by David Peace
And Bill closed the wardrobe door. Bill walked out of the bedroom. Bill walked down the stairs. Bill opened the front door. Bill went out of the house. Bill closed the front door. Bill walked down the drive. Bill walked over to the television crew. The television crew from Scottish Television. Bill shook hands with the television crew. The cameraman and the sound man. Bill shook hands again with the interviewer. The English interviewer from Scottish Television. And Bill said, So where do you want to do this? Where do you want me?
Just over here will be fine, said the interviewer.
In the sunshine. In the street. With cars passing and with dogs barking. Bill followed the interviewer to the spot they had marked. In the sunshine. In the street. In his grey jacket. His big grey jacket. And his red shirt. With its big red collar. Bill looked up at the camera. Into the television camera. And then Bill looked away. His hands in his pockets. Deep in his pockets. Bill looked down. Down at his shoes, down at the ground. Deep under the ground –
Bill, said the interviewer. Bill?
And Bill looked up.
Let’s start at the beginning …
Yes.
Glenbuck? Some place, Glenbuck?
Well, at one time it was interesting. But you saw it. I mean, it’s derelict now. But that’s only one of a hundred villages that are derelict.
When we were down there, said the interviewer, somebody said, Oh, I remember Bill Shankly. He was never off the hills. Running up and down. Training. Playing in your pit boots …
Bill nodded. And Bill said, Ah well, yes. I mean, everybody, when you were boys, had big boots. They lasted longer, you know? With toe plates in them. Steel toe plates …
And Bill laughed. And Bill said, I mean, it’s sure to break somebody’s leg if you kicked them …
But how hard was it? Because I mean, to us, somebody of my generation, I mean, you say, Gosh, you can’t live like that?
Bill nodded.
Big family, ten of you …
Yeah.
Small house …
Well, in the village there were some people had twelve of a family. And fourteen. Yes, it was hard. But I mean, not as hard as it would look, really. Because I mean, if there’s a group of boys. Sisters and brothers. And you’ve got a good mother and father. You stick together. And you make things easier for each other. I mean, it’s like playing football. You play collectively and then you’re very difficult to beat. But if you’ve individuals in your team, then your team will fall down. Well, we were a team. And we helped each other.
And let’s set the record straight about Glenbuck Cherrypickers. Famous team. But, in fact, you never really played for them, did you?
I played a trial when I were sixteen year old. And that season, they went defunct. They finished. That was their last season as a team. And so then, later on, I went to a little village called Cronberry. Near Cumnock. And played for Cronberry. Yeah.
How much money did you get for matches like that?
Oh well, I used to cycle to Cronberry. It was about twelve or fourteen mile. And I think it might have been two and six. Five bob. Maybe seven and six. Yeah …
And I mean, of course, it wasn’t just you, was it? Every brother, all your brothers played professional football, didn’t they?
Bill nodded. And Bill said, They did. They did.
Who was the best? Yourself aside …
Er, it’s difficult to say. I would think that possibly my brother Jimmy. Being he was a centre-forward and scored goals. He would have been, in modern football, possibly the best player.
How would you rate yourself, looking back? And comparing yourself to people you’ve managed?
Well, my record is that I reached international standard and I played in cup finals. And so, er, I got more credit than them. But maybe they didn’t have the same chance as me.
How come you ended up in Preston, then? Because presumably a lot of Scottish sides would have liked to have signed you?
Well, I went to Carlisle on trial. And they signed me on. And then Preston saw me playing. After a season. They bought me for five hundred pounds. And out of that, I got forty pounds, I think. You couldn’t get from Carlisle to Preston on the train now for forty pound.
The interviewer laughed. The interviewer nodded.
And Bill said, So Preston had been watching me the whole season. And after playing maybe about only six games in Carlisle’s big team, they took me …
That’s always been the thing with you, hasn’t it? Driving onwards and onwards. And which, I think, is because of Glenbuck. And getting away from it. And getting on in life? And …
Bill said, Having seen the conditions that people had to live in. Having been in a pit, working in a pit. And it was either the pit or nothing. So that, I mean, that kind of environment really is good for people. And maybe that helped me. But being born, I think, with the determination is the thing. I mean, I think everything is inborn. I think that if anybody’s got ability, I think that it’s a natural thing for them …
Let’s talk a little about some of the Scottish players you played with, back in those days. Who were the great ones amongst them?
Well, it’s a difficult thing to say. But my first game for Scotland was at Wembley. And George Brown, who is now director of Rangers, he was playing. Captain of Scotland. Because I remember when the game was over. In the bath. George Brown said, Well, I think that will be my last game. He said, I’m thirty-three. And that was my first game. And it was possibly his last game for Scotland. George Brown was a class player. The great Tommy Walker was playing then, of course. He was brilliant. He was strong. He could batter them with both feet. He was fit. Jimmy Delaney played. I had these two in front of me. Jimmy Delaney was a powerful boy and all. And I remember playing over in Belfast. In the mud, one day. And at Tynecastle. In the mud, against Wales. And Walker and Delaney and I revelled in the mud. And I felt that the final game I played at Hampden, in thirty-nine, when England beat us. If Jimmy Delaney, who called off, had have been able to play. Then I think we would have beaten England.
Every kid in the country dreams of playing for Scotland. What’s it really like, in the dressing room at Hampden Park, when you’re pulling that dark blue jersey over your head? That must be the greatest thrill of them all, surely?
Oh well, it’s unbelievable. Because I mean, as a Scottish boy, I mean your whole dream is to be, if you’re football-minded, your whole dream is to play for Scotland. I mean, all Scottish people have got the fervour, you know? They want to fight. I mean, not fight like hooligans. I mean, they are all fighting people. They are warriors from the past. And small nations tend to be that way, you know? They think they are being sat on. And they fight back.
By the English?
Oh no, by everybody! Yeah, but then it was Scotland–England. Oh yes. Yes. I mean, as far as we were concerned, English people were poison, you know?
Yeah, said the interviewer. But tell me, are the Scots as good at football as they think they are?
Well, that’s a difficult thing to say. I mean, I don’t think that the best has been got out of the Scottish players that has been available to play at international level. And I think that they’ve got more natural ability than most of the other countries.
Yes, because you say in your book, don’t you? That you wish Scotland had called on you in some capacity or another? To help out? So, I mean, you obviously think that you could have done something that hadn’t been done, do it better? What …
Bill looked at the interviewer. And Bill said, Well, my record is one of success, as a manager. And I think that I have got the ways and means of motivating people. And if I had all the pick of the Scottish players at my disposal, then I think that I would have been successful. And that somebody was going to get an awful belting off us.
So who would you have picked, asked the interviewer. Say, for example, in the last two or three years? Do you think Scotland have left players out who should have been in?
Oh, I don’t kno
w about that. I don’t know about that. In the midfield, at the moment, they’ve got tremendous strength. And the three boys that are playing – Rioch, that Archie Gemmill, Masson – and, of course, Lou Macari, who is playing brilliantly. And so they’ve got the greatest midfield strength of all, at the moment …
Macari can’t even get in the side, laughed the interviewer. But you tried to sign him, didn’t you?
Oh well, aye. Macari’s not in the team, so the other boys must be brilliant to keep him out. I think, mind you, he may have been in. He was unfortunate. I think whoever got in now, would stay in. And if Macari had been in, he would have stayed in. But I think that Macari will play for Scotland soon.
I’ve always thought that one of the big reasons for Bill Shankly’s success was he was a master psychologist?
Yes, well, conning is not really the word. I mean, I think that psychology is a form of exaggeration. And exaggeration is a form of psychology. And I was brought up in a village where all the men used to stand at the corner and tell terrible tales, you know? Long tales. Exaggerated tales. Now that’s a form of psychology. Exaggeration.
How do you mean? What sort of tales?
Bill smiled. And Bill said, Tales about, er, I mean, an old man, he used to work in the pit. He says he pushed a hatch three hundred yards before he knew he was off the rails, you know? Things like that. We all used to wear little cloth caps. And we used to turn our caps upside down, you see? And this was a sign we didn’t believe him. And then he used to go and say, Christ! I’ll murder all of you! So I had psychology. I mean, I had a boy here. And he started off playing well. Then he tapered off. So I said, I need to work on him. Because he’s got ability. So I used to give him the impression, when we were going to the away game, You’re not doing too well, son, you know? That he wouldn’t be playing. So he’d be sitting in the train or the bus thinking, Well, I’m not playing. And when we got to the ground, I’d say, Do you want to play? And he’d say, Good God, aye. So he made his debut again. You see? That boosted him up.
I’ve been told a story about you and the table football …
Yeah. Yeah …
And getting that all organised …
Yeah …
Tell us that story.
You mean, the tactical talks?
Yes.
Oh well. I mean, we used to go and watch teams, and we only wanted to know what their basic formation was. And we had tactical talks. And there was anybody who would cause trouble, we would pay attention to them. But if we were playing against big teams, I used to take out big players, you know? The opposition. And put them in my pocket. And by the time half the big players were off, I said, We’ve cut them out already. We’ve beaten them. So I’d put the little Bobby Charlton and George Best in my pocket when I was talking. They weren’t playing. And Denis Law. They didn’t make any difference.
They weren’t very good?
No, no. We had eliminated them. So I took them off …
And Bill nodded. And Bill smiled. And Bill waited –
So you became a manager, said the interviewer. And you started in some fairly far-flung places: Workington, Grimsby, Carlisle. What did you learn in those far-flung places that worked for you when you finally got to Anfield?
Yes, I started in the outposts. Carlisle. And Grimsby. And Workington. And Huddersfield. Hard places. But good places to be. I enjoyed myself. Yeah …
But what do you learn in a small club which then served you well, when you got to Liverpool?
Well, you learn you’ve got to work with very little money. This is detrimental, of course. But it’s like being brought up in Glenbuck. A hard village, you know? That’s a hard life. So being at Carlisle to manage. Being at Workington to manage, which is an outpost. I mean, that’s hard work. So I think it’s really a good thing to have been there.
You see, to my mind, all the really good managers I’ve met – people like Jock Stein, for example, yourself …
Bill nodded. And Bill said, Yes.
The thing which separates them from all the other managers is not only this drive, but a kind of honesty. That you’re looking after the club, that football counts …
Yes.
Well, I’m not putting this very well. But I suppose what I am trying to say is, there really is something which separates really good managers from the average managers. Now what is it? There’s a marvellous story about Jock Stein. Celtic were playing away at Dundee United. And the match was called off at the last minute …
Bill nodded again. And Bill said, Yes.
And he drove out to Cumbernauld, on a Saturday, and stopped all the supporters’ buses going to Dundee United. So that is what a good manager is about, isn’t it?
Bill nodded. And Bill said, Now that is something. His first thoughts were for the people who pay. He’s right. That was a wonderful thing to do.
Yes. Now going back, over all the years at Liverpool. They say the hardest thing in football is to have one good side, break it up, and create another one. You managed that pretty successfully?
Yeah …
But when you look back, were your affections for the first side really, more than the second?
Yeah, well, they were a great team. And I think that possibly there was very few teams in Britain would have beaten them. Over the last thirty years. To break it up – that was Ian St John, and Ron Yeats, and Peter Thompson, and Roger Hunt. Tommy Smith and Callaghan are still playing, of course – so to break it up was difficult. Because the one thing that surprised me was that I had vouched that I thought they would go on for another three years. Now they didn’t. So they finished three years earlier than I thought they would do. So then my plans weren’t working then. I was in the Third Divisions and Fourth Divisions, looking for players, like the Clemences. And Alec Lindsay and Larry Lloyd. And Keegan and them. But I went early to the Third and Fourth Divisions. I couldn’t go and pay a hundred and fifty thousand pounds for a player and put him in the reserves. So I had to go to the lower leagues. And pick young boys. Eighteen, Clemence was, when I signed him.
What really comes across, when you were building that first Liverpool side, the great side, was that you were absolutely certain that you needed two players. And those two players were Ron Yeats and Ian St John. What was it made you so sure those were the two players that you needed to turn what was an ordinary side into a great one?
Some players are signed on with no doubt at all. No danger. Other ones, well, I hadn’t seen enough of them to be sure of them. So there’s always a risk and a gamble buying a player. Some of them I bought, there was no risk at all. In fact, it was stealing. Stealing!
What about Yeats, for example? Start with him …
Bill smiled again. And Bill said, Oh, Yeats was a colossus. Dear me. One of the biggest men in the game. Defended his box. He was one of the quickest men in the game. And possibly, over seventy, eighty yards, there were nobody in Britain could have lived with him. So he was a powerful man with a big heart. And a big frame. And St John and Yeats were the beginning …
And what has St John got? Because those were more sophisticated skills …
Oh, St John was strong. He was small but punchy and strong. And crafty and cunning. And a needle. He’d put his foot in, if he needed to put his foot in.
You mean, he’d kick his own grandmother?
Oh yes. Well, they’re the kind I want. Yes. You don’t want fellas that are yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full. They don’t do me. I want men to be men. But to take it. If someone else is going to kick them, not to complain. So that it’s a man’s game.
Just go back to the psychology. Because that extended to referees with you, didn’t it? You always had a fair old way of making your points to referees, didn’t you?
Oh well, it’s a difficult job, referees. It’s a hard job. I mean, we tried to help them as much as we could. And in the end, of course, my idea of referees, for the players’ point of view, was don’t dissent. They give decisions against you. It’s no g
ood arguing. You’ll only hurt yourself. You’ll upset your system. You’ll not be normal, if you’re incensed. I said, So forget them. Take it. And if I drummed it into them long enough, then it would get to the point whereby they would take all the decisions and it wouldn’t upset them. So I said, If he gives a free kick against you, you’re all arguing the toss outside the box, and then you might even lose a goal because of this. I said, Now they may have given the decision against you. I said, But I’ll tell you one thing. I’ve never seen a referee scoring a goal yet. They are all complaining about the referee giving a bad decision. I said, He didn’t put the bloody ball in the net, did he? You see? So that was my psychology.
The interviewer laughed.
And Bill smiled.
And then tell us about the Kop, said the interviewer. Was it there before you came?
Oh yes.
The singing and everything else?
Yes, the noise was there. Yeah. Not the singing. The singing came later. The singing came along with the Beatles. And your Gerry Marsden’s You’ll Never Walk Alone. And Ee-Aye-Addio. That all came around the time we were beginning to move in sixty-four, sixty-five. And we win the Cup for the first time …
Is it worth a goal start? Or two-goal start? Because I mean, it must have been an intimidating place for other teams, Anfield?
No, they make a noise. But they are very fair. If you come here and play the game. Play football. They’ll applaud you. If you come here with other intentions, it’s a different story. They can be hard and all. But they are very fair. And they’re very noisy, of course. There’s a big band of them. And I would think that they are possibly the funniest crowd, you know? The humour of them. I mean, they can pick up things right away. I mean, I remember Leeds United coming here. And Sprake, in goal, was going to roll a ball out, you see? So he changed his mind, so he threw it into the net, you see? And inside of two minutes, they were singing Careless Hands. It’s unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable. Yeah. That happened. That’s absolutely true. Yeah …
Why did they make you almost into a god? Because I mean, you were their man, weren’t you?
