Bill saw the shirt in the hands of Roger Hunt. The Liverpool shirt. And Bill saw the tears in the eyes of Roger Hunt. And Bill sat down beside Roger Hunt. And Bill put his arm around the shoulders of Roger Hunt. And Bill said, I believe you are one of the greatest centre-forwards I have ever seen, son. I believe you have played in some of the greatest games I have ever seen. I believe you have scored some of the greatest goals I have ever seen. But it is not about me. And it is not about you. You did not play in those games for me. You did not score those goals for me. You played in those games for Liverpool Football Club. For the team. And for the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For the people. And so you scored those goals for Liverpool Football Club. For the team. And for the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For the people. Not for me, son. And not for you. Every single decision we make, every single thing we do, is for Liverpool Football Club. For the team. And for the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For the people. Not for you, not for me. For the team, for the people.
…
In the house, in their bedroom. In the dark and in the silence. Bill stared up at the ceiling. The bedroom ceiling. And Bill saw the tables on the ceiling. The bedroom ceiling. Bill saw the standings on the ceiling. The bedroom ceiling. Bill knew if Leeds United lost their last two games. Their game against Liverpool Football Club and their game against Nottingham Forest. And if Liverpool Football Club won their last three games. Their game against Leeds United, their game against Manchester City and their game against Newcastle United. Then Liverpool Football Club would be the Champions of England. In their house, in the bedroom. Bill knew Liverpool Football Club had to beat Leeds United tomorrow night. But Bill knew Leeds United could lose tomorrow night and still be the Champions of England. If Leeds United drew with Nottingham Forest. Leeds United would still be the Champions of England. In the dark and in the silence. Bill knew it was out of his hands. It was out of his hands. And in the dark,
and in the silence. Bill cursed his hands,
his empty, empty hands.
…
On the bench again, the Anfield bench again. On a Monday night, the last Monday night in April. In a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. Bill watched Bremner win the toss. And Bremner choose to make Liverpool Football Club play towards the Spion Kop in the first half. It was a gamble, it was a risk. And in a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. From the first minute, Liverpool Football Club attacked and attacked. In a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. From the very back to the front, from Tommy Lawrence to Chris Lawler, Lawler to Geoff Strong, Strong to Tommy Smith, Smith to Ronnie Yeats, Yeats to Emlyn Hughes, Hughes to Ian Callaghan, Callaghan to Bobby Graham, Graham to Alun Evans, Evans to Ian St John and from St John to Peter Thompson. In a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. The players of Leeds United were rattled, the players of Leeds United were shaken. The challenges rash and the tackles fierce. Tommy Smith needed treatment. Tommy Lawrence needed treatment. Terry Cooper needed treatment. Gary Sprake needed treatment. And Mick Jones needed treatment. But in the madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. The players of Leeds United began to find their feet, the players of Leeds United began to find their rhythm. And to defend and to defend. From the very front to the back, from Gray to Giles, Giles to Jones, Jones to Madeley, Madeley to O’Grady, O’Grady to Hunter, Hunter to Charlton, Charlton to Bremner, Bremner to Cooper, Cooper to Reaney and from Reaney to Sprake. In a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. The white cliffs repelled the red waves. The shot from Ian Callaghan and the header from Alun Evans. The white cliffs stood and the red waves broke. In a madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. For minute after minute, long minute after long minute. In the seventy-second minute, Ian St John lobbed the ball into the penalty area. The ball found Alun Evans in the penalty area. Evans unmarked. The goal unguarded. The goal at his mercy. Evans shot and Evans missed. And in the madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. Hammered and hammered, hammered and hammered. The long minutes became short minutes, the short minutes became dying minutes. In the madhouse of electric noise that hammered the senses. Hammered and hammered. The dying minutes, the last minute. Hammered. The last minute, the last seconds. And hammered. The last seconds, the last second. Hammered. And in that last second, Bill watched the referee put his whistle to his lips. And the referee blew his whistle. And in the madhouse of electric noise that had hammered the senses. Liverpool Football Club had drawn nil — nil with Leeds United. And Leeds United had got their point. Their last point. And Leeds United were the Champions of England for the first time in the history of Leeds United Association Football Club. But the players of Leeds United Association Football Club did not leap into the air. The Anfield air. The players of Leeds United Association Football Club did not jump for joy into the night. The Anfield night. The players of Leeds United Association Football Club stood upon the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Their backs bent in half, their hands upon their thighs. Gasping for air, panting for breath. Until slowly, one by one, man by man, the players of Leeds United Association Football Club realised what they had done, knew what they had achieved. And the players of Leeds United Association Football Club raised their heads. And the players of Leeds United Association Football Club raised their arms. In salute and in victory. And they walked with heads held high, they strode with arms raised high, towards their own supporters, the supporters of Leeds United Association Football Club. In salute and in victory. In victory.
On the touchline, the Anfield touchline. Bill shook the hand of Don Revie. And Bill said, Congratulations, Don. Congratulations. You are a great team, Don. A great team. And you are worthy and deserving champions, Don. Champions of England.
Thank you, said Don Revie. Thank you, Bill. You cannot know what your words mean. What your praise means to me. Thank you for your words, Bill. Thank you for your praise …
Bill nodded. And Bill said, Now lead your team, Don. Lead your team to the Kop. So the Spion Kop can applaud you, Don. So the Spion Kop can salute you, too.
Don Revie walked onto the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Don Revie went up to his players. The players of Leeds United. And Don Revie led the players of Leeds United down the pitch. The Anfield pitch. Towards the Kop. The Spion Kop. And there was silence. Sudden silence, momentary silence. And then there was applause. From the Kop. There were cheers. From the Spion Kop. And the Spion Kop hailed the new Champions of England, the Spion Kop saluted Leeds United Association Football Club. In their victory.
In the tunnel, the Anfield tunnel. Bill picked up a crate. A crate of champagne. Bill went into the dressing room. The away dressing room. And Bill put down the crate of champagne on a bench in the away dressing room. The Champions’ dressing room. And then Bill walked out of the away dressing room. The Champions’ dressing room. And Bill walked into the home dressing room. The silent dressing room. And Bill heard the studs of the Leeds United players coming down the tunnel. The Anfield tunnel. Bill heard the songs of the Leeds United players. The songs of celebration. The champagne corks and the champagne toasts. The toasts to victory. And Bill looked around the dressing room. The losers’ dressing room. From player to player. These players who had given everything, these players who had won nothing. And Bill looked at Bob Paisley, Reuben Bennett, Joe Fagan and Ronnie Moran. These men who had given everything, these men who had won nothing. And Bill had no words.