Bill stepped back. In their hotel, in the dining room. Bill looked for the ball again, Bill saw the ball again. Bill struck it again. And Bill said, And the other like that, in from close range …
Bill sat back down at the table. And Bill said, And Tommy was playing on the left that day. That was the first time they’d found a way to play Tommy and Matthews in the same side. Tommy says the Italians didn’t know what had hit them. That they started arguing amongst themselves. Because they weren’t used to losing, you see. Seven of them played for that Torino side that won all those consecutive titles. You all remember them. That side that were killed in the air crash a year later. Terrible, terrible. But can you imagine that forward line? Matthews, Mortensen, Lawton, Mannion and Tommy. Jesus Christ! What a team that was, what a game that must have been. Like a different game, in a different world. It’s all back to front and inside out now. Now it’s the defenders who score the goals. Not the forwards. That’s the new game, that’s the new world. It’s a game for defenders now. That’s the secret, boys. And that’s what we’ll be up against tomorrow. A team of defenders.
…
In the dressing room, the Anfield dressing room. Before the whistle, the first whistle of the return leg. Bill shook his head again. And Bill said, One goal. That’s all they got. One goal. And from their full-back. One goal. And we all know that’s all they wanted. One goal. And that’s all they got. That one goal. That’s all they wanted and that’s all they’ve got. One goal. And so they’ve come here today. With that goal, that one goal. Determined to hang onto that goal, that one goal. To keep that goal, that one goal. And to take that goal, that one goal. In their suitcases, their fancy suitcases. Back to Turin, back to Italy. With their goal, their one goal. That’s their plan, their only plan. But they’re in for a surprise, boys. They’re in for a shock. Because how many folk do you think there were? Last week, in Turin? Five thousand, ten thousand? Nobody. There was nobody there! Not like today, not like tonight. Tonight there are fifty thousand folk here! Fifty thousand folk inside Anfield tonight. Fifty thousand folk here to watch you prise open their fancy, flash suitcases, their grubby, little hands. Fifty thousand folk here to watch you take that one goal from Juventus Football Club and to send them packing back to Turin, back to Italy. With nothing in their cases, with nothing in their hands …
On the bench, the Anfild bench. Among the banners, among the songs. The red banners and the red songs. Bill watched a sea of incessant movement, Bill watched a world of strong meat. The red movement, the red meat. The free kick by Stevenson out on the left. The free kick finding Strong. Strong streaking in from the right, Strong out-leaping the whole field. Heading the ball square to Lawler. A defender to a defender. Coming in fast to dive forward, diving forward to the ball. Into the net, into a goal. In a sea of incessant movement, in a world of strong meat. Red movement, red meat. The lazy back-heel from Del Sol. Lawler robbing Del Sol, Lawler feeding Callaghan. Callaghan crossing, St John rising. The ball coming loose, the ball coming back. Back out to Strong. A defender at the edge of their penalty area, a defender with a rocket for a shot. Into the net, into a goal. In a sea of incessant movement, in a world of strong meat. The red movement and the red meat. Among the banners, among the songs. The red banners and the red songs. Juventus Football Club had nothing to hold onto, nothing to protect. Juventus Football Club had been beaten from the back, beaten by two goals from two defenders. Juventus Football Club had been beaten at their own game. Liverpool Football Club had learnt their lesson. And Liverpool Football Club had taught Juventus Football Club a lesson –
The pupil now the master.
…
Under the stands, among the boots. Bill, Bob, Reuben, Joe and Albert each had a piece of paper in their hands. On the piece of paper was a list, a list of names: Alf Arrowsmith, John Bennett, Phil Chisnall, Roy Evans, Bobby Graham, Brian Hall, Alan Hignett, Geoff Long, Thomas Lowry, Ted McDougall, Grant McCulloch, Kevin Marsh, William Molyneux, Ronnie Moran, John Ogston, Steve Peplow, Ian Ross, John Sealey, Ken Walker and Gordon Wallace. The names of players, the players in the Liverpool Football Club reserve team –
Bill saw the reserves play as often as he could. Bill had seen the reserves play seven times this season. But Bill had not seen the reserves play since Monday 20 September, when the reserves had drawn three-all with Wolverhampton Wanderers reserves –
Under the stands, among the boots. Bill, Bob, Reuben, Joe and Albert discussed each player in the reserve team. Their strong points and their weak points. Bill, Bob, Joe, Reuben and Albert discussed every game the reserve team had played. The good points and the bad points. The reserve team had played seventeen matches this season. They had won six games and they had drawn six games. And they had lost five. They had scored twenty-eight goals and they had conceded twenty-one goals. Phil Chisnall was the leading scorer in the reserve team with five goals. Bill put down the piece of paper. And Bill said, How about Ronnie Moran? How’s Ronnie doing?
He’s doing very well, said Joe. Training as hard as ever, playing as well as ever. And he’s helping the younger lads, too. With a word here and with a word there. Showing them how it’s done, showing them what it takes, Boss. Helping them, teaching them.
Bill smiled. And Bill said, That’s good to hear, Joe. That’s great to hear. It’s what I hoped you’d say, what I thought you’d say. But you never know, you can never tell. It’s a terrible thing when you have to step down, down from the first team. We all know it is. We’ve all been there. There’s nothing worse in football. Nothing worse in life. The feeling your best days are behind you, the knowledge you’re on the way down. On the way down and on the way out. To the knacker’s yard, to the glue factory. I wouldn’t wish it on any man, not on any man. That feeling, that knowledge. But it comes to us all, it comes to us all. In the end, Joe. In the end.
…
Down the corridor, the Anfield corridor. Bill tapped on the office door. The office door of the club secretary. Bill opened the door. Bill saw the bags of mail standing on the floor. The bags and bags of mail. Bill glanced at the corner of the office. The corner where a camp bed had once stood. No camp bed in the corner now. Only more bags of mail. More bags and bags of mail. Bill looked at the desk. Bill saw the stacks of letters on the desk. The stacks and stacks of letters. And Bill saw the new club secretary sat behind the desk. Among the letters. The stacks and stacks of letters. Bill smiled at Peter Robinson. And Bill said, It’s getting late, Peter. You should get off home. Home to your family. And leave all that for tomorrow …
Peter Robinson looked up from his typewriter. From the stacks and stacks of letters. And Peter Robinson smiled –
I will, said Peter Robinson. I will soon, Bill. I’ll just finish off these last few letters and then I’ll be off.
Bill said, That’s good, Peter. Are there any letters for me?
Only two, said Peter Robinson. Only two.
Then let me have them, Peter. And I’ll get them done now.
Peter Robinson pointed at two bags of mail. Two big bags of mail in the corner. In the corner where a camp bed had once stood. And Peter Robinson laughed –
Only two bags, said Peter Robinson. Those two bags over there.
Bill laughed. Bill went over to the corner. The corner where a camp bed had once stood. And Bill picked up the two bags. The two big bags of mail. Bill carried the bags over to the door. Bill turned back to Peter Robinson. Bill smiled. And Bill said, Jesus Christ. These are heavy bags. I best be making a start on them now. But you make sure you get off home soon, Peter. You promise me you won’t stay all night now. Promise me you’ll go home soon, Peter …