In the winter-time. In the ice and in the snow. On Wednesday 10 March, 1965, Leicester City came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, fifty-three thousand, three hundred and twenty-four folk came, too. Fifty-three thousand, three hundred and twenty-four folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Leicester City in the Sixth Round replay of the FA Cup. For a place in the semi-final, in the semi-final of the FA Cup. The Cup that Liverpool Football Club had never won, the Cup that some folk said was cursed. Jinxed. That some folk said Liverpool Football Club would never win. In the seventy-second minute, Chris Lawler took a free kick. Lawler found Ron Yeats. Yeats found Roger Hunt. And Hunt found the net. And Liverpool Football Club beat Leicester City one — nil. At home, at Anfield. One week after that, FC Cologne came to Anfield, Liverpool. Forty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-two folk came, too. Forty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-two folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play FC Cologne in the second leg of the Second Round of the European Cup. Another cup Liverpool Football Club had never won, a tournament Liverpool Football Club had never played in before. But Liverpool Football Club drew nil — nil with FC Cologne. Again. Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne would have to play another game, another match. On neutral ground, on foreign soil –
On Wednesday 24 March, 1965, Liverpool Football Club travelled to the Stadion Feyenoord in Rotterdam, Holland. Fifty-odd thousand folk came, too. Fifty-odd thousand mainly German folk. In the twenty-second minute, Ian St John scored. In the thirty-seventh, Roger Hunt scored. But then Thielen scored for FC Cologne. And then Loehr scored for FC Cologne. And after ninety minutes of this match, after two hundred and seventy minutes of this tie, Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne were still drawing. And after extra time, after one hundred and twenty minutes of this match, after three hundred minutes of this tie, Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne were still drawing. Still tied. And so after three hundred minutes, after the final whistle. The captain of Liverpool Football Club walked to the centre of the field, the centre circle. And the captain of FC Cologne walked to the centre of the field, the centre circle. Reporters followed them, photographers followed them. The captains stood in the centre of the field, in the centre circle. The referee took a chip from his pocket. A gambler’s chip. One side red, one side white. The referee asked Ron Yeats which side of the chip he wanted. And Ron Yeats said red. He wanted the red side. The referee said he would now throw the chip in the air. Into the night, into the dark. And then the chip would fall onto the ground, into the mud. If it landed red-side up, Liverpool Football Club would be in the semi-final of the European Cup. If it landed white-side up, FC Cologne would be in the semi-final of the European Cup. In the centre of the field, in the centre circle, the referee flicked the chip into the air. Into the night, into the dark. The lights of the cameras flashed. On their benches, the players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne blinked. In the lights. The players, the officials and the staff followed the chip. Into the night, into the dark. Up and then down. Down onto the ground, down into the mud. The captains stared down at the ground, down at the mud. Down at the chip, the gambler’s chip. In the ground, in the mud. On its side. The chip had landed on its side. The gambler’s chip. Stuck in the mud, on its side. The referee bent down. The referee picked up the chip. The gambler’s chip. The referee wiped the chip. The gambler’s chip. The referee flicked the chip back into the air. Into the night, into the dark. The lights flashed again. Again, on their benches, the players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club and FC Cologne blinked. In the lights. Again, the players, the officials and the staff followed the chip. Into the night, into the dark. Up and then down. Down onto the ground, down into the mud. The captains stared down at the ground, down at the mud. And Ron Yeats leapt up. Up into the night, up
into the lights. In
red, all in red.
The players, the officials and the staff of Liverpool Football Club ran towards the centre of the field, towards the centre circle, towards Ron Yeats. Ron Yeats –
his arms raised,
raised in
red, all in red. But Bill Shankly did not run to the centre of the pitch, to the centre circle. Bill Shankly got up from the bench. Slowly. Bill Shankly walked down the touchline to the coach of FC Cologne. Bill Shankly shook his head, Bill Shankly stuck out his hand –
That’s no way to settle a game, said Bill Shankly. No way to win a match. Not on the toss of a coin. Not for your team. I have to be honest, tonight you were the better team, sir.
…
Three days after Liverpool Football Club had knocked FC Cologne out of the European Cup on the toss of a coin. Three days after Liverpool Football Club had played one hundred and twenty minutes of football, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Villa Park, Birmingham. That afternoon, sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk came, too. Liverpool folk and London folk. Sixty-seven thousand, six hundred and eighty-six folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Chelsea Football Club in the semi-final of the FA Cup –
Before the whistle, the first whistle. In the dressing room, the Liverpool dressing room at Villa Park, Birmingham. Bill Shankly took a brochure from his pocket. A brochure for the FA Cup Final. A brochure printed by Chelsea Football Club. Bill Shankly held up the brochure. The Chelsea Cup Final brochure. Bill Shankly made sure every player, every player of Liverpool Football Club, could see this brochure, this Chelsea Cup Final brochure –
That mob from London think they have already won this game, said Bill Shankly. Already won this match. That mob think we are drained, that mob think we are exhausted. Already beaten. They think they have won the game, they think they have won the match. That mob think they are already in the final. Already at Wembley. Because that London mob are arrogant, because that London mob are ignorant. But that London mob know nothing. Nothing about Liverpool Football Club! Because we are never drained, we are never exhausted. Not you boys and not our supporters. Never! And so Liverpool Football Club are never beaten. Never beaten!
On Saturday 27 March, 1965, at Villa Park, Birmingham, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not drained. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club were not exhausted. They sang and they roared. And out on the pitch, the players of Liverpool Football Club heard their songs, they heard their roars. And the players of Liverpool Football Club were no longer drained, no longer exhausted. Neither mentally nor physically. The players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. The players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. The players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And the players of Chelsea Football Club could only stand and watch. They watched and they waited. They waited for the players of Liverpool Football Club to run themselves into the ground. Into the pitch. To lie prostrate upon the pitch. Drained and exhausted, exhausted and beaten. But still the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For ten minutes. For twenty minutes. For thirty minutes. For forty minutes. For fifty minutes. Still the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And after sixty minutes, Stevenson found Thompson with a long cross-field pass. Thompson dummied Hinton and Murray. Thompson cut between Hinton and Murray. In a flash, in the space, Thompson shot. And Thompson scored. And the supporters of Liverpool Football Club cheered, the supporters of Liverpool Football Club roared. And again the players of Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked and attacked. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club defended and defended and defended. For seventy minutes. Again the players of Liverpool Football Club ran and ran and ran. And just before the eightieth minute, Harris upended St John in the Chelsea penalty area. The referee blew his whistle. The referee pointed to the penalty spot. Stevenson grabbed the ball. Stevenson placed the ball on the penalty spot. Stevenson stepped back. Stevenson stepped up. Stevenson shot. And Stevenson scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club two — nil. The players of Liverpool Football Club not drained, the players of Liverpool Football Club not exhausted. They were jubilant and they were triumphant. And never beaten. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club sang, Ee-aye-addio, we’re going to win the Cup …