Bob Paisley. Long Awaited Update!

[barnieslad]

During the OTK Christmas party a few of us got talking about the OTK trip to Glenbuck and the Shankly Memorial that was such a success and we quickly got on the subject of where to go next. The suggestion was another 'pilgramage' type of adventure along similar lines to what we did in the summer - a journey to another part of the country to pay homage to one of The Greats from our illustrious past in the town of their birth and after Shankly, that has to be Paisley and a trip to his place of birth. Hetton-le-Hole in County Durham.

Bob Paisley is our most successful manager with a total of 3 European cups, 6 League Titles, 3 League Cups, 1 Uefa cup, 1 European Super Cup and 5 Charity Shields. Bob was named Manager Of The Year 6 times.

All this during a managerial career spanning just 9 seasons.

The only problem is that, as far as I am aware, there is no memorial for Bob Paisley in Hetton-le-Hole.

I am personally of the opinion that if a memorial exists for the great Bill Shankly in the town of his birth then Bob Paisley should be honoured in the same way.

One of our board members who I was talking to about this is WillieBob and he is currently waiting for a reply from the local council in Hetton about this to find out if a memorial exists.

If there IS a memorial to the great man in Hetton then I think we should go there to pay our respects for all the glory and great times he gave us.

If there ISN'T a memorial then I think we should get our arses in gear and make one. On the proviso, of course, that it would be acceptable to his family and of course the locals up there. But I think that as one of the worlds greatest football managers came from around there then they'd surely be delighted to recognise that fact.

Over to you.....

[tomolfc]

Bob is out GREATEST ever manager, bar none.He deserves a  lot more than he actually got.

[liamo3]

Here is a great piece from Evo one of his best


BOB PAISLEY


Let's start straight away by saying Bob didn't really want the job as Manager after Shanks resigned. The popular avuncular figure saw himself more as a physio (a job he had done very well for years) rather than management material. He was to prove himself, along with a lot of people, wrong during nine years of unparalleled success.

Things started off reasonably well for Bob. A good start to the season saw us head the table for a while, but then again so did the likes of Sheffield United and Carlisle United during that crazy season!
A tricky patch in November (no change there then) gave Bob's critics the chance to have a snipe. Maybe Bob didn't help himself at times though. A nice enough guy, Bob, but never really comfortable when facing the media. Where Shanks would court publicity Bob would shy away from it. Watching Bob in front of a TV camera would make you squirm in embarrassment for him. It was like being present at an argument between a married couple; no way out you just had to sit there and suffer 'til it was over!

Bob's first season ended in failure; we only finished second! The groundwork had been laid though for the majesty that was ahead of us. Bob had the knack, although he probably didn't know it when he was at first reticent of taking the job, of turning ordinary players into great ones, good ones into greats and greats into Kenny Dalglish! The previously unheard of Phil Neal was bought to fill a problematic full-back position. Terry McDermott, an average midfielder at Newcastle who must have thought the nearest he would get to Liverpool glory was swapping shirts with Phil Thompson after the Cup Final, was signed but made no immediate impact. Players who weren't quite up to the mark or had served us well but were now surplus to requirements were gradually phased out: Alec Lindsay, Brian Hall, Phil Boersma, Alan Waddle, Brian Kettle and Chris Lawler. A young, tough midfielder, Jimmy Case, was brought in for the last match of the '74-'75 season. Where had this gem emerged? South Liverpool for a fee of £10,000! Bob's greatest masterstrokes though were to lay before him.

Shanks had bought Ray Kennedy for a big fee from Arsenal the day before his departure. Big Razor hadn't exactly torn down any trees in his first eighteen months at Anfield until Bob saw something in him that nobody else had. Ray would make a great left midfield player. Would he? He had formed a brilliant strike partnership at Highbury with John Radford, which had helped Arsenal win the double in 1970- '71, but he hadn't cut the mustard so far at Anfield. "Trust me", said Bob. He was to be proved right. Razor's left foot could open a tin of beans!

A mad dog of a full-back, Joey Jones was signed from Wrexham but again struggled at first and was used only sparingly in the '75-'76 season. Terry Mac fell into the same bracket and his frustrations were to lead him to make a transfer request which thankfully for him and us was refused. Bob had great plans for him! Bob also saw something in a young lad, David Fairclough, that said, "Not quite good enough for a regular first team place but lethal as a substitute when a short, sharp burst is needed." Davy wasn't happy with his supersub tag but that's what he certainly was!

Bob's team, as distinct from Shanks', which he had inherited, was gradually taking shape. The players he was bringing in along with the now established nucleus of Clemence, Neal, Thompson, Hughes, Keegan, Heighway, Toshack and Callaghan were starting to look more than the part. In other words he was combining the great players left from the shankly era with his own men to form one master team. The League Championship and UEFA Cup were won in what after all was only Bob's second season. As a physio he made a ****** good manager! As a "trainer" he made a great tactician. Maybe even he didn't realise he was a coaching genius! Underneath the "Uncle Bob" façade he had a ruthless streak. Never frightened to discipline a player who had stepped out of line. Never frightened to drop a player who wasn't doing the business, no matter who they were! A banner at Molineux when we won the League summed it up: Q.P.R.: Quality from Paisley's Reds.

Bob's first European trophy, the UEFA Cup was brought to Anfield that season after two titanic games in the final against Bruges. Phil Neal had a nightmare in the first leg at Anfield, which we won 3-2 after being two goals down. Despite calls for Neal to be dropped for the second leg, Bob stuck with him. Phil had a storming game in Bruges, which was drawn 1-1.

The start of the following season saw the arrival of David Johnson from Ipswich. Dave was one of the best centre-forwards in the country at the time but like a lot of good players struggled to maintain a regular starting place at Anfield. Mad Dog Jones made the left-back position his own as Phil Neal was switched again to right-back by Bob with brilliant effect. Now Joey wasn't the best player in the world. He wasn't even the best player in his house! What he lacked in skill though he made up for in heart. He would have run round the world twice for Liverpool! Bob recognised this and the effect it had not only the crowd but on Joey's team mates too. Joey let wingers know he was there though. More than one ended up in the Paddock with the Kop roaring him on! Joey's clenched fist salute to the Kop was to become his trademark.

Meanwhile Bob had switched Terry Mac from a journeyman right midfielder into a central midfielder who could run "box to box" and support the strikers with lethal effect. With Ray Kennedy throwing his left foot bombs in and around the penalty area this made the most of Terry Mac's boundless energy. A bad injury to Phil Thompson curtailed his season. The "soon to be retired" Tommy Smith was drafted in to his place. John Toshack's days were numbered as his number of thigh injuries were gradually catching up with him. The League was won with a lot more ease than it had been the previous season. The Double was thwarted by Manchester United. Then came the glory that was Rome!

David Johnson's erratic form and a poor display in the Cup Final meant Ian Callaghan took his place in Rome. A midfielder for a striker? Negative? Not a bit of it! Bob's tactics paid off handsomely as we ran out 3-1 winners against BMG. Terry Mac's goal justified just why he was in the team. I don't think even Bob though would have claimed a tactical "assist" with Tommy Smith's goal! Keegan though, in his greatest ever display for Liverpool, was running Bertie Vogts and co ragged with his non-stop running and aggression, again part of Bob's tactical plan. Vogts in the end was so tired of Kevin running at him that he conceded the penalty, which sealed our first European Cup. Bob didn't touch a drop of alcohol that night as he said he wanted to savour the victory rather than have his brain befuddled. The same couldn't be said for the fans though, or the players for that matter!

Who would replace Keegan? That was the question on all Liverpool fans lips during the summer of '77. Maybe no one. Maybe Bob would just switch things round a bit. Kenny Dalglish? Who he? Oh yeah, scored a few goals for Celtic. Also took the mickey out of England, Ray Clemence in particular, on more than one occasion. Bit overpriced though maybe at a British club record fee of £440,000.

With Bob's help Kenny was to become the greatest player ever to pull on a Liverpool shirt. Arguably also the greatest British player ever. A letter in the Echo from a lady, who was a Celtic supporter said, "Kenny's smile will light up Anfield when he scores." Was she right or what?! Never much of a smile from Kenny at any other time but when he, or indeed any other Liverpool player scored, that smile could light up the Mersey, never mind Anfield!

Bob signed another young Jock from Partick Thistle. Apparently this lad was great at every sport. You name it he'd represented Scotland at some level: Football, cricket, basketball, volleyball. He could even have been a professional golfer. One of those annoying people who was good at everything. He did though have a penchant for running naked on Blackpool beach! Name? Alan "Jocky" Hansen.

"Jocky" played a number of games early in the season as replacement for the injured Emlyn Hughes and Phil Thompson. Bit gangly and wasn't a bad player but nothing special. Bob reluctantly waved Tosh off to Swansea, as the big Welshman's persistent injuries finally put paid to his Liverpool career. A depressing run of results in November (again) highlighted the need for a new central midfield player, as the ageing Cally wasn't quite doing it any more. A third round FA Cup defeat at Chelsea saw Bob take immediate action. Graeme Souness was signed from Middlesbrough.

Unlike a lot of players Souness took no time at all to settle in to life at Anfield. He became an almost instant hero with a stunning volleyed goal against Manchester United at Anfield, which won the BBC Goal of the Season award. A big bear of a man with the touch of a violinist he could hit a ball like it had been fired from a cannon. He was as mad as Rasputin in the tackle, very rarely coming out without the ball, and sometimes the man! He could also caress a ball with all the gentleness of Casanova seducing a young lover. In short the complete player. Bob had done it again!

With all hope of domestic glory gone it was off to Wembley to defend the European Cup. Ah well, you can't have everything. A freak injury had ruled out Tommy Smith so the young Scottish streaker was called up in his place. Not a trace of nerves from young Hansen. He looked the complete centre-half, as the Bruges forwards had no effect whatsoever. Further up the field the other two Scottish maestros were doing their bit. Souness played the sweetest of touches to Dalglish, which had "please score" written all over it. Kenny duly obliged by kidding Jensen, the Bruges goalie, that he was about to shoot. As Jensen dived Kenny lifted the ball ever so gently over him before disappearing over the advertising hoardings to celebrate in front of his adoring public. Bob, by bringing vital new players in, had masterminded his second European Cup success.

No cup successes the following season but the League statistics told their own story: 68 points. 85 goals scored. Only 16 conceded. In spite of the dearth of cups many people believe this to be Liverpool's best ever team. After all, League performance is the yardstick by which any team should be judged. David Johnson had responded to several kicks up the backside from Bob, finishing the season with 16 league goals, second only to Kenny who was five in front of him.

In defence the previously gawky Hansen had, by astute coaching, been turned into a top-class centre-half. His seemingly effortless command of the middle of defence belied a touch of steel reminiscent of another Scottish centre-half, "Rowdy" Yeats. Alongside him was the redoubtable, though coming to the end of his Liverpool days, Emlyn Hughes. Emlyn was Bob's captain and was everything on the pitch that Bob was off it. Bob though was grooming another captain to replace Crazy Horse in Phil Thompson. Phil tossed up with a sparrow for a pair of legs and an eagle for a nose, losing both times, but was like a vulture in the tackle!

A player had also replaced Joey Jones as equally unblessed in the marbles department. "Barney Rubble" by nickname and "Barney Rubble" by nature, Alan Kennedy was another of the "brick wall" school. Bob knew you didn't have to be a great player to play for the Reds. Liverpool had a great TEAM.

[liamo3]

cont.


Season '79-'80 saw Bob sign Israeli international Avi Cohen from Maccabi Tel Aviv. Avi was of the Jewish faith. It was said at first that Avi would be unable to play on a Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. When Bob was asked how he felt about an experienced international being unable to play for Liverpool on a Saturday Bob replied, "There's a few internationals can't get a game for us on a Saturday so he won't be on his own!"

The League was again won with a bit to spare. The preferred eleven of: Clemence, Neal, Alan Kennedy, Thompson, Ray Kennedy, Hansen, Dalglish, Case, Johnson, McDermott and Souness missed only 28 games between them. Bob's continuity policy was long before the days of squad rotation!

Bob started to give youth it's chance in season '80-'81. Sammy Lee, who had played a handful of games over the previous three seasons, became a regular in the first team. Colin Irwin played in almost half the League matches. Kevin Sheedy played a couple of games. Howard Gayle was brought into some games with great effect, most notably the European Cup semi-final second leg away to Bayern Munich. Ronnie Whelan scored on his debut, his only appearance that season, against Stoke. Oh yes, I nearly forgot, a young lad was signed from Chester for £300,000: Ian Rush.

Rushie's debut was at Ipswich wearing the number 7 shirt vacated by the injured Kenny. When David Johnson was injured early in the game the bizarre front pairing was Rush and Sammy Lee! Enough to strike terror in to the heart of any defence, never mind the then England centre-half pairing of Butcher and Osman, a gawky kid making his debut and a 5 foot ballboy lookalike? I think not! Great days though were ahead of Rushie.

Rushie first caught the eye in the League Cup Final replay that season against West Ham at Villa Park. He didn't score but he starred in the 2-1 victory. He looked every inch an experienced centre-forward. He was giving instructions to far more experienced players. He even had the confidence to hand out a rollicking to Kenny Dalglish for a misplaced pass!

On the debit side Frank McGarvey had been and gone without ever playing in the first team. Richard Money had been signed but didn't do much at all. Bob didn't always get it right!

Patchy League form meant that we only finished fifth (tut tut Bob, what are you doing?). We had though reached the European Cup Final. En route we had big wins against Oulu Palloseura in which both Souness and McDermott scored hat tricks. The then pride of Scotland, Aberdeen, were next but were beaten at their own Pittodrie by another Goal of the Season from Terry Mac. The much-fancied CSKA Sofia tried their luck but were comprehensively thrashed 5-0 at Anfield with Souness scoring a hat trick in his best ever display for Liverpool. The Bulgarians were simply ripped apart by our aggression and passion. Bob had obviously told the lads to get stuck in right from the start. One worrying moment though was when Souness and Terry Mac were caught kissing during a goal celebration! A charge of importuning in the penalty area might have been on the cards!

A backs-to-the-wall display was needed at Bayern Munich after the disappointment of a goalless draw at Anfield in the first leg of the semi-final. Bayern kicked lumps out of us. An early injury casualty was Kenny Dalglish. In another of Bob's masterful tactical ploys he brought on Howard Gayle to run the Bayern defence a merry dance down the wing. The Bayern defenders were so obsessed with kicking Howard, which was the only way they could think of to stop him, they were leaving gaps in the middle. Johnson set up Ray Kennedy (two more of the walking wounded) for the decisive goal. Bob then replaced Gayle with Case. Howard had done his job!

So to the final in Paris. A pretty dire game was settled by a screamer from none other than "empty head" Barney Rubble. Bob's third European Cup success; the only British manager ever to have achieved this.

Rumours of a scandal, leading to player unrest, rocked the club during the summer of '81. Result was that both Ray Clemence and Jimmy Case left the club. Who did Bob replace them with? Two other top-flight experienced players? Err.. no. Bruce Grobbelaar and Craig Johnston. Johnno (or Skippy because of his Aussie background) had been noted while at Middlesbrough for his tenacious play. On the other hand, little was known about Brucie other than he had fought guerrillas in the Zimbabwean army and actually killed a few. Oh yeah, and he was as mad as a hatter, which seemed to be a pre-requisite of being signed by Bob at the time. Mark Lawrenson was also signed from Brighton to form a three man defensive partnership with Thompson and Hansen: another switch in tactics, which Bob had seen was required.

Johnston became yet another player to find it hard to settle into a first team place at Anfield. Meanwhile, Brucie's erratic goalkeeping was causing concern. This manifested itself to such an extent that in possibly Brucie's worst ever performance for Liverpool we were humiliated 1-3 at home by Manchester City on Boxing Day. With the Reds down to eleventh place and no chance of winning the League (!) drastic action was required. What did Bob do? Replace Grobbelaar? No, Bob knew that he had a gem in Brucie, he just had to be persevered with. Bob took the unusual step of changing captains in mid-season. Okay, Thommo was upset when the leadership was taken away from him but Bob's decision to make Souness his first in command on the pitch proved to be totally justified.

One of Bob's decisions at the time was to let Kevin Sheedy leave for Everton where he would be guaranteed first team football. Mind you, I would have been guaranteed first team football at Goodison at that time! Seriously, eyebrows were raised as to the wisdom of Bob's decision. Bob though had clearly seen in Ronnie Whelan some qualities that had been lacking in Sheedy. Sheedy went on to become a great player at Everton, no doubt about that, but I think we got the better end of Bob's decision on that one.

With Souness at the helm on the pitch and youngsters Rush and Whelan putting in stirring performances seemingly every game things soon started to turn. Brucie started to look the great goalkeeper that Bob always knew he was.

The League Cup Final at Wembley against Spurs seemed to be going the way of the Londoners who led for most of the game after an early goal from Archibald. That was until three minutes from the end when Sammy Lee played a forty yard ball to Whelan that, had the media darling from Tottenham, Glenn Hoddle, played it would have had camera crews, commentators and football writers in paroxysms of delight. Ronnie smashed the ball high into the net to send the game to extra-time.

Cue Bob the motivator and psychologist. Obviously all the players from both sides were very tired. Bob though told all our lads to stay on their feet during the interval between full time and the extra thirty minutes. We had the upper hand now; let's keep it that way. Don't let the Spurs players see we were tired. Meanwhile, the Tottenham players looked a spent force. Lying all over the pitch, cramped-up muscles being massaged back to life. Manager and coaching staff putting consoling arms around the players, they did indeed look a sorry lot. Our players on the other hand looked raring to go. So it proved as another goal from Ronnie Whelan and one from Rushie confirmed our second successive League Cup success. Bob had pulled off a psychological stroke that Shanks himself would have been proud of.

The last 25 League games of the season saw just two defeats and three draws. Bob's fifth League Championship was confirmed with a game to spare as Tottenham were defeated 3-1 at Anfield.

Bob announced at the start of the 1982-83 season that he was to retire at the end of the season. He had done virtually everything he could as manager and wanted to take a well-earned retirement. Could he go out on a winning note? You bet he could!

Bob made two signings before the start of the season. To be honest, the signing of David Hodgson from Middlesbrough was fairly baffling. This move never really worked out for either player or club. On the other hand, Steve Nicol (he of the size 14 boots) was signed from Ayr United. Although Steve played only a handful of games under Bob, the great man had seen enough potential to realise that here was a star for the future. Bob, as usual wasn't wrong; Steve went on to become a Liverpool legend.

Phil Thompson's persistent injury problems were to see him gradually phased out as Bob opted to return to a two man centre-half defensive strategy.

Bob's assault on a third successive League Cup, a feat no other club, never mind manager had achieved in the competition's history, culminated in the Final at Wembley against Manchester United. With fifteen minutes to go and United leading by an early Whiteside goal Bob used his secret weapon. Send Barney Rubble up! Barney duly obliged with an equalising rocket. The game was won by a Ronnie Whelan special eight minutes into extra time.

Souness, as captain, graciously allowed Bob to climb Wembley's thirty-nine steps ahead of him to lift the cup. Bob later described it as the proudest moment of his life. Well done to Souness for allowing this but even more well done to Bob for having the foresight, fifteen months earlier, of appointing this leader of men as the captain of his team.

In spite of picking up only two points from the last seven matches we were so far ahead of everybody else that Bob's sixth League Championship was secured well before the end of April.

Bob's last signing was Michael Robinson from Brighton. Hmm… as I said, he didn't always get it right!

So there you have it; a tribute to Bob Paisley from a fan's point of view. In a 44 year association with Liverpool Football Club Bob Paisley saw and done it all. Player, physio, trainer, coach, counsellor, motivator, loyalist, psychologist, disciplinarian, tactician but above all else, with six League Championships, three League Cups, one UEFA Cup and three European Cups, Bob was, quite simply, the most successful manager ever in the history of British football.

Bob Paisley R.I.P.

Peter Evo.

[JohnM_RedRock]

Had a word with Alan Kennedy before today's game...his mum still lives in the area and he comfirmed that there is no memorial to the great man at Hetton-le-hole. He added that it would be a great idea and I'm sure he would give us some help and support.

[rodderzzz]

crackin idea, something needs to be done.

[Daveyred]

Great idea Barnieslad.

[wattie]

Cheers for posting that, DontBuyTheSun...(liamo3), absolute cracking read.

 "Bob though was grooming another captain to replace Crazy Horse in Phil Thompson. Phil tossed up with a sparrow for a pair of legs and an eagle for a nose, losing both times, but was like a vulture in the tackle! "


Loving that.

And whats the story re jockey running down Blackpool beach naked.

Think my Dad has told me the story years ago but I cant remember it for the life of me.

[Ben]

sounds like a great idea, would love to get in on that. well done people.

[barnieslad]

Had a word with Alan Kennedy before today's game...his mum still lives in the area and he comfirmed that there is no memorial to the great man at Hetton-le-hole. He added that it would be a great idea and I'm sure he would give us some help and support.

Absolutely brilliant work there John, and I know that WillieBob is going to try and find out from the council. Again, brilliant work.

Does anyone know any of the lads that set up the Shankly memorial up at Glenbuck? I'm sure someone off here mentioned that he knew them or they where related in some way.

[WillieBob]

Had a word with Alan Kennedy before today's game...his mum still lives in the area and he comfirmed that there is no memorial to the great man at Hetton-le-hole. He added that it would be a great idea and I'm sure he would give us some help and support.

Good bit of info that, i'll double double check this with Hetton Council and report back asap.

[porttroop]

And whats the story re jockey running down Blackpool beach naked.

Think my Dad has told me the story years ago but I cant remember it for the life of me.

In the pre season when he first signed for the Reds he got done for having a Pee in public somewhere in Blackpool.

I think he got a fine.

First home game was brill.As the teams ran out 28000 kopites sang as one

"Alan Hansen pissed at Blackpool La lal la la   LA LA "

[porttroop]

Be great that Ian if something could be sorted.

Whenever we play in the North East my mate always stays n Hetton and goes the working mens club where Bobs family friends all drink.They are always treated like Royalty.

Hope Bev can book a hotel as good as the one she got for Glenbuck.

[barnieslad]

Be great that Ian if something could be sorted.

Whenever we play in the North East my mate always stays n Hetton and goes the working mens club where Bobs family friends all drink.They are always treated like Royalty.

Hope Bev can book a hotel as good as the one she got for Glenbuck.

It was Philo that booked that hotel Jackie but your right, he did us proud there. He also sorted the transport out so if we get another trip going next summer he's gonna be everybody's best mate all over again 

Interesting what you say about your mate staying up there. Obviously we all loved Bob but you'd never know with the locals in Hetton.

Doesn't his lad have something to do with Liverpool Cricket Club or something? I'm sure I read that in the echo a while back.

[Felts]

He done so much for the club winning so many trophies he is a true legend!!!!

[philo]

It was Philo that booked that hotel Jackie but your right, he did us proud there. He also sorted the transport out so if we get another trip going next summer he's gonna be everybody's best mate all over again 

Interesting what you say about your mate staying up there. Obviously we all loved Bob but you'd never know with the locals in Hetton.

Doesn't his lad have something to do with Liverpool Cricket Club or something? I'm sure I read that in the echo a while back.

i got a feeling we would need more than a minibus this time mate. Would be boss if a memorial could be orginised and a trip to unveil it.

[barnieslad]

OK everyone heres where we're at up to now. We still await a proper response from Hetton Council and we've yet to speak to other parties about this subject. Things are obviously at a very delicate stage at the moment but as soon as things become more clear then I'll let everybody know in this thread.

If anyone has any strong opinions on this subject then please PM me on here. In the meantime we'll see how far we can go before we make any promises to anyone. At the moment we'd really like to keep this low key.

Thanks for your patience

Ian.

[wattie]

In the pre season when he first signed for the Reds he got done for having a Pee in public somewhere in Blackpool.

I think he got a fine.

First home game was brill.As the teams ran out 28000 kopites sang as one

"Alan Hansen pissed at Blackpool La lal la la   LA LA "

Cheers for that, mate.

My Dad told me the story a few years ago but it totally escaped me..

[Mottman]

John Wayne, the Living Dead and pure Pandemonium

Charity Shield 14 August 1976

Liverpool 1 v Southampton 0

Attendance 76,500

After Bob Paisley's first league title clinched at Wolves, and victory in Europe in the Final of the UEFA Cup against FC Bruges in May, a scorching summer was followed by a visit to Wembley for the 1976 Charity Shield against Southampton. This is my story of another eventful trip to North London.

Like most like minded I loved going to Wembley, after all it was “The Mecca” that we had all be brought up to respect.  It didn’t matter that it was the Charity Shield.  To me the Charity Shield has always meant that the Tricky Reds had been successful and it was another day out to represent the City of Liverpool and have a laugh and joke along the way. It had been two years since we'd last visited Anfield South when Bremner and Keegan had been sent off for fighting in the season's traditonal curtain-opener, showing a distinct lack of charity but instead some great uppercuts.

The trip to Belgium had made a huge indent into the savings anyone had in them days, indeed many people were still paying back to parents and that for months and months afterwards. I was fortunate; I had a “good job” which paid decent money so I together with my mates didn’t struggle as much as some of the other lads we knew. Match tickets for the Charity Shield first went on sale to Season Ticket holders then of course General Sale. A few of us had Season Tickets so we were sorted, a couple of the lads didn’t; they were getting a bit twitchy “You’ll be alright, we’ll box it off” was the reassuring response.

Anyway, four of us booked this weekend package deal through the Echo. This included train travel down to the smoke on the Friday afternoon two nights four star accommodation in a hotel near Wembley and of course travel back home anytime on the Sunday.

In season 1975–76 red and white rugby shirts were the rage, time to dust mine down again and put on a show of colour and passion, it looked superb when a large mob of us were together all dressed up in these, it looked intimidating.

John Wayne's saddlebags

Friday morning, you box all your gear ready for 3 days and 2 nights away. I hated packing for trips like this, I always took too much.  Let’s see 2 pair of Bill Grundies (check) 3 pairs of socks (check) 1 clean t-shirt (check) an 1 decent shirt (check); done and dusted in one minute, lob them into a plassie Co-op bag and you're sorted.

Ya get downstairs and your Mum says "here ya are here’s something to eat", cheers Mum. I’ve got 101 butterflies flying around my stomach (due to nervous excitement) this is the last thing I need. Anyway, scoff forced down, mountains of butties in the arl Co-op bag and it’s soon time for the off.

A couple of phone calls to check all is well, yeah I’ve got me key see ya on Sunday or Monday whenever. Meet some of the lads in the Marion Square. Have you got your money? Have you got your Ticket? Quick dash to Ashe & Nephews to procure some liquid refreshment for the trip to the smoke and the 28 bus to Lime Street for another journey with the Tricky Reds.

Once on the “Ordinary” it was time for the merriment to commence. “Tsssk”, the first can is opened and necked in record time. "Aaarrrr" that was dead sound that. What was it? It didn’t matter, it hit the spot, give us another. On and on the relentless attack took place on the unsuspecting liquid refreshment; by the time we hit Rugby most of it had been well necked. 

The journey continued, all the daily papers well read, time to get the cards out. Ok says one of the lads “We’ll only play for coppers, maximum bet 10 pence” - we didn’t want to waste our ale money before we hit Town.

To be honest, I’m crap at cards always have been, always will be. Somehow I ends up with the most coin as we hit the outskirts of London. “Howabout winner takes it all” a voice says? I’m delighted I don’t want to be walking the streets of London like Quasimodo overladen with copper.

You already know the outcome of this one, “yeah superb” I end up winning the final hand with several quid’s worth of bronze! For once I’d wished I’d lost my lucky touch.

Stumbling out of Wembley High Street station (John Wayne had nothing on me) we head off for the Esso Penta Hotel. Jesus it’s only about 300 yards from Wembley Stadium itself. The receptionist is very thorough checking our hotel tickets as the insults start to fly. “What time do ya finish love, do ya fancy a bevvie?” The girl looks up at four cherub faced Scousers “You can laugh you know love, it won’t crack your make up.” “Do you do any tricks love, I like tricks?” I turned around and told the lads to shut-up! “Do ya wanna get us booted out of here before were in?” “Well I was only speaking my mind now’t wrong with that, these London bird’s love a bit of rough.” “Shut-up will ya? Lets get this sorted ya mooncat.”

Anyway all sorted, Mr Ashcroft and Mr Hall in room 406, Mr Pie and Mr Nunney in room 608. “I don’t wanna be on the sixth floor I’m scared of heights” “Ian shut it, we’ll sort it out later on?” We didn’t, it’s funny how the ale helps you to forget your fears!

Would you gentlemen like someone to show you to your rooms (I think, yes love a couple of dolly birds dressed in all the gear on would be really superb) “No thank you love I think we're old enough to find the fourth floor, it’s upstairs isn’t it!" comes a voice from the back.  “What time do ya finish?” No, no, no Ian, leave it mate she’s got the personality of a Mick Channon cardboard cut-out you can do better than that.

Lift upstairs to the fourth floor, gets out and say’s “We’ll travel to the sixth in five minutes or so and have a look.” Once into the room we both head for the window and take in Wembley Stadium, filth and all.  Considering it was the National Stadium it was always a scruffy place to visit, it was like a ghost town with only a couple of kids playing football in one of the car parks – tomorrow would be very different.

Walks up the two flights of stairs and knocks on 608. "Alright Ian were is Alan"? "Don’t know, threw his gear on his bed and went out with his plassie bag." Shakes head “what is he up to now?” Hotel door opens, in walks Alan with a grin like a Cheshire cat, "Shut the door now he screams. I’ve got some gear for us I just found it lying on the floor." “Go on then lets see what you’ve got” He empties out 30 to 40 small bottles of whisky together with 15–20 packets of No 6. “Where did you find them?” someone said “They were on the floor on the tenth floor, so I just borrowed them.”

The ciggies were handed out to those that smoked and the miniature bottles were necked amongst us “come on then show us were you found them” “Not yet wait for the hotel people to clean up the glass” “What glass?” boomed out in univision! “The glass from the ciggie machine and from the drinks machine on the tenth floor” “You said they were on the floor, what did you do?”  “Well I was having a walkabout to see what was what and I noticed these machines on the wall, so I took me trainee off and whacked both of them with it and collected the stuff off the floor”. The boy’s are back in Town and have made some impression within a matter of minutes.

“Lets go downstairs and get these empty bottles off the premises and go for an ale” - sounds like a good idea. Booty disposed of, back into the hotel bar to have a swift pint and check the place out. “I’ll get them in” I say, “it’s deffo my round.” Here, you mate, four pints of larger for four thirsty Scousers. The lad seems alright as he sorts the ales out “That will be blah blah £ for the beers Sir” “That’s no probs mate give us a hand to count this copper”. His face drops as I eventually manage to empty both pockets of slummy and stack it into piles of twenty pence. “I’m not allowed to accept so much copper at once” he says “You’d better accept it lad or your in big trouble if you don’t” he quickly counts the copper and the menace in the air lifts.

Part of this package includes an evening meal and breakfast, so we sit ourselves down and order more ale and the food. In the meantime the table next to ours has some faces we know. It’s the Corpy bus drivers from the depot in Linacre Lane out on a trip to watch the Tricky Reds “Alright lads having a good time and the such” are soon exchanged. These blokes were superb to us, I don’t know how many times they let us bunk the bus to or from the match or town. They seemed really old to us back then, at that time they were probably in their early 30s. Soon, like the ale, the banter flowed, one of them mentioned that they had stayed here before and that after 12.00 at night only one bar tender was about. They told us about a little trick they had sussed out. At a given time one of them would go back to their room and ring down for a pint as room service. The bar man would take the pint upstairs whilst one of them kept Dixie and the others poured out free pints and chasers then helped themselves to a couple of bob and a few ciggies.

We fell about the place, laughing our gonads off. We loved all that, it was always how can we beat the system and if I’m honest for many it still is when the opportunity arises.

As the night progressed the behaviour of certain individuals became more and more outlandish. Bets were placed on how far people could walk on their hands without falling over (busmen included). Bearing in mind that this was in the restaurant section, what with the proximity of tables and chairs, it was a recipe for disaster (Don’t forget normal people were still trying to eat their meals whilst this madness continued). We didn’t give a toss, we were in our early twenties and no one was going to tell us how to behave.

That night we stayed in the hotel and enjoyed the hospitality of this multi-national hotel group. Time after time packets of ciggies and bottles of spirits were whisked away where no man could find. We hid ours in a plassie bag, hung on the window latch covered by a huge Liverpool flag. As the night progressed more and more Scousers booked into the hotel. You could tell they were Scousers, they had an air of excitement about them, and a knowing glint in their eye.  As you do, we got bored of knocking off the gaff so we decided to go and play hide and seek in the hotel, like any 20 and 30 year old would do.  Off we go! 2 o’clock in the morning busmen in tow, up the lifts. I have seen some sights in my time following the reds, but the sight of several drunken gets sneaking along the hotel corridor then knocking on a door an legging it takes some beating.  A couple had fits of laughter and we had to carry them to make our escape, once out the way we fell about the place laughing our heads off.

Now the hotel had a flight of stairs at the back (rarely used) so we sneaked down and checked that the fella who was “man” was not about - like little mice we were. No sign at all, so we sat down back in our places as if nothing had happened, having a pint and that “Where do you reckon Tommy is then?” Tommy the 30 old bus driver was probably on the fifth floor sneaking about trying to suss where everyone was “Give him another half an hour an if he doesn’t show up we’ll go and find him” “It’ll do his co-ordination skills no harm, the daft so and so is always getting lost when driving his bus” another replied.

Sometime later Tommy turns up with his face like thunder, “You right shower of bastards how long have you been down here?"  “Here get this down yer neck and sit yer self down here.” The lads grab him, mess up his hair and start poking him in the ribs, any ill feeling is soon lost as the morning fast approaches. Around half three we all tip toe upstairs (swapping shoes that had been left outside doors for cleaning) and go and get our heads down to replenish energies for tomorrows caper. I laughed myself to sleep.

The Living Dead

Now then, in them days I used to start work at 7.00 in the morning and was used to getting up at 6.00 to sort myself out and get to work. I awoke at 6.00 with red eyes and a spinning headache. Once up I can never go back to bed. I went downstairs and asked the night porter for some tablets and a glass of water then went for a walk. The sun was cracking the flags. What had been an empty car park was very slowly filling up, as cars, vans and coaches began to arrive for the match. Daily papers sorted, back to the room for a quick shave, shower and a shite, then downstairs for a good greasy fry up. One by one the living dead stumbled into the restaurant, few words spoken, just acknowledgement by sight was enough.

We sat around the hotel for a few hours as people’s senses and recollections of the night’s antics began to slowly return. Anyway, come 11.30 the bar was opened and the beer marathon was about to commence again. After a few jars we said “tara” to the corpie busmen as we wanted to have a look around an' that. 

Walking around Wembley the faces of the people were lit up, everybody was in their element, the place was buzzing and the people where happy. We didn’t see any Southampton supporters, everywhere you looked were Scousers having a laugh, singing their heads off and supping cans of warm ale.

We had to go back to the hotel to collect stuff, money, tickets and flags etc. Up to the ground we walked, mingling in with a few Saints supporters. It struck me that most of them were Dads and Lads, they didn’t have any "boys" like us, if they did we didn’t see any. “Daddies boy” came from a familiar voice behind me, aimed at a Southampton lad walking up with his Dad. “Daddies boy is going to see his team get battered by Liverpool today” was snarled out. We laughed at first, then realised that most if not all of the Southampton supporters were cacking it walking amongst us. "Leave it out! They haven’t a clue."

Once in the ground we made our way upstairs to our section, the view was superb as we watched the crowd take their place. Around 2.30 the crescendo of noise from the Liverpool end grew and grew; you couldn’t hear the Southampton fans, the noise we created was too loud. After the match the official gate was given as 76,500, we knew this was incorrect as we heard stories on how lads had got in buckshee.

The teams walked out together, the noise was incredible. We rose as one to acclaim the Champion’s of Europe elect. The place went absolutely ballistic, it was a two-way relationship we loved the team and they loved us. No other set of football supporters ever had a relationship or a bond like that of Liverpool FC and the Spion Kop.     

Some no mark dignitary was introduced to the crowd as “Abide with me” was played over the tannoy system. Quick as a flash we jumped up on a barrier and showed our Liverpool flag to the watching World. We knew what was about to happen.

“You’ll Never Walk Alone” boomed out from the travelling Koppites, easily outsinging the tannoy system and the Southampton supporters. “You’ll Never Walk Alone” came from a special place in your heart. In my opinion no one ever sang it better, we meant every word of it, this was Liverpool FC, this was for life.

We stood on the barrier one hand holding one end of the flag, with the other hand clenched as an act of defiance and a show of strength.  “God save the Queen” was also played that day and we didn’t hear a word of it. “God save our Team” boomed out and echoed around the ground from those from the Mersey.

The match was basically just a pre-season friendly with both teams keeping the game at a slow tempo, it’s a good job they did, the heat inside Wembley was intense. Big John Toshack scored the only goal of the game to secure the Charity Shield and add it to our already bulging trophy room.  At the final whistle the Spion Kop erupted like only the Spion Kop could, whilst the Southampton players and supporters clapped and acknowledged that they had been beaten twice, both on and off the pitch.

As we got out the ground we bumped into Frano and Jono, two younger lads from Netherton “Alright bollox, what are ya doing down here?” “Errrrrr watching the Reds like, and yourself?" “Oh, just came down here for a bit of shark fishing” ... you can’t beat a bit of sarcasm.

Anyway, we’re walking along having a gab an' that when Jono starts bleating like a sheep “Baaaaaaaaaa” “Whats up with you soft Arse” “I’m just winding all these country bumpkins up, I can’t stand so called supporters like them”  "Leave it Jono they are doing nothing."

“O we don’t have tractors on the Kop, we don’t have tractors on the Kop, we don’t have tractors, we don’t have tractors, we don’t have tractors on the Kop" a few others join in. This is soon echoed along the way as the multitude join in.

The Southampton supporters in the crowd were OK with it, they had no other option as they were heavily outnumbered. Enough of that madness, back to the hotel for a quick pint, a bite to eat and a change of clothes, with Frano and Jono now in tow.

“Can I use the phone” Frano says to us. “Alright help yerself” “Hello Mum I’m down in London an' won’t be home till tomorrow, can you tell Steve’s (Jono) Mum he’s with me as well?” Frano puts the phone down and says “It’s OK if we sleep on the floor of your room tonight isn’t it?” “Yeah go ahead lad, the more the merrier, but we’ll have to think about this.”

We sat down and found out that between them they had about five quid, that wasn’t going to last them long and they hadn’t eaten anything since the left Liverpool early that Saturday morning. Now then, rather than try and sneak into the restaurant and blag a couple of meals, we decided to turn up mob handed and take it as it came. The six of us sat around a huge table that had been set up and just helped ourselves, nobody asked any questions, so the lads were sorted. We bought them a few scoops but this couldn’t continue, so we came up with the idea of selling some of our Teacher’s whisky (or rather let Frano and Jono sell it, outside the hotel of course).

We let both of them into our room so they could have a shower, and sort themselves out, refreshed and with Jono wearing my T-shirt it was time to hit the centre of London.  There must have been around 15–16 of us at this stage (the busmen had the same idea as us). We reached the deserted tube station, Wembley Central, and all of us bunked the tube.

We got off at Piccadilly and headed for the first boozer we saw - it was full of like minded thirsty Scousers. The bar staff where awful, they didn’t like us and we didn’t like being treated like shite, so it was time to see how tolerant they were. We had seen and heard what was about to happen before, at away games were our bar hosts had been awkward or snotty. 

Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiii
verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr
poooooooooooooooooo oooooooool

Sung so that the three parts of it took minutes rather than seconds, started and on and on it went. We effectively nullified the jukebox and any possibility of conversation. We decided to bugger off and walked out across a mountain of broken pint glasses, this was going to get nasty and we weren’t in the mood for any of that.

Next pub was a lot more user-friendly, a good mixture of locals and our lot. We started talking to these three blokes (2 cockneys and a Geordie) the cockneys reckoned they were Chelsea and tried to say they were the hardest supporters in the U.K. We decided to tell them a few home truths, “How come you only ever bring 100 or so up to Anfield?” “Same as West Ham, Arsenal, QPR, Spurs etc, you like to talk to talk the talk, but none of you can walk the walk.” The much older cockneys didn’t expect that, they didn’t say anything and neither did we, we waited for some sort of response – nothing. 

The Geordie broke the tension by saying c’mon lads we’re only here like you to have a drink and a gab. This did calm things down a touch but all eyes we’re still on the cockneys.  After a while one of the lads say’s “C’mon lets move on and out” and en masse we move out, walking along singing our heads off “The Liverpool boys are in Town,” oh yes we were.

Anyway, the streets seemed to be full of drunken Scousers, all intent on having a laugh. God only knows how many we took down to London that weekend. 

Further up this Road by the statue of Eros (proudly wearing a Liverpool scarf) we notice this bloke lying on the pavement by the edge of the road. “It’s probably some tramp sleeping off a heavy session” one of the lad’s says, but it wasn’t. The bloke had no colour in his face, he was as white as a ghost. One of the lads who had joined up with our ever increasing mob was Neil (a nurse or something from the Walton Vale area), he loosened the blokes clothing and tried his best to resuscitate him.

We stood around as a couple of other lads tried their best to help. Just then a police car came to a screeching halt, all lights and sirens flashing. The two coppers jumped over the railings straight to the body “Alright boy’s what are you up too?” “We found this bloke just lying on the pavement and tried to help him.” The two coppers examined the body and confirmed our worst fears; he was dead.

One of the copper’s said “I don’t know, you robbing Scousers going through the pockets of a dead man” the crowd went ballistic and rounded on the copper each one of us telling him he was way out of order and too get his facts straight! “Alright calm yourselves down, I was only messing.” This got the crowd even angrier, “You callous cockney bastard, that’s someone’s son, perhaps someone’s husband, brother or father.” “Look lads I see this time after time after time, every day of the week,” he said. The other copper intervened and told his colleague to get in the car. “Look lads I’ll apologise for his behavior, he was way off the mark, I saw everything and I know you were trying to help.”  This was a little comfort to the crowd but at least this copper showed some compassion and seemed to care. “C’mon lets get off” one of the lads said as we slowly walked away.

The next few hours were largely subdued as we contemplated what had gone on before hand. In time we moved from pub to pub losing people along the way and finding them in the next boozer.

Anyway, some ridiculous hour of the early morning one of the lad’s says “Let’s get the tube back to the hotel and see what’s happening there.” The thought of how we were going to get back to the hotel hadn’t crossed my mind, and I was surprised to find that the tubes where still running. We got our free ride home to Wembley Central and walked the long walk back to the hotel.  A couple of the lads started singing Liverpool songs and this lifted flagging spirits, soon we were all giving it loads at the top of our voices.

We bounced along trying to wake everyone up but if we thought we were loud, the noise from the hotel was something else! You could tell everyone was having a laugh and over indulging as we following the tell tale trail of sick which led to the hotel.

It was like walking into a mad house (Russ Abbott would have swallowed his false teeth if he’d have seen this) the place was chocker block full of inebriated Scousers each intent on outdoing anything anyone else did. Blokes, old blokes mind, walking around bollo with undies on their heads; women with nothing on above they’re waists (apart from a No 6 hanging out from their gobs) playing strip jack naked. This is what we wanted, we didn’t feel out of sorts, we were amongst our own people. 

“How much money have you got left?” someone said; I knew I was all right I still had twenty quid in my No 6 ciggie packet and piles of slummy in my pocket. We gladly passed our slummy to Jono and Frano who by now had only coppers between them. “Four brown mixed please mate” I said and in amazement he sorted them for us (they didn’t tend to know what a brown mixed or what a brown bitter was down South). "Keep the change mate," all 20 odd pence of it.

We just sat and enjoyed what was going on, singing every Liverpool song known to man and dog. I awoke later that morning fully clothed on top of my bed, Graham was snoring like a trooper whilst Jono and Frano lay motionless on the floor covered in flags and coats.

The sunlight through the curtains hurt yer eyes as very slowly I began to realise that I was human. Jesus it was 9.00 in the morning, we had 30 minutes to get down before the breakfasts were stopped from being made, one by one the lads managed to regain consciousness but some couldn’t face the thought of food. What a difference a couple of hours had made - downstairs was in pristine condition, someone had worked a miracle.

Pure Pandemonium

The journey home meant we had to go to Euston to catch the ordinary home; the tube journey to Euston was eventful for the fact that no one was sick! How unexpected was that?!  I slept for most of the journey home (totally out of character for me) and was roused by some of the lads singing “The Liverpool boys are in Town.” We were back home in this dirty untidy place; we were back home in our Liverpool…. SUPERB!

That night we headed straight for the back lounge of the Park Hotel, Sundays were always a good night in there. We sat and tried to take it all in, but couldn’t.

It was at times pure pandemonium, a total farce; the best of times and the worst of times, I don’t regret one single thing from that trip it was an education.

[Marc]

Absolutely brilliant read. smiling my head off here.

[barnieslad]

Robbie that was brilliant mate 

I read it after work last night and it really brought back all the old wembley memories. It was really well written an all, I did nothing but laugh, cheers mate 

[scottyg]

Be boss if we get this off the ground. Vaguely remember discussing it with you at the party Ian. Be keeping a close eye on this thread, keep up the good work. 

[rob76]

I'll be up for this too. I also remember a hazy discussion on this one but I can't remember who it was with.

[RedNip]

Brilliant speech you made about this on Saturday night Ian & I think its a really great idea! If you needed any help or support I'd be more than willing to help you out in any little way I can.....

[barnieslad]

Be boss if we get this off the ground. Vaguely remember discussing it with you at the party Ian. Be keeping a close eye on this thread, keep up the good work. 

I'll be up for this too. I also remember a hazy discussion on this one but I can't remember who it was with.

Brilliant speech you made about this on Saturday night Ian & I think its a really great idea! If you needed any help or support I'd be more than willing to help you out in any little way I can.....

Hiya lads and thanks for the kind comments about my little speech. I turned into Nelson Mandela on Saturday night for a minute 

This was discussed by quite a few on the night and things where put in motion by Monday morning involving members of this board. I cannot stress enough though that we all need to hold our horses and be patient. I can assure all of you things are going in the right direction but up to now we're just asking the questions. Once there are any developments then I'll update on here, as promised.

Thanks very much for all the kind offers of help and it may well be needed in the future, but not just now. As you can imagine we need to ask certain people a few things and their privacy must be protected.

Please also bare in mind that if the proposal does make progress then it will be a slow process. With that in mind suggestions for the next OTK jolly would be appreciated.

One thing is for sure though, for the next OTK trip - in the manner of 'Jaws'......

"we're gonna need a bigger boat"