And I’ll be here on Monday to meet the players when they report back for training. And if the new man wants any help from me while he is settling in, I’ll be glad to give it. But if he doesn’t, I’ll go straight away. It will be a clean break. It will be a complete break with Liverpool Football Club. When a new man comes in, I will be out.
But I’ll still come to watch Liverpool and, when I do, I’ll probably go into the Kop. Onto the Spion Kop …
In the lounge, the VIP lounge at Anfield. There was silence, still silence, still only silence. Until finally, finally, someone asked, Do you not fancy being a director, Bill? Are you moving upstairs?
No, said Bill Shankly. Not even if they paid me.
So how would you sum up your career, Bill?
Well, I think I was the best manager in the game and I should have won more. Yeah. But I didn’t do anything in devious ways. I mean, I would fight with you. And I would break my wife’s leg if I played against her. But I wouldn’t cheat her. I wouldn’t cheat anyone.
But what about regrets then, Bill. Any regrets?
Aye. Just one. Aye. Not winning the European Cup. But it’s not about me. About the past. And about regrets. It’s about the club. About Liverpool Football Club. And the future. The future of Liverpool Football Club. Not about the man who is going. But about the men who are coming in. And there’s no doubt Ray Kennedy will do a good job for Liverpool Football Club. He is big, brave and strong. And his signing means that we now have the greatest strength in depth that we have ever had. We are so strong that you need to have a couple of international caps just to get into the reserve team. And I know Kennedy will cause plenty of trouble to defences. He fights all the way. And so he was at the very top of my list of wanted men –
So it’s been a momentous day. Yes. But his signing shows that I’m not running away. And maybe it will be said that one of the last things I did at this club was to sign a great new player …
Bill Shankly stood up now. His suit too big, his tie too tight. The shadows around his eyes darkened, the lines on his face deepened. Bill Shankly looked at the gentlemen of the press. His eyes wet, his breath short. Bill Shankly nodded. And Bill Shankly smiled –
There’ll not be many days like this, boys.
And then Bill Shankly was gone.
50. FOR PROMIS’D JOY!
In the house, in their bed. Bill opened his eyes. Bill closed his eyes. And then Bill opened his eyes again. In the dark and in the silence. Bill stared up at the ceiling. The bedroom ceiling. And Bill breathed out. Bill had been dreaming. Only dreaming. In the dark and in the silence. Bill turned to look at the clock on the table beside the bed. The alarm clock. Ticking, ticking. In the dark. Bill got out of bed. Bill shaved and Bill washed. Bill put on his shirt. Bill put on his suit. Bill put on his tie. His red tie. His Liverpool Football Club tie. Bill went down the stairs. Bill went into the kitchen. In the light and in the silence. Bill saw the cloth on the table. The cutlery and the crockery. The salt and pepper pots. The jars of honey and marmalade. The butter dish. The two glasses of fresh orange juice. And Bill smiled. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill and Ness ate breakfast. A slice of toast and honey, a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. And then Bill helped Ness clear away the breakfast things. Bill dried up the breakfast things. Bill helped Ness put away the breakfast things. And then Bill kissed Ness on her cheek. Bill went into the hall. Bill put on his hat. Bill went out of the front door. Bill went down the drive. Bill got into the car –
And Bill went off to work.
Bill drove down the West Derby Road. And Bill saw people going into the newsagents. Buying their morning paper. Bill turned onto Belmont Road. And Bill saw people queuing at the bus stops. On their way to work. Bill turned into the car park at Anfield Road. And Bill saw the dustbin men and the postmen. Working. And Bill smiled. Bill got out of the car. Bill walked across the car park. Bill went into the ground. And into work.
Bill went down the corridor. Bill went up the stairs. Bill went into his office. Bill took off his hat. Bill hung up his hat. Bill walked around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill sat down behind his desk. Bill looked around his office. The filing cabinets and the shelves. The shelves of books. The books of names and the books of notes. The bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. And Bill smiled. Bill reached into the first bag of mail on top of the mountain of bags and bags of mail. Bill took out a letter. Bill opened the letter. Bill read the letter. The letter of congratulations on winning the Cup. The letter of thanks for winning the Cup. And Bill smiled again. Bill put down the letter. Bill opened the top drawer of his desk. Bill took out a piece of paper. Bill closed the top drawer of his desk. Bill threaded the piece of paper into his typewriter. Bill turned the platen knob. And Bill began to type –
Bill began to work.
There were footsteps in the corridor now. There was a knock upon the door now. And Bill stopped typing. Bill looked up. And Bill saw Bob. Bob was standing in the doorway. Bill smiled at Bob. And Bill said, Morning, Bob. How are you today, Bob? You look a wee bit pale, Bob. Like you’ve seen a ghost, Bob. Are you all right, Bob?
Well, said Bob. I suppose I’m still in a state of shock.
Why, Bob? What’s happened? What’s wrong, Bob?
You, said Bob. Resigning. I had no idea. No idea at all.
Oh, that. Yes, well. I’ve made a decision, Bob. I’ve talked it over with Ness. And we both feel I need a rest. I mean, I’m still fit enough. I’m not ill. Don’t worry. I’m fit, but I’m tired. And so I need a rest. I need to recharge my batteries. That’s all, Bob.
But surely then there’s no need for you to resign, said Bob. To call it a day. Have you not considered just having a bit of a break? Perhaps a cruise with Ness? Get your feet up for a bit. See the world. I could look after the shop for you. Keep things ticking over. You wouldn’t have to worry. I’d keep things just the way they are. And then you could come back. Your batteries recharged, as you say. And things could go on. Just as they were. Just as they are.
No, Bob. No. I’ve made my decision. And I’m sticking to it. If you can’t make decisions in this game. If you can’t make decisions in life. Then you’re a bloody menace, Bob. A bloody menace. You’re better to go and be an MP or something.
Please, said Bob. Don’t make me beg you, Bill. Please. Don’t make me go down on my knees, Bill. But if that’s what it’ll take to make you change your mind. Then that’s what I’ll do, Bill.
No, Bob. No. I’ve said I’m retiring. And so that’s what I’m going to do. I mean, I don’t agree with the word. I hate the word! It’s the stupidest word I’ve ever heard in all my life. It should be stricken from the record, retirement. Nobody can retire! You retire when you get the coffin. And they nail down the lid. And your name is on the top. That’s retirement! No, Bob. No. But I’ve said I’m retiring from Liverpool Football Club. From Anfield. And so that is what I’m going to do. But not from football, Bob. Not from life. No.
But what about today, asked Bob. The training? The preseason? What are we going to do, Bill?
Bill laughed. And Bill said, Same as we always do, Bob. I’m still here. Nothing’s changed, Bob. I’ll be down in a minute.
Bob stared at Bill. At his desk, at his typewriter. And Bob shook his head. And Bob smiled –
Well, if you say so, Bill. Then I’ll see you downstairs. In a minute then, Bill. Downstairs …
Bill nodded. And Bill looked back down at his desk. At his typewriter, the unfinished letter. And Bill began to type again. To finish the letter, to finish his work. And then Bill looked at his watch. Bill got up from his desk. Bill picked up his bag from the floor. His kit bag. Bill walked around the bags of mail. The mountain of bags and bags of mail. And Bill went out of his office. Bill went down the corridor. Bill went down the stairs. Bill went into the changing rooms. Bill put down his bag on the bench. His kit bag. Bill took off his tie. His red tie. His Liverpool Football Club tie. And Bill took off his shoes. His suit. And his shirt. Bill put on his tracksuit bottoms. His sweater. And his boots. Bill went out of the dressing room. Bill went down the corridor. Bill went out of the ground. Into the sunlight. And Bill stood in the car park at Anfield, Liverpool. Ready for training,