Matt Busby smiled. Matt Busby laughed. And Matt Busby said, Well, it’s no crime to believe in Father Christmas, Bill. I just hope you’ve got a chimney big enough at Anfield …
…
Before the game, the return game against Ajax of Amsterdam. Bill Shankly had told the milkman Liverpool Football Club would beat Ajax of Amsterdam five — nil. Bill Shankly had told the postman Liverpool Football Club would beat Ajax of Amsterdam six — nil. Bill Shankly had told the children in the street Liverpool Football Club would beat Ajax of Amsterdam seven — nil. Bill Shankly had told the newspaper reporters, the local reporters and the national reporters, Liverpool Football Club would beat Ajax of Amsterdam five — nil, six — nil, seven — nil or even eight — nil. Bill Shankly had told everyone he’d met, anyone who’d listen, Liverpool Football Club would beat Ajax of Amsterdam five — nil, six — nil, seven — nil or even eight — nil. And in the dressing room, their Anfield dressing room. Bill Shankly told Tommy Lawrence, Chris Lawler, Gordon Milne, Tommy Smith, Ron Yeats, Willie Stevenson, Ian Callaghan, Roger Hunt, Ian St John, Geoff Strong and Peter Thompson the same thing. The very same thing –
Eight — nil, said Bill Shankly. Because I know you can, I know we can. Because the people here tonight, the fifty-five thousand people here tonight. They know you can, they believe you can –
And they believe you will, boys!
On Wednesday 14 December, 1966, there was no fog at Anfield, Liverpool. But there was mist and there was steam. The mist from the Mersey, the steam from the stands. The stands aglow, the Spion Kop on fire. A cauldron of passions, a furnace of emotions. Exploding and roaring. LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL, LI–VER-POOL. The Spion Kop swaying, the Spion Kop surging. On fire and aglow. In the mist and in the steam. In the push and in the crush. One hundred folk were treated by the ambulance services at Anfield. Thirty folk were taken to hospital. And in the push and in the crush. In the mist and in the steam. In this cauldron, in this furnace. In the fourth minute, Thompson crashed a shot against the crossbar. In the next fifteen minutes, Ajax of Amsterdam hit the post twice. And in the first half, Liverpool Football Club had a goal disallowed. But then in the fiftieth minute, Keizer threaded the ball through to Nuninga, Nuninga threaded the ball through to Cruyff. Cruyff flying, Cruyff gliding. With a final touch, the briefest of touches. The ball in the net, the ball a goal. Ten minutes later, St John found Hunt. And Hunt found the net. And a goal. But in the seventieth minute, Keizer again threaded the ball through to Nuninga, Nuninga again threaded the ball through to Cruyff. Cruyff not flying, Cruyff not gliding. Cruyff dancing now, Cruyff waltzing now. With a final stroke, the briefest of strokes. The ball in the net again, the ball a goal again. In the eighty-eighth minute, Thompson passed to St John. St John passed to Hunt. And Hunt scored again. And on the night, Liverpool Football Club drew two-all with Amsterdamsche Football Club Ajax NV. But in the tie, Liverpool Football Club had lost seven — three to Amsterdamsche Football Club Ajax NV. And Amsterdamsche Football Club Ajax NV had knocked Liverpool Football Club out of the European Cup –
Out of Europe and out of the Cup –
Out, out. Out, out –
That night, eight clubs went through to the quarter-finals of the European Cup. The Celtic Football Club of Scotland. CSKA Red Flag of Bulgaria. Dukla Prague of Czechoslovakia. Fudbalski klub Vojvodina of Yugoslavia. Internazionale of Italy. Linfield Football Club of Northern Ireland. Real Madrid of Spain. And Amsterdamsche Football Club Ajax NV of Holland. But not Liverpool Football Club of England. No Liverpool, no England. Not tonight, not now –
After the whistle, that final, final whistle. In the corridors and the tunnels, the Anfield corridors and the Anfield tunnels. Bill Shankly raged and Bill Shankly ranted. Against defensive football, against negative football. Against European football, against foreign football. And against luck. Against the luck of the Dutch. But in the corridors and in the tunnels, the Anfield corridors and the Anfield tunnels. No one was listening to Bill Shankly. In the corridors,
in the tunnels. No one was there.
No one but Bill.
24. THE MORTAL AND THE IMMORTAL
In the drive, in the car. Bill switched off the headlights. In the night, in the mist. Bill switched on the headlights. In the drive, in the car. On and then off, off and then on. In the night and in the mist. Bill could not forget Amsterdam. In the drive, in the car. Bill could not forget Ajax. The headlights off, the headlights on. Bill knew Ajax of Amsterdam were one of the best sides he had ever seen play. In the night and in the mist. Bill knew Ajax of Amsterdam were going to be one of the best teams in Europe. The headlights off, the headlights on. Bill knew Ajax of Amsterdam had played a type of football he had never seen before. In the drive, in the car. Bill knew it was not defensive football, Bill knew it was not negative football. And Bill knew it was not lucky football. In the night and in the mist. Bill knew it was simple football, Bill knew it was team football. On and off, off and on. Simple team football, total team football. In the drive, in the car. The type of football Bill had seen in his dreams. In the night and in the mist. Bill switched off the headlights. In the drive, in the car. Bill closed his eyes. In the night and in the mist.
In his dreams, only in his dreams.
…
In the house, in their front room. Bill had shaved. Bill had washed. And Bill had dressed. Bill had eaten his breakfast. Bill had drunk his tea. And Bill had read the newspaper. In the front room, in his chair. Bill looked at his watch. It was seven o’clock. Bill took out his address book. Bill went out into the hall. Bill opened his address book. Bill picked up the telephone. Bill dialled the number. The number of a guest house in Blackpool. Bill listened to the phone ring. And ring and ring. Bill heard the landlady answer. Bill asked to speak to Emlyn. Bill waited for the landlady to fetch Emlyn. Bill heard Emlyn stammer. Bill heard Emlyn stutter. Bill heard Emlyn say –
Hello, Mr Shankly? Hello, sir? Good morning, Mr Shankly. Good morning, sir. How are you, Mr Shankly? How are you, sir?
And Bill said, I’m very well. Thank you, son. But I’m always very well, son. So how are you, son? How are you today? I know you are having a tough season, son. I know it must not be easy for you. Your first season, son. The season Blackpool are having. With Ron Suart resigning and Stan Mortensen coming in. But I want you to know I am watching you, son. I haven’t forgotten you. So you bide your time, son. And soon you’ll be with us. With Liverpool Football Club, son. The greatest football club there is. So I want you to look after yourself, son. I want you to take good care of yourself …
Thank you, Mr Shankly, said Emlyn Hughes. Thank you, sir. And I am looking after myself, Mr Shankly. I am taking good care of myself, sir. Thank you, Mr Shankly …
That’s what I want to hear, son. That’s what I want to hear. And so what are you doing, son? What are you doing now?
Well, I’m having my breakfast, sir, said Emlyn Hughes.
That’s good, son. That’s very good. It’s the most important meal of the day, son. Your breakfast. You don’t want to be missing your breakfast. Good boy. Good lad.
I never do, sir, said Emlyn Hughes. I never miss my breakfast.
And so what do you eat, son? What are you eating for your breakfast today then?
Well, laughed Emlyn Hughes. I’m eating the Mrs Williams Special. The special Mrs Williams always makes us. Fried egg, bacon and some black pudding. Her full English special, sir …