On Boxing Day, 1968, Burnley Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty-two thousand, five hundred and fifteen folk came, too. In the forty-third minute, Chris Lawler scored. But Burnley Football Club scored, too. And Liverpool Football Club drew one-all with Burnley Football Club. At home,
at Anfield. Nine days later, Doncaster Rovers came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-eight thousand, three hundred and thirty-three folk came, too. Forty-eight thousand, three hundred and thirty-three folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Doncaster Rovers of the Fourth Division in the Third Round of the FA Cup. In the seventieth minute, Roger Hunt scored. In the eighty-fourth minute, Ian Callaghan scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Doncaster Rovers of the Fourth Division two — nil in the Third Round of the FA Cup. At home,
at Anfield. One week afterwards, West Bromwich Albion came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-seven thousand, five hundred and eighty-seven folk came, too. In the eighty-third minute, Peter Thompson scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat West Bromwich Albion one — nil. At home, at Anfield. That evening, Everton Football Club had thirty-seven points and Arsenal Football Club had thirty-seven points, too. That evening, Leeds United had thirty-nine points and Liverpool Football Club had forty-one points. That evening, Liverpool Football Club were still first in the First Division.
On Saturday 18 January, 1969, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Stamford Bridge, London. Bill Shankly did not like London. Bill Shankly hated London. Bill Shankly walked into the dressing room. The away dressing room. Bill Shankly looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. From player to player. From Lawrence to Lawler, Lawler to Strong, Strong to Smith, Smith to Yeats, Yeats to Hughes, Hughes to Callaghan, Callaghan to Hunt, Hunt to Evans, Evans to St John and from St John to Thompson. And Bill Shankly shook his head –
People tell me Liverpool Football Club have not won a League match in London since December, 1966. People tell me Liverpool Football Club cannot win a League match in London. So people tell me Liverpool Football Club cannot win the League. That Liverpool Football Club are not good enough to win the League. Because Liverpool Football Club cannot win a match in London. But I tell those people that is rubbish. Utter rubbish, boys. I tell those people Liverpool Football Club were robbed by the rain at Arsenal back in August. I tell those people Liverpool Football Club were robbed by the referee at Tottenham in October. I tell those people Liverpool Football Club will win the League. Because I tell those people Liverpool Football Club will not lose again in London. That Liverpool Football Club will win every game in London from now on. And win the League. So don’t you contradict me today, boys. Don’t you make me look a liar to those people. Those ignorant people, boys. Those ignorant London people …
After the whistle, the first whistle. In the swirling, London wind. Just before half-time, Ian Callaghan scored. But the goal was disallowed. Alun Evans offside. But in the swirling, London wind. In the sixty-fifth minute, Hughes of Chelsea dropped a shot from Peter Thompson of Liverpool. And Roger Hunt of Liverpool pounced on the loose ball. And Hunt of Liverpool stabbed at the loose ball. And Hunt of Liverpool scored. His two hundred and thirty-fourth League goal for Liverpool Football Club. Roger Hunt had beaten the club record set by Gordon Hodgson. And in the swirling, London wind. In the seventy-second minute, Hunt broke free. Hunt passed to Thompson. Thompson crossed. And Evans scored. But in the swirling, London wind. Now Chelsea Football Club woke up. And Tambling scored. In the swirling, London wind. Webb shot. But Ron Yeats cleared the ball off the goal line. And in the swirling, London wind. Liverpool Football Club beat Chelsea Football Club two — one. Away from home, away from Anfield. In the swirling, London wind. Liverpool Football Club had won in London for the first time since December, 1966.
After the whistle, the final whistle. Bill Shankly took his hat off the back of the door of the away dressing room at Stamford Bridge. Bill Shankly put on his hat. Bill Shankly pulled the brim of his hat down low. And Bill Shankly stepped out of the away dressing room. In the corridor at Stamford Bridge, the gentlemen of the London sporting press were waiting for Bill Shankly. And Bill Shankly was waiting for them. Bill Shankly ready for them. His jaw jutting, his finger jabbing. His eyes darting and his mouth moving –
Who can catch Liverpool Football Club now? Who will stop us now, gentlemen? You mark my words. Liverpool Football Club will be Champions. We will be Champions again, gentlemen. Because no one can catch Liverpool Football Club now. No one can stop us now. You mark my words, gentlemen. And so you come back to me in May and then you’ll see. Then you’ll see. Because I’m never wrong, gentlemen. I’m never wrong.
30. WITH ONE FOOT IN EDEN
In the house, in their front room. Bill had heard the news and Bill had seen the reports. In the car, at the wheel. Bill could not believe his ears, Bill could not believe his eyes. On the road, the road to Manchester. Bill still could not believe his ears, Bill still could not believe his eyes. In the car park, the car park at Old Trafford. Bill would not believe it. Bill refused to believe it. In the office, the office at Old Trafford. Bill would not believe it until he had heard it from the man himself. Until he had seen the man himself. And Bill had asked, Why, Matt? Why?
I’ve had enough, Bill. And so I’ve resigned. I’ve quit.
But you’re not a quitter, Matt. You can’t resign.
But I have, Bill. Because I’ve had enough.
Enough of what, Matt? Enough of football? But football is your life, Matt. Football is all there is. You know that, Matt …
Yes, I know that, Bill. But I’ve had enough of it, enough of football. It has been a burden to me. A burden I have wanted, yes. But the burden has been demanding. The burden has been great. It has weighed me down. And it has tired me out. And now I’m too drained to go on. I am too old to go on. It’s time for a younger man to pick up the burden. It is time for a younger man to carry the weight, Bill.
Bill shook his head. And Bill said, But who, Matt? Who? Who can pick up that burden? Who can carry that weight, Matt? Do you have a man in mind? A younger man in mind, Matt?
Well, that’s the problem, Bill. The biggest problem. Because if they bring in a new man, if they bring in a man from outside. Then that man will want his own staff. Just as I did twenty-three years ago. And then what will become of my staff? Of Jimmy Murphy? Of Jack Compton? Of Johnny Aston? Of Joe Armstrong? Of Wilf McGuinness? These men who have been with me through everything. These men who have been with me through so much. Through all the joy and through all the agony. And so I cannot see them just pushed aside, Bill. I cannot see them just thrown away. I cannot, Bill. I cannot …