In the tunnel, the Goodison tunnel. After the game, after the parade. Joe Mercer shook Bill’s hand. Joe Mercer had played for Everton Football Club. Joe Mercer had played for Arsenal Football Club. Joe Mercer had managed Sheffield United. Joe Mercer had managed Aston Villa. Now Joe Mercer was the manager of Manchester City Football Club –
For the first time in years, said Joe Mercer, I have seen a team, I have seen a side which I wasn’t good enough to play in, Bill …
Bill smiled again. And Bill said, Don’t say that, Joe. Please never say that. But thank you, Joe. Thank you. And you know I’m not a man for fortune-telling, Joe. Not a man for predictions. But I cannot believe there is a side that can come close to this Liverpool side, Joe. I cannot see another team who can touch this Liverpool team. Not in England and not in Europe. Not this season, Joe. Not this season.
…
In his office, at his desk. Bill read the letters. The hundreds of letters, the hundreds of signatures. Bill studied the petitions. The hundreds of petitions, the thousands of signatures. Bill picked up the bags of letters. Bill gathered up the piles of petitions. Bill walked up the stairs, the Anfield stairs. Bill knocked on the door of the boardroom, the Anfield boardroom. And Bill waited.
Come, said the voice.
Bill opened the door. Bill stepped inside the room.
Have a seat, Mr Shankly, said the directors of Liverpool Football Club. Please have a seat.
Bill walked to the end of the long table. With his bags of letters, with his piles of petitions. Bill did not sit down in a chair at the end of the long table. Bill looked up the long table at the directors of Liverpool Football Club. And Bill waited.
Now what can we do for you today, Mr Shankly?
Bill picked up the bags of letters. Bill emptied the bags of letters onto the long table. The hundreds of letters. Bill picked up the petitions. Bill threw the petitions down onto the long table. The thousands of signatures. And Bill said, You can read these letters. You can count these signatures. That’s what you can do for me today.
The directors of Liverpool Football Club stared down at the letters. The hundreds of letters. The directors of Liverpool Football Club stared down at the petitions. The thousands of signatures. And the directors of Liverpool Football Club shook their heads –
We have made our decision, Mr Shankly.
Bill picked up one of the petitions from the long table. And Bill said, This is a petition from the workers at the Ford car factory in Halewood. This is a petition signed by over ten thousand workers at the Ford car factory. This is a petition that demands you reconsider the ban on television cameras inside Anfield. A petition that says if you do not reconsider the ban on television coverage, then these ten thousand workers will boycott all Liverpool matches. A petition that shows how strongly folk feel about this ban.
The directors of Liverpool Football Club looked down the long table, across the letters, across the petitions. And the directors of Liverpool Football Club shook their heads again –
You know our reasons, Mr Shankly. The reasons behind our decision to ban television cameras from the ground. We are worried about attendances. We are worried about gate receipts. Very worried.
Bill shook his head. And Bill said, But almost every game we play is sold out. The gates are often locked hours before kick-off. Had we the room, had we the space, we could have double the crowd, sell double the tickets. If we had the room, if we had the space.
But we haven’t the room, we haven’t the space, said the directors of Liverpool Football Club. So we cannot have double the crowd. And so we cannot sell double the tickets.
Bill said, But I have said it before. I’ve told you before. A hundred times before, a thousand times before. We could build a new stadium. A bigger stadium. A stadium for the future. For all the people. So all the people can watch Liverpool Football Club. Not just the people of Liverpool, not just the people of Merseyside. If people see Liverpool Football Club, the supporters we have, the players we have, then people will want to come to Liverpool Football Club. From all over the country, from all over the world. To support Liverpool Football Club, to be part of Liverpool Football Club. But for that to happen, for that to be reality, then people need to be able to see Liverpool Football Club. On television. Then people will see what a team we are, what a club we are. And then the people will come. From all across the country, from all corners of the world. They will come to Liverpool, they’ll come to Anfield –
From near and from far.
…
Again. The aeroplane shuddered. This season, this new season, Liverpool Football Club had played eleven games. They had won five of those games and they had drawn four of those games. And they had lost two of those games. Again. The aeroplane dipped. Liverpool Football Club were seventh in the First Division. Shuddering and dipping. Again. Bill gripped the armrests of his seat. And again. Bill closed his eyes. Bill hated aeroplanes, Bill hated travelling. But Bill had to fly, Bill had to travel. If Bill wanted to win the European Cup. Bill had to fly, Bill had to travel. And Bill wanted to win the European Cup. More than anything else. Bill wanted to win the one cup that no British team had ever won before. More than anything. The one cup no British manager had ever won before. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. Bill felt the aeroplane begin to descend. And Bill smiled. Two weeks ago, Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti of Romania had come to Anfield, Liverpool. That night, forty-four thousand, four hundred and sixty-three folk had come, too. Under a cold harvest moon, in a thin veil of mist. Liverpool Football Club were all in red, Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti all in yellow. A field of tulips and a field of daffodils. Under a cold harvest moon and under the Anfield floodlights. Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti had never played under floodlights before. Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti had never played at Anfield before. And under the Anfield floodlights. Under the cold harvest moon, in the thin veil of mist. Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti had massed nine men on the edge of their own penalty area. And Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti had defended and defended and defended. But Liverpool Football Club had attacked and attacked and attacked. Under the cold harvest moon, in the thin veil of mist. For ten minutes, for twenty minutes. For thirty minutes, for forty minutes. For fifty minutes, for sixty minutes. And under the cold harvest moon, in the thin veil of mist. In the seventy-first minute, out on the left, Willie Stevenson had hoisted a long, diagonal cross. Ian St John had risen to the ball. St John had headed the ball. And St John had scored. Under a cold harvest moon, in a thin veil of mist. In the eightieth minute, Bobby Graham’s centre had been diverted by Dragomar to Ian Callaghan. Callaghan had struck the ball on the volley. With his right foot, in off the far post. Callaghan had scored. And under that cold harvest moon, in that thin veil of mist. Liverpool Football Club had beaten Fotbal Club Petrolul Ploieşti of Romania two — nil in the first leg of the First Round of the European Cup. The home leg, the Anfield leg. On the plane, in his seat. Bill heard the aeroplane lowering its wheels. Bill heard the wheels touching the ground. And Bill opened his eyes. Again. Bill released his grip. A little.