Showing posts with label Liverpool FC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liverpool FC. Show all posts

Tuesday 30 March 2021

Manchester United v Liverpool-The Good Friday Match Fixing Scandal.

 Old Trafford 2nd April 1915.  The Day The Beautiful Game Turned Ugly.

I was recently  asked to look over a very old FA cup runners up medal awarded to a Liverpool player.  Tommy Miller.

Growing up a stones throw from Anfield. I just had to take a closer look. It was a simple gold medal in a presentation box....but there seemed a bit more to this than first met the eye.

Tommy Miller had a habit of borrowing money he couldn’t pay back, so when his brother asked for Tommy to pay a debt, Tommy gave him his gold medal instead. The medal was made by VAUGHTON AND SONS and is hallmarked gold.

This passed down the family and eventually it turned up at a Antiques Roadshow valuation day at Culzean Castle, Scotland.

Tommy Miller was born in Motherwell. 

He played for Larkhill Hearts, Glenivan and Lanark Utd. Then Third Lanark and Hamilton Academicals (I always think they sound more like a University Challenge team than a football team) before moving on to Liverpool in the 1911-12 season. He had two brothers that also played the game.

He was the top scorer for Liverpool  in 1913-14 with 16 goals. He was 5 ft 9 inches, eleven and a half stone and described as a handy player. Tom Miller made 127 appearances scoring 52 goals. 

He played 19 FA cup games scoring 6 goals. He won a Scottish cap while playing for Liverpool.

This is a runners up medal for the FA cup for the season 1913-14. That match was won by Burnley 2-0.

This medal was awarded by King George V. The match was played pre Wembley at CRYSTAL PALACE. 

Ed Mosscrop playing for Burnley received a winners medal and this medal is in the Football Hall of Fame. Should this medal of Tommy Millers be in the Football Hall of Shame.

A man once said that some people think football is a matter of life and death. I can assure you that it is much more serious than that. And during the war.....it was.  If you were playing in the league you were not in the trenches, in France. In 1914 The Christmas truce was called and a football match was played in no mans land. Read More Here Football had become a universal game.

The FA Cup Final of 1915 year was named The Khaki Final as the whole crowd seemed to be in uniform.

While the war was on the top players were encouraged to take a pay cut in a spirit of brotherhood. Those on the maximum wage of £5 took a cut of 15% those earning £3 took a 5% cut.

The FA had written to the war office to ask for official sanction to continue playing the matches, but be prepared to stop at any time. Recruitment for the army was stepped up on match days. People were seen giving out white feathers to those who did not show their patriotic duty and go and fight. For King and Country. Cricket had been cancelled.

Public attacks in the national press especially from Dr Thomas Fry of Lincoln suggested that it was nothing more than financial greed that kept the season going.

He wanted restrictions in place preventing anyone under the age of 40 from entering a football ground.

He even sent a telegram which suggested that the monarch withdraw his patronage of the game.

It was thought that the war would suspend matches, thus ending the career of many players. Many thought this could be the last game they played, before going off to war.

2nd April 1915 The teams met at Old Trafford. THE GOOD FRIDAY GAME

18,000 people attended Old Trafford. The drop in receipts due to the war had put some clubs in financial peril.

An emergency meeting in Manchester by the football league on 9th October declared that an extra 2.5% of gross match receipts be made to the war effort.

The Good Friday game, it was said, was played in a uncertain manner and several chances were muddled.

“A more one sided first half would be hard to witness” One local reporter said.

The aptly named Thomas Fairfoul missed a penalty.

At 48 minutes a penalty was conceded against Liverpool after Bob Purcell handled it. 

Patrick O'Connell missed the goal completely. It was more like three points to Wigan as a Rugby kick was sky-ed into the stands. He walked back from the spot laughing to his colleagues.

At one time one Liverpool player, Fred Pagnam hit the crossbar with a shot and was and was chastised by his fellow players.

He was seen running around to get the ball and players from his own side wouldn't give it to him. 

The Manchester Daily Dispatch said “The second half was crammed with lifeless football. United were two up with 22 minutes to play and seemed content with their lead that they apparently never tried to increase it. Liverpool scarcely ever gave the impression that they were going to score.

George Anderson scored both goals for the Manchester United.

When the match ended players were seen to be waving betting slips around as the match finished. Others were seen arguing. The referee ordered an investigation into the match.

Four players were Scottish.

Liverpool had nothing on that season as they could neither win the league, nor be relegated. They were safe in 13th position in the league.

Bookmakers had laid odds of 8-1 against a 2-0 victory for United and a suspiciously large amount of bets had been placed that the odds shortened to 4-1. Something was wrong. The match was said to be SQUARED.

The bookie known as “The Football King promised a substantial reward for information that would lead to punishment of “the instigators of this reprehensible conspiracy”

The FA interviewed players one by one. The Good Friday commission was set up. The honesty and integrity of the game must be upheld.

It was said that several players held back the truth. It was found that several players had colluded to throw the match.

John McKenna the chairman of Liverpool was also the Chairman of the football league and later admitted he had been in an awkward position. He said "There can only be one decision for those who had been so callous as to bring the game into disrepute". 

He regretted the guilty decision had not come earlier. They had to be ousted from the game of football.

They concluded it had been a conspiracy by the players alone and that no match officials were involved. Neither club were fined or had points dropped.

Billy Merideth denied any knowledge of match fixing but stated that he became suspicious when none of his team mates would pass to him. 

Jackie Sheldon an ex United player was said to be the go between and Man Utd. 

Fred Pagnam said he had been offered £3 on route to the match in a Taxi.

It was Pagnam who threatened to score in the game despite threats from the ringleaders.

The FA said they sympathized with the clubs but they had substantial evidence that a betting scandal had taken place.

left to right.Thomas Fairfoul, Tom Miller, RR Purcell and Jackie Sheldon, of Liverpool

Sandy Turnbull, A Whalley and Enoch J (Knocker) West of Man Utd and L. Cook of Chester where implicated.

In total seven players were charged.



All were permanently suspended from taking part in football or football management, and should not be allowed to enter any football ground in the future. The report stated “There was grave suspicions that others were also involved but we have restricted our findings to those whose offence is beyond reasonable doubt”.

In...apparent patriotic gesture. They left the controversy behind.

Miller along with many of the players involved joined up to fight in the war.

Jackie Sheldon sent a letter to the press published in The Athletic News 10th April 1916 saying he was fighting in France. He claimed innocence and asked anyone with information about him placing a bet to come forward. Sandy Turnbull was killed.

In September 1916 Sheldon who had been wounded in France whist serving came home on leave. He wanted to go to Anfield to watch Liverpool play Burnley and even though he was banned was granted admittance, as a wounded soldier. He was told to, "stay away from the dressing rooms".

He later confessed his roll. 

Enoch West vociferously denied his innocence and sued the FA for libel in 1917. He lost his case and the ban stood but by this time matches had been stopped for the war.

AFTER THE WAR

2nd June 1919 the Liverpool players were pardoned. after they apologised. 

Because of the FA's “high appreciation of the great sacrifices and services of its members during the war and the deep gratitude for the success which had been achieved.

All except Enoch “Knocker” West were allowed to return to Football. West was the only player not allowed to return to playing maintaining his innocence and was punished further...... for being innocent.

He had to wait until 1945 for his ban to be lifted and a pardon.  By then he was 59 nearly 60.

That year Manchester Utd were saved from relegation and Chelsea went down.

Tom Millers career continued. He scored 13 goals in 25 starts in the 1919-20 season.

 In 1921 he started the season scoring 3 goals. Then he left the club......and in 1921 he went to play for......... Manchester Utd

There he won two further caps for Scotland.

Chelsea and Tottenham Hotspur who both had been relegated were returned to the 1st Division.............along with Arsenal who were 5th when the season finished.

It was agreed to expand the league by two teams....meaning no complaints from Chelsea. 

This also helped to merge the North and South divisions.

At the time of the scandal the Secretary of Manchester United and responsible for moving the team from Clayton to Old Trafford was JJ Bentley who had been a previous President of the football league. I recently came across his personalised season ticket. United had almost gone  bankrupt as he took over.  He retired in 1916. He died in 1918 aged 58. He left the club in a good financial position. He had been a founder of the Football League and once called the most influential man in football. In 1886, he left his Bolton accountant's office to work in Manchester as Assistant Editor, and later Editor, of  "The Athletic News". the publication that published the Jackie Sheldon letter that proclaimed his innocence. I wonder how much influence he had. 

THE GOOD FRIDAY MATCH SCANDAL. THE DAY THE BEAUTIFUL GAME TURNED UGLY.

Tom Millers Medal the one he gave away. Was it burning a hole in his hand? 

Did he feel guilty? We may never know.



Friday 12 June 2020

Liverpool The City That Knocked The Cavern Club Down, Then Called Itself Beatles Town.


I was born just off St Domingo Road in Everton, though it was nearer to the hallowed turf of Anfield. 
The proximity to Anfield is what provided me with my pocket money.
 I would mind cars on match day.
 It was great running up and down the street “Can I mind your car Sir”.
I would put my Liverpool scarf on early in the morning and we would have a little bit of territory in our cobbled street with which to work.
People were kind.

 It was a friendly gesture rewarded for the effort and enthusiasm. 
The drivers in would get out in their red and white scarves. They didn't have to give you a few coppers but I think it heightened match day for them.
There would be no cars in our street of a normal day. There wasn't anybody living there whose income could afford to run one.
 It showed you that if you tried a bit and were pleasant, you could earn a little bit. Which in turn made your life a bit better.
 Mainly in the ability to buy football cards that you could collect into an album. I can still remember the team goalkeeper was Tommy Lawrence, right up to Peter Thompson on the left wing. The beginning of collecting, maybe.
It was a friendly place, we knew everyone in the street. I still today can recall most of our neighbours names.
 The surrounding streets were pockmarked with missing houses that had been bombed during the war looking like missing teeth within a pretty girls smile. Other houses were shored up with timber.
We played war games amongst the debris and in the abandoned houses with broken window pains.
Around a similar time I was once showed how to throw a brick at a church window by an older lad.
 It was covered in a grill and made a great noise. I hadn't realised why my so called mentor was running away, until a white collared clergyman came out from a side door running towards me shaking his first. I learnt how to run that day. 
And how to keep away from this tearaway who fell about in stitches laughing.
I didn't think it funny at all especially when a knock on the door came and there he was reporting me to my mother. You grow up quick in the school of hard knocks.
The church was two streets away, the other side of Sir Thomas White Gardens which was quickly becoming a failed experiment into social housing. Its no longer there. Either is the church that became our playground. I used to run errands having made friends with the people inside. 
I never picked up a stone in anger again and soon realized why the beautiful glass windows were covered up.
At that time in Liverpool there was a different mentality, Protestants and Catholics were enemies, or so we were taught. 
We played football matches when we found someone with a ball. The teams were usually picked by religion. I thought whats all this about.
I soon grew up and realized, just as I had been shown to throw a stone, that I was not to listen to my elders, not to be guided by the wrong people.
To form my own judgments by study.

Decades later whilst driving past, I found the same church in disrepair and about to be demolished so I removed some of the fittings before the bulldozers destroyed them and put them in my stores to re use. Then shortly after, while reading Freddy O'Conners “It All Came Tumbling Down” I found a picture of my street, and a picture of a church that was designed by Pugin, well the firm of E.W Pugin. I was a property developer by this time. I then realized that there were several Pugin buildings in the vicinity and I also realized I had felt the gravity of the history in the humble little street that was condemned by the city council as a slum and we were sent to a modern house in the suburbs.
I always regretted the move. The wash house, that steamy place where the washer women gathered to chit chat away was in fact a Pugin building.
If you are born poor you dont know anything else.
My first BBC appearance was for a documentary about slum housing and I was nominated for interview by the headmaster of my school St Georges. 
I recall in my past memory that I was talking about growing up and there and some shots walking home from school with my friend.


I must have only been six years of age. We did not have a TV and had to go to a neighbours house to watch it. I have tried to find it in the BBC archives but I fear its lost.

 It showed a happy little child growing up and attending a school with its Grade I listed St Georges church, walking home through Everton Library, also a listed building that had escaped the blitz.
https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/search?q=st+georges I wrote about St Georges some time ago.
Not long after being cleared out to the new Metro-land. A concrete jungle. I missed the sturdy security of my poor working class background and the way the people stood together and helped each other. 
People who had nothing would share their last bit of food with you, not knowing if there would be any money with which to buy more for themselves.
 Boot boys and football hooliganism appeared. Things rather dramatically in the coming years. When I started going the match it had become a dangerous place.



Now I understand that that church was in fact The Chancel Chapel erected to be the beginning of the building of a new Cathedral of such gigantic proportions that it would rival St Peters in Rome. The Church never got the necessary finances required and after war decimated Liverpool a free site was given to the Catholic Church near the city centre. This would see The new Metropolitan Cathedral Of Christ The King, or Paddy's Wigwam built. 
I was an apprentice watching this new space rocket erupt on the plateau opposite the Anglican Cathedral by Giles Gilbert Scott. I did not like it.
Later I got angry with what was happening to my city and how it's historical buildings were being targeted for redevelopment in the new era that was bringing a new prosperity...with little respect for my past.
I had become a vociferous heritage campaigner as Liverpool became a World Heritage City it began to destroy the Pier Head. 
The famous Three Graces had escaped The Luftwaffe and then the city planners set about destroying the majesty of Liverpool's waterfront.
Now I was negotiating with Unesco to save its soul as we watched the corrupt city council planners destroying my city that I had been so proud of, yes proud, even with all its tatty edges and incongruities,
It was my town. And they were knocking it down.
I would be as vocal as I could with some great success I gained a respect for my opinions and believed I could shape the argument of how to keep what was the essence of the city yet bring it into the modern times.
This is the city that knocked The Cavern down and then called itself Beatles Town.
Liverpool became European Capital of Culture and some argued that the only culture they could find was in the yougurt, in the fridge, in the Kwik Save, in Old Swan.

They built without respect, on and on, higher and higher, the World Heritage Site was becoming a architectural mess.
https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2019/06/liverpool-threatened-with-world.html I tried to inform the public. What happens if the econony shifts? I said.
I would be asked my opinion many times.
 One request was to the merit of The Metropolitan Cathedral by the Editor of the Liverpool Daily Post where I was careful not to throw stones at it, but give it a conseintious view built up by years of experience, questioning.
The lack of knowledge in the city for its heritage assets was apparent, especially that of the Editor of both the Daily Post Mark Thomas and the Liverpool Echo which had sunk to an all time low under Alaistair Machray.
It was in the Lutyens Crypt within the Metropolitan Cathedral that I made my Antiques Roadshow debut where I was invited to become a specialist on the longest running factual programme in the history of the BBC. https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2014/09/antiques-roadshow-what-amazing.html This was the programme I had loved since discovering it one Sunday night a long time ago. Those stories those objects, It lit up my life like a beacon.


Hopefuly I was invited to become part of the show because I understand the meaning of how important the past is to our future.
How we need history, the stories and meanings of the past.
How we use objects as a vessel to discover who we are.
And more importantly how to objectively look at everything without believing what you are told. To question and not be ordered how to think.
I believe that lad who taught me how to throw a brick made me think, and I formed the opinion that we should never trust in those who appear to be in a superior position.

And now I own a 19th century Grade II listed slate built Chapel where I will open my new gallery soon. I spent the summer restoring it and phase one is nearly completed and I realize that those who live in ecclesiastical buildings should not throw stones, yes I have learnt a lot.....................oops, I have just realized I started off writing about the designer architect who brought Gothic architecture back to the fore and in doing so changed forever the shape of our cities. Augustus Northmore Welby Pugin.
I will now have make that my next post I got a bit carried away there.
http://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2020/07/augustus-welby-northmore-pugin-his.html

Tuesday 26 April 2016

Hillsborough Verdicts-Liverpool Fans Vindicated.....After 27 Years.


With the verdicts of Unlawful Killing delivered today in Warrington at The Hillsborough Enquiry, this is the beginning, of a full vindication for the people of Liverpool. 
Jury finds that Liverpool fans behaviour did not contribute to disaster.

David Duckenfield is, a walking conscience, that has caused misery to so many people. 
Should he go to jail for what his lies?
The way that the good name of the people of  Liverpool has been sullied is starting to become fully understood and will now become common currency. 

And with the verdict, some of those old stereotypes will be lost. 
The reasons for anger and despair from those tough working class masses with relatives at Hillsborough that fateful day, that just wanted to show their pride for their city by supporting their team will now become self evident, that they were not to blame. 
The anger that came about and was shown against the establishment will now be understood and it has now been proved that the tarnished brush with which this sad affair was painted came from the very top, in cover up, after despicable cover up.
And those, some who have been campaigning and fighting for half of their lives will be applauded for never giving up, to clear the name of the 96 and the bad name of my city.
There will be those who will never understand the anticipation of a game, that they had looked forward to all week.
How someone could need to beg steal or borrow to get to the match. It was their lives.
Some had a reason to live, some to escape the daily rigours, just for a couple of hours. 
A couple of hours of watching the team play the beautiful game, the game of football, that game from childhood dreams, and comic book strips of Roy of the Rovers, of  Hero's who would save the day. 
Save the pride.
 The pride they took away from us on that fateful day for their team. 
We all knew someone who was there, might have been there or should have been. 
I haven't cried so much over anything every anniversary was the same. 
Tears. 
 And they sullied our name of our dead and they called us animals by default, and they trod our name into the ground and they insulted the dead. 
And the dead rose through the spirits of the living. 
Those who loved them would never let their names die in vain and they have kept on fighting, when there was no money, no hope, no chance. 
And to the top rose new hero's and heroines who would not give in. 
By stealth and cunning and regret they kept on going for the names of their loved ones and the name of our town.
 And the town knew that, and they give them support and the ranks grew and in dignity they got their day in court for a form of apology from the lying establishment. 
And what of David Duckensfield the one who we should have been able to trust....the police.


Its only a game. 
No its more serious that that Bill Shankly once said. 
Its life and death. This was that.
 And in death they gave us life to take on the establishment of dodgy bent coppers and political cover ups at the highest level. 
There is a good reason why some people hated Margaret Thatcher and its Tory cling on's like the misguided Boris Johnson with his past disparaging remarks. 

They conspired against us and they could never understand that we could not let that happen. 
The bereaved relatives fought for all of us.
                                               So we supported them.

         We should now find that the cover up went right up the ladder.

      Today is a good day for Justice and those who died will be vindicated.
                                   YOU WILL NEVER WALK ALONE.

Wednesday 23 April 2014

Go Billy Liddel Steaming Down The Middle.



I grew up with stories of footballing legends.

Roy of the Rovers was staple diet.
 You went with it, collecting football cards could swallow up all your earnings. Those hard earned pennies from minding the cars that parked down your road, every Saturday home game. It was a perk of living so close to Anfield.
The cars did not actually need minding, but it was a way of developing a interaction with people.
 It instilled inside you, from an early age, that if you put some time in, and you were polite,and you had a go, you could earn some money.
You would chase towards a car before your mate got there “Mind your car Sir” we always got a smile.
I remember one day a massive chrome encrusted Mercedes the likes of which you never saw on the terraced streets of Anfield parked down our street.
 I had to patiently wait till after the match had finished, but I got a shilling, the usual rate was a couple of pennies or maybe a tanner.
The takings always went up when we won the match.
 Saturday afternoons would be spent taking the results on Final Score which usually came up after the wrestling with Mick McManus and co, including  the strangely named Kendo Nagasaki. I always remember knowing Giant Haystacks, he was a bouncer on the Robin Hood camp disco in Prestatyn where you would be dragged for a holiday.
Although we didn't have a TV, until 1966 when a special effort was made because of  the World Cup.
 Those footie cards always seemed to have lots of swaps, you could just not get Roger Hunt.
I had loads of Tommy Smiths and Tommy Lawrence's but Roger Hunt was gold dust.


Last week I lingered in some family archives that I had been wanting to tidy up for over a decade and I come across a Liverpool Echo, and it was old.

7th November 1957.

What was strange was that the front page was in colour, and emblazoned upon that front page was a hero of a generation before mine....Billy Liddel.

I thought Billy Liddle was a giant, as that's how he was always talked about.
The greatest goalscorer ever they said, and there it was in black and white and red all over, the statistics.
 It must have been my grandfathers, who I never knew. My Grandmother will have kept it. She would often sing out in chorus as if involuntarily Go Billy Liddel, steaming down the middle.
He was a hero. They immortalised him in pubs and factories all over the city. A working class hero was something to be.
Even Evertonian's respected him in the same way as we, with, the Dixie Dean.History is not only about posh art, its about the everyday.
This is the week that Liverpool go seven points clear and although Man City have a few games in hand the next match, the Chelsea match is pivotal we could win the league. Alex Ferguson said the first thing he wanted to do was knock Liverpool off their perch. He must be sick as a parrot this week when ex Everton manager, David Moyes is sacked...the chosen one, by him.
It took 15 years for Moyes to get Everton in the Champions League, but he  has finally done it.
By resigning as Everton manager.
Chelsea have a new cat now, that's what they called their goalie in the 60's.
The Cat. I had a couple of footie cards of Peter Bonetti, The Cat, and a few Peter Osgood's.
You had to eat so much plastic tasting chewing gum and all you get is  a load of Martin Chivers.
 They must have sent all the Roger Hunts to London and sent the London strikers up here.
The Kop hero now of course is Suarez, who hasn't always done the right thing but he may be winning round most of his critics.


I read the paper as if it was the Whizzer, or whatever comic it was that that Roy of the Rovers always dribbled past one, then another , then he would dummy the goalkeeper and yeeeess, he scores.
I read on, and was alarmingly reminded that the paper I was reading, dated 1957 was a year that Liverpool were in the second division.
Then the great Bill Shankly arrived.
I am to have it framed, its history.



Wednesday 2 October 2013

Red or Dead-I Turn Into An Anorak.

I don’t much care for the secondary market in memorabilia.

Autographs and all that sort of stuff don’t do anything for me.

It is sometimes easy to dismiss collectors and their habits. I want bronze.

What is it that we all collect stuff? What drives a stamp collector?

Is it more like a disorder than a vocation? Who am I to say?

Then the other day while on the Internet my finger hovered over the mouse in my right hand and I pressed the button, suddenly I owned an autographed picture of the Liverpool team, from when I do not know it just seemed cheap, so I bought it.

I then wondered whether it was damaged or whether there was something that I had not noticed about it, why did no one bid.

I picked it up and Wow it was the team of…well that’s easier than it looks.

David Fairclough, Ginger, was in there, and I say that with regret because as cruel teenagers that what we used to call him when he watched us playing football on the school playing field next to where he lived. We knew he had trials for Liverpool and how he got his own back on all us horrid little boys the night he scored the goal against St Etienne. It was explosive I had no nails left that night.

Shortly after he came and knocked the ball around on he field, did Davey or Mr Fairclough as we now called him.

He has been in the shop since and I did not own up to it.

Dagliesh or Dog leash as he was called on his testimonial, is there, bottom shelf.

Keegan had left for £550, 000 and they signed Dagleish for £440,000 what a bargain.

Makes the price that Suarez the cannibal is worth look a bit ridiculous. Tommy Smith is not there and he would have battered Suarez the way he has made a fool of the Football club.

I bet any player in the photo would have played for Liverpool for nothing…well except Yozzer Hughes look-alike Graham Souness who was always a bit greedy.

Bill Shankly would have sacked him on the spot.

It’s all about money now.



I claim I am the only one who ever bunked into the Boys Pen…yes into the pen.

It was the deciding match of the season, remember the one that Bill Shankly took off his jacket, and proclaimed, to all, with his red shirt. I am one of you. Leeds United was the big team and we had to break their stranglehold under Don Revie and we did that and took the title.

I had got my place in the Pen, as it was only 20 or 30p or some silly price leaving 10p of my milk round money for a packet of cigs.

I got caught smoking once when the Old Man, who was in the paddock, was watching me.

You would wait for one of the coppers on guard of the lovely little treasures in the Pen to turn the other way or stop someone getting over the 10ft high railings with spikes, and you were off, skimming up and through the gap in the barbed wire that seemed to be left there to entice you to have a go.

He got the end of my leg this time but I was too quick for him as he adjusted his helmet I give him a cheeky grin the other side of the fence.

The game started and it was bad, they used to say the ground held 65,000 but there must have been 80,000 in the ground that day.

I was continually picked up and swirled around as if on a tempestuous sea.

I would be moved yards in one direction, then the other, and the risk was always to ensure you did not get trapped and pushed on to a barrier. It was too much. I was going to chance it.

Off I went up the railings of the boy’s pen stockade and through the wire nicking my collar as I ducked my head through.

There was plod standing there waiting for me…. to throw me back into the Kop, the Spion Kop and all its dangers to a young whip of a kid.

‘What’s he doing’ I thought ‘That’s being a bit too conscientious’.

He seemed to stall, a look of ‘what’s he up to’ on his face.

“Let me in I am getting crushed and he let me in and helped me down. So there was Plod was standing there adjusting his helmet again bemused as nobody had ever thought to bunk into the Boys Pen before.

Jimmy Case is lower left it used to be so funny standing in the Kop and he would get the ball and the Kop would collectively gasp urging him to shoot because he had a shot like a rocket. Then you would see those around the goal start to realise that if he missed they were in the line of fire. You can see it on the old replays sometimes the terrified look on the faces of those behind the goal.

Steve Heighway is there. He and Brian Hall had degrees apparently

Heighway was the youth team coach that brought Steven Gerrard and others through from the Academy. Only to have his services dispensed with by a cocky manager who then buggered off for a bigger payday.

Phil Thompson came to our school once to give an inspiring talk. He tells a great tale of the day after winning The European cup. He had ‘borrowed’ the trophy, and took it to celebrate in the Peacock Pub in Kirkby where they had a lock in.

It took them half an hour to find the cup the next day when they all woke up safely under a table still full of champagne.

Just imagine that today ‘Tommo’ borrows the European Cup for the night.

Sammy Lee is there, he of sheer hard work and determination, he used to drink in Kirkland’s on Hardman Street Saturday nights after the match.

He sank his money into a bar called Rumours on Smithdown Road.

That’s what footballers did then in the days before they featured on the Sunday Times rich List.

Alan Kennedy had a rough ride he died young he was a nice man.

I saw some of his cups and trophies for sale once at Charnick Richard but did not buy them.



There are lots of others in the picture I had better stop now I will be here all day. I am turning into an anorak.



Can anyone date the picture I think the player far right on the top shelf may be a clue as he was only around for a season.

It looks like I have got caught up in this memorabilia myself, what’s happened to me? And with the new book out about Mr Shankly by David Peace, about the life of the inspirational man, entitled Red or Dead, which will be a Birthday present that I hope I get the chance to read.