Red Or Dead

by David Peace

  Aye, said Bill Shankly. It’s always a question of time, is it not? Knowing when is the right time. The right time to bring a player on. To give him his chance. His moment. That beautiful moment, that wonderful time. When everything is before him. All to come for him. But then there is that other time. The time to let a player go. To give him his cards. That horrible moment, that terrible time. When everything is behind him. All gone for him. Aye, it’s always a question of time, Joe. Always a question of time …

  …

  On Wednesday 4 October, 1967, Malmö Fotbollförening of Sweden came to Anfield, Liverpool. That evening, thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five folk came, too. Thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five folk to watch Liverpool Football Club play Malmö Fotbollförening in the second leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In the twenty-eighth minute, Ron Yeats scored. In the thirty-sixth minute, Roger Hunt scored. And Liverpool Football Club of England beat Malmö Fotbollförening of Sweden two–one in the second leg of the First Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. At home, at Anfield.

  Three days afterwards, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Filbert Street, Leicester. In the twenty-seventh minute, Ian St John scored. But Liverpool Football Club lost two–one to Leicester City. One week later, West Ham United came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, forty-six thousand, nine hundred and fifty-one folk came, too. In the fifteenth minute, Ian St John scored. In the thirty-eighth minute, St John scored again. And in the sixty-eighth minute, Tommy Smith scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat West Ham United three–one. At home, at Anfield.

  On Tuesday 24 October, 1967, Liverpool Football Club travelled to Turf Moor, Burnley. In the eighty-second minute, Chris Lawler scored. And Liverpool Football Club drew one-all with Burnley Football Club. Away from home, away from Anfield.

  Four days afterwards, Sheffield Wednesday Football Club came to Anfield, Liverpool. That afternoon, fifty thousand, three hundred and ninety-nine folk came, too. In the tenth minute, Chris Lawler scored. And Liverpool Football Club beat Sheffield Wednesday one–nil. At home, at Anfield. That evening, Liverpool Football Club had twenty points. And Liverpool Football Club were still first in the First Division. That month, Liverpool Football Club had played five games. They had won three, drawn one and lost one. Lawrence, Lawler, Byrne, Smith, Hughes, Callaghan, Hunt, Hateley, St John and Thompson had played in all five games. Yeats had played in four of the five games. And Strong had played in the other game. That season, Liverpool Football Club still had twenty-eight more League games to come. Twenty-eight more games to play.

  26. NOW BRINGS A SMILE, NOW BRINGS A TEAR

  In the drive, in the car. In the night. Bill turned off the engine. Bill got out of the car. Bill walked up the drive. Bill unlocked the front door. Bill opened the door. Bill stepped into the house. In the dark. Bill closed the door. Bill took off his hat. Bill took off his coat. Bill hung up his hat. Bill hung up his coat. Bill went into the front room. Bill switched on the light. Bill walked over to his armchair. Bill picked up the pile of newspapers from beside his armchair. Bill carried the pile of newspapers into the kitchen. Bill put down the pile of newspapers on the table. Bill walked back into the front room. Bill went over to the bookcase. Bill opened the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase. Bill took a scrapbook, a pair of scissors and a tin of glue out of the cupboard. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill switched off the light. Bill walked back into the kitchen. Bill switched on the light. Bill put down the scrapbook, the pair of scissors and the tin of glue on the table. Bill sat down at the table. Bill picked up the first newspaper on the pile. Bill turned the pages of the newspaper. Bill picked up the pair of scissors. Bill cut out the reports of every game. Not only the reports about the games Liverpool Football Club had played. The reports about every game every football club had played. Bill opened the tin of glue. Bill stuck the reports into the scrapbook. Not only the reports about the games Liverpool Football Club had played. The reports about every game every football club had played. In the kitchen, at the table. In the night and in the silence. Bill kept turning the pages of the newspapers. Bill kept picking up his scissors. Bill kept cutting out the reports. Bill kept sticking the reports in the scrapbook. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stopped turning the pages. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at one page. Tommy Docherty, the manager of Chelsea Football Club, had received a twenty-eight-day suspension from all football activity following incidents on the club’s goodwill tour of Bermuda in June. Bill turned to the next page. Tommy Docherty had resigned as manager of Chelsea Football Club. Bill turned to the next page. On Saturday 7 October, 1967, Leeds United had beaten Chelsea Football Club seven–nil. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill shook his head. Bill knew Tommy. Tommy had played for Preston North End. Bill liked Tommy. Bill thought what had happened to Tommy was a tragedy. A tragedy for Tommy. Bill thought what had happened to Tommy was a waste. A waste for Chelsea Football Club. In the night and in the silence. Bill shook his head again. And Bill turned the pages again. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stopped turning the pages again. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at another page. On Sunday 8 October, 1967, Clement Attlee had died. Bill stood up. Bill walked back into the front room. Bill switched on the light again. Bill went back over to the bookcase again. Bill opened the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase again. Bill took another scrapbook out of the small cupboard. Bill turned the pages of the scrapbook. Bill came to the pages of cuttings from January, 1965. The pages of cuttings about the funeral of Winston Churchill. The cuttings and the photographs. In the night and in the silence. Bill stared down at one photograph. The photograph of Clement Attlee at the funeral of Winston Churchill. Clement Attlee standing, frozen in St Paul’s Cathedral. Clement Attlee standing, frail in St Paul’s Cathedral. In the night and in the silence. Bill closed the pages of the scrapbook. Bill put the scrapbook back in the small cupboard at the side of the bookcase. Bill closed the door. Bill switched off the light again. Bill walked back into the kitchen again. Bill sat back down again. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill stared down at the pages of obituaries of Clement Attlee. In the night and in the silence. Bill shook his head. Bill had admired Clement Attlee. Bill had respected Clement Attlee. And Bill had voted for Clement Attlee. Bill thought what had happened to Clement Attlee was a tragedy. A tragedy for the man. Bill thought what had happened to Clement Attlee was a waste. A waste for the country. In the kitchen, at the table. Bill shook his head again. In the night and in the silence.

  …

  On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. Bill watched Hughes pass to St John. St John run to the left, St John run to the right. St John shoot. And St John score. Bill watched St John cross. Hateley fly in. And Hateley score. Bill watched Smith put the ball on the penalty spot. And Smith put the ball in the net. Nine minutes later, Bill watched Hunt score. One minute afterwards, Bill watched Thompson score. And one minute later, Bill watched Hunt score again. And then Callaghan score. And then Callaghan score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. In the night and in the noise. The red night, the red noise. Bill heard the Spion Kop clap, Bill heard the Spion Kop cheer. And Bill heard the Spion Kop sing, God help United, God help United, God help…

  On the touchline, the Anfield touchline. Albert Sing, the manager of TSV 1860 München, shook Bill’s hand –

  I have never seen a display of attacking football like that, said Albert Sing. The only thing I can think to compare it to is the great Hungarian Golden Team of Puskás, Kocsis, Bozsik and Hidegkuti. And so I only hope my own boys have learnt a lesson. A lesson in how to play football, in how football should be played. And I also hope someone makes a film loop of all those eight goals, those eight beautiful goals, to show to every school in England and every school in Europe. To show every boy in England and every boy in Europe. Because that is how football should be played, Mr Shankly. That is how all boys should play football. So congratulations, Mr
Shankly …

  Bill said, Thank you, Herr Sing. Thank you very much, sir.

  Bill walked down the touchline. The Anfield touchline. Bill walked down the tunnel. The Anfield tunnel. Bill walked into the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill looked around the dressing room. The Liverpool dressing room. From player to player. From Tommy Lawrence to Chris Lawler, Chris to Gerry Byrne, Gerry to Tommy Smith, Tommy to Ron Yeats, Ronnie to Emlyn Hughes, Emlyn to Ian Callaghan, Cally to Roger Hunt, Roger to Tony Hateley, Tony to Ian St John and from the Saint to Peter Thompson. And Bill smiled. And Bill said, Well played, boys. Well played.

  …

  In the front room, in his chair. Bill stared down at his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the rain falling on their house. Bill closed his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill could hear the wind blowing around their house. Bill picked up his diary off the arm of the chair. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. Bill listened to the rain. And Bill stared down at the dates. Bill listened to the wind. And Bill stared down at the fixtures. The rain and the wind. On Saturday 6 October, 1967, Ian Ure of Arsenal Football Club had brought down Denis Law of Manchester United. Denis Law had taken a swing at Ian Ure. Denis Law had been sent off. The newspapers had predicted that Denis Law would be suspended for six months. Denis Law had been suspended for six weeks. Denis Law would miss nine games. Bill knew Manchester United would miss Denis Law. Bill closed his diary. His diary of dates, his diary of fixtures. In the front room, in his chair, Bill listened to the rain falling on their house. Bill listened to the wind blowing around their house. The rain falling on all the houses, the wind blowing around all the houses. And Bill smiled again.

  …

  In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Bill unfolded the piece of paper. And Bill said, Listen to this, boys. Just listen to this: Stepney, Dunne, Burns, Crerand, Foulkes, Sadler, Fitzpatrick, Kidd, Charlton, Best and Aston. That’s Manchester United today, boys. That’s their team today. No Denis Law, boys. And no Norbert Stiles. Now I know you’d beat Manchester United even if Law and Stiles were playing, boys. I know you would. So I have no doubts at all, boys. No doubts at all that you will murder this Manchester United team today. Absolutely bloody murder them. Worse than you did to the Germans on Tuesday. I know that, boys. I know that. Because this is their reserve team, boys. A second-string side. And I know Matt will be nervous, boys. I know Matt will be shitting bricks. Bringing a reserve team to Anfield, boys. Fielding a second-string side against Liverpool Football Club.

  On the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched George Best dodge every challenge, George Best elude every tackle. Bill watched George Best spin threads, George Best weave webs. With artistry and with craft, with bravery and with strength. Bill watched Best dance, Bill watched Best sing. And score and score again. And on the bench, the Anfield bench. Bill watched Liverpool Football Club slip and slip again. Liverpool Football Club no longer first in the First Division. Manchester United first in the First Division. Again. Liverpool Football Club second. Again. Second best. Again.

  In the dressing room. The home dressing room. Bill said, That boy Best is turning into some player, lads. Into some player. But this is just one game in a long season, lads. A very long season. And we will play them again, lads. We will play them again on April the sixth. And so remember that date, boys. Remember that date. Because on April the sixth we will go there, boys. We will go to Old Trafford and we will beat them. And if I’m not mistaken, boys. If I am not wrong. That will be the game, boys. That will be the match that decides the Championship, boys. That decides who will be first and who will be second. So remember that date, boys –

  Remember that date.

  …

  On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop. Liverpool Football Club had come to the City of Football again. Liverpool Football Club had come to the Népstadion again. But Liverpool Football Club had not played Honvéd Football Club. Liverpool Football Club had played Ferencvárosi Torna Club in the first leg of the Third Round of the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten AS Roma, Athletic Bilbao, Manchester United and Juventus. In 1965, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had won the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup. In 1966, Ferencvárosi Torna Club had reached the quarter-finals of the European Cup. In 1967, Flórián Albert of Ferencvárosi Torna Club had been named as the European Footballer of the Year. Nine players of the Hungarian national team played for Ferencvárosi Torna Club. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a very good side. Ferencvárosi Torna Club were a great team. And Ferencvárosi Torna Club had beaten Liverpool Football Club one–nil at the Népstadion. In a game that had been brought forward to one o’clock in the afternoon because snow was falling. Falling and falling. Heavier and heavier. And still falling, still falling. Heavier, still heavier. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill was not thinking about the game. Bill was thinking about the snow. And Bill was thinking about Matt again. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the snow from the runway. Bill heard the ground crew clearing the ice from the wings of the plane. And Bill thought about Tommy Curry. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines start again. Bill listened to the engines of the plane stop again. And Bill thought about the twenty-three people who had died that day in Munich. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill heard the ground crew clear the snow from the runway again. Bill heard the ground crew clear the ice from the wings of the plane again. And Bill could not stop thinking about that day in February, 1958. On the runway, the Budapest runway. In the aeroplane, the Liverpool aeroplane. Bill listened to the engines of the plane start for a third time. And Bill thought about Ness. Bill felt the plane begin to move. Bill thought about the girls. Bill felt the plane begin to pick up speed. Bill closed his eyes. Bill felt the plane shake. Bill gripped the armrest of his seat. Bill felt the plane shudder. His coat stuck to his jacket. His jacket stuck to his shirt. His shirt stuck to his vest. His vest stuck to his skin. His eyes closed and his knuckles white. Bill prayed. Bill felt the plane begin to leave the ground. And Bill prayed and Bill prayed, like he had prayed and prayed that day in February, 1958. And Bill felt the plane begin to climb. Like he had never prayed for anything before. To climb and climb. Jesus. Bill hated flying. Above the ice and above the snow. Christ. Bill hated travelling. Bill felt the plane begin to level off. Jesus. Bill hated Europe. Christ. Bill hated abroad. And now Bill felt the plane begin to cruise. But Bill did not relax his grip. Bill did not open his eyes. Not until the plane was on the ground again. Not until his feet were on the ground again. His grip tight, his eyes closed. Until Bill was back in Liverpool. Until Bill was home again.

  …

  On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Bill shivered and Bill watched. Liverpool Football Club precise, Liverpool Football Club swift. Bill shivered and Bill watched Hateley send the ball, the orange ball, through to Hunt. And Reaney reach the ball first. But Reaney could only nudge the orange ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Reaney lost his balance, Reaney lost his footing. And Reaney lost the orange ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Hunt found the ball. And Hunt found the net. And a goal. On the bench, the Anfield bench. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Bill not shivering now, Bill just watching now, watching Sprake collect a pass from Charlton. The players of Liverpool Football Club falling back to defend, the players of Leeds United pushing forward to attack. Sprake holding the ball in his hands, Sprake preparing to throw the orange ball out to Cooper. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. On the right of his own goal, Sprake shaped to throw the ball to
Cooper. Then Sprake seemed to have his doubts. Now Sprake seemed to change his mind. Sprake brought the orange ball back towards his chest. Sprake lost his grip on the ball. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. The orange ball curled up out of his arms. The ball swept up into the air. And in the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. The orange ball dropped into his goal. And in the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. There was silence. Then cheers. And then laughter. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. At half-time, over the tannoy, the Anfield tannoy, the announcer, the Anfield announcer, played Careless Hands by Des O’Connor. And the Spion Kop laughed. And the Spion Kop sang along to Careless Hands. In the snow, the heavy snow. On the hard and treacherous ground. Careless Hands …

  …

  In the front room, in his armchair. In the night and in the silence. Bill blinked. Bill rubbed his eyes. And Bill put down his book. His book of names, his book of notes. Bill got up from his chair. Bill switched off the light in the front room. Bill walked into the kitchen. Bill switched on the light. Bill went to the drawer. Bill opened the drawer. Bill took out the tablecloth. Bill closed the drawer. Bill walked over to the table. Bill spread the cloth over the table. Bill walked over to another drawer. Bill opened the drawer. Bill took out the cutlery. The spoons, the forks. And the knives. Bill closed the drawer. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill laid four places at the table. Bill went to the cupboard. Bill opened the cupboard door. Bill took out the crockery. The bowls and the plates. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill put a bowl and a plate in each of the four places. Bill walked back to the cupboard. Bill took out four glasses. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put a glass in each of the four places. Bill walked to another cupboard. Bill opened the door. Bill took out the salt and pepper pots. Bill closed the cupboard door. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put the salt and pepper pots on the table. Bill went to the pantry. Bill opened the pantry door. Bill took out a jar of honey and a jar of marmalade. Bill walked back to the table. Bill put the jar of honey and the jar of marmalade on the table. Bill walked over to the refrigerator. Bill opened the refrigerator door. Bill took out the butter dish. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill put the butter dish down in the centre of the table. Bill walked back over to the refrigerator. Bill took out a bottle of fresh orange juice. Bill closed the refrigerator door. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill poured orange juice into each of the four glasses. Bill put the bottle down on the table. In the night and in the silence. Bill walked over to the wall. Bill switched off the kitchen light. And in the night and in the silence. Bill heard Ness cough upstairs. In their bed, in her sleep. Bill heard her cough again. In the night and in the silence. Bill switched on the kitchen light again. In the night and in the silence. Bill looked at the kitchen table. Bill stared at the four places. And Bill shook his head. In the night and in the silence. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill picked up two spoons. Two forks. And two knives. Bill put them back in the drawer. Bill picked up two bowls and two plates. Bill put them back in the cupboard. Bill walked back over to the table. Bill picked up one of the glasses of orange juice. Bill poured the orange juice back into the bottle of orange juice. Bill picked up another of the glasses of orange juice. Bill poured the orange juice back into the bottle of orange juice. Bill took the two empty glasses over to the sink. Bill washed up the two dirty glasses. Bill dried up the two glasses. Bill put them back in the cupboard. Bill walked back over to the wall. Bill switched off the light again. And in the night and in the silence. Bill heard Ness cough again. In their bed, in her sleep. In the night and in the silence. Bill switched on the kitchen light again. In the night and in the silence. Bill looked at the kitchen table again. Bill stared at the two places. And in the night and in the silence. Bill fought back tears,