, of course. We already got the better of Forest then. And so I think that will have given the players a lot of belief. And of course, it’s always a different game here. Always a very different game at Anfield. The belief of the supporters, the belief of the Kop. You see the players, they can all feel that belief. It’s an incredible feeling. An incredible thing. The way the belief of the Kop, the way it flows from the stands onto the pitch into the players. The way it inspires the players, that belief. Their hope and their
passion. It’s unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable!
In their coats. Their thin coats. With their scarves. Their red scarves. The men and the boys nodded. And one of the men unbuttoned his coat. The man opened up his coat. The man untied the scarf around his neck. The man took off his scarf. And the man touched the tie he was wearing. The Liverpool Football Club tie. Under his coat, under his scarf. And the man said, I am sure you won’t remember, Bill. Because it was ages ago now. Years ago now. So I am sure you don’t remember, Bill. But I had gone to the club shop to buy a tie. But the club shop were sold out of ties. And then I saw you, you in the car park. And I stopped you. And I asked you for your autograph. And we started to chat. And you asked about me, about how I was doing. And I said about the tie in the shop, about there being no ties in the shop. And in the car park. You took off your tie. Your Liverpool Football Club tie. And you gave me your tie. Your Liverpool Football Club tie. And so this is your tie, Bill. The tie you gave me. And I have worn it every day, Bill. Every day since. I never take it off, Bill. Never. So thank you again, Bill. Thank you.
I do remember, said Bill Shankly. And I remember you, son. I remember you very well. But it was the least I could do, son. The very least I could do. To thank you, son. To thank you for supporting Liverpool Football Club. So thank you again, son …
And again, one of the men said, But you know you are a genius, don’t you? You are a genius, Bill?
And now Bill Shankly shook his head. And Bill Shankly put his hand upon the shoulder of this man. And Bill Shankly said, Thank you, son. Thank you. But I am not a genius. I have only ever tried to be an honest man. And to make you proud. And make you happy.