MichaelA's excellent review of David Peace's new book.

Posted by Hinesy on August 6, 2013, 09:59:06 PM

David. David Peace. One of the most distinctive voices in modern British literature. Feted. Lauded. Feted and lauded for The Damned United. Michael had read The Damned United. David had got to the heart of Brian. And David had got inside the head of Brian. Inside his heart and inside his head. And Michael had found it irresistible. And Michael had found it repetitive. Michael liked repetition. The irresistible repetition. The Boys on the Spion Kop liked repetition. The Supporters of Liverpool Football Club liked repetition. The chants. The repetition of the chants. The songs. The repetition of the songs. Winning the Cups. Winning the Leagues. The repetition of winning the Cups and the repetition of winning the Leagues. We shall not be moved. The irresistible repetition of winning the Cups, and the irrestistible repetition of winning the Leagues. Immoveable. And now Bill. David writes about Bill Shankly. Immoveable. We shall not be moved. Michael knew about Bill. We shall not be moved. The Boys on the Spion Kop knew about Bill. The Supporters of Liverpool Football Club knew about Bill. The legend. Implacable. Immoveable. We shall not be moved. The immoveable Bill Shankly. We shall not be moved. WE SHALL NOT, WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED, WE SHALL NOT, WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED - WE'RE THE TEAM THAT'S GONNA WIN THE FA CUP, WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED,[/font]

David moved by Bill. moved by his story. Moved by a driven man. Driven by his story. Michael reading this story of two driven men. David at his desk. At his keyboard. Moving the story forward, and driven forward by the story. Fast keystrokes, heavy keystrokes. Always forward, always faster. Irresistible. Searching. Seeking truth. Searching and seeking for the truth. The truth about Bill. To do justice to Bill. Bill at his desk. Moving forward. Bill on the bench. Moving forward. Bill on the training ground. Moving forward. Bill at Anfield. Michael moved by the story. Bill driven by fast footsteps, heavy footsteps,

In the winter time and in the night time Bill worked. And David worked. In the day time. And in the summer time. Bill working. David working. Always working. If it helped. If that was people wanted. Bill worked. David worked. David worked hard. Bill worked hard. Bill never stopped. Bill couldn't stop and Bill wouldn't stop. Immovable. David never stopped. Irresistible. David couldn't stop and David wouldn't stop. Michael wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. David driven to write each page. Written. Each page. Michael driven to turn each page. Turned. Page after page. Bill picking up the players, Bill picking up the fans, Bill picking up the Club. David picking up the pace, picking up the story, Michael picking up the book. No complacency. Until it was finished. Until it was read. Until it was done. No days off,

Not until Liverpool Football Club were the best team in the country. Immoveable. Not until David had written the moving story. The irresistible story of Bill and the irresistible story of Liverpool Football Club. Not until Michael could do justice to this story. This story of Bill and this story of Liverpool Football Club. Not until the Boys of the Spion Kop, the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club, could read about the story. And read the story. The irresistible story about Liverpool Football Club. The Immoveable. The Irresistible. The immovable and the irresistible. COME ON YOU MIGHTY REDS, COME ON YOU MIGHTY REDS, COME ON YOU REDS, COME ON YOU MIGHTY REDS,

In the red. Broke. Red peeling paint. Broken. Red rusty nails. Dirt Red blood on the ground at Melwood. Dirty. Every stone. Picked up. Every rock. Picked up. Every pebble. Picked up. Every player. Picked up. Every foot. Picked up. Every football. Picked up. Pace. Picked up. Every weed. Pulled up. Every thistle. Pulled up. Every dandelion. Pulled up. Every player. Pulled up. Melwood. Pulled up. Anfield. Pulled up. The players picked up and pulled up by Bill Shankly. Liverpool Football Club, picked up and pulled up by Bill Shankly. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club picked up and pulled up by Bill Shankly. From the Second Division. Pulled up,

Up to the First Division. Past the first chapters. To repeat the preparation. The repetition. The repetition of Bill's plans. David's repetition of the plans. To repeat the practice. The repetition. Walking. Jogging. Running. Writing. Copying. Pasting. Jogging. Jogging. Running. Writing. Writing. Copying. Running. Running. Running. Writing. Writing. Writing. Reading the repetition, over and over, the repetition reinforcing the story. The repetition reinforcing the personality. The repetition reinforcing the achievement. Shooting. In the box. In Bill Shankly's box. Ball after ball. Into the box, repetition ball after ball. Into the box, repetition second after second. Into the box, player after player. Into the box, repetition season after season. In the book. David Peace's book. Line after line. In the book, repetition of line after line. Michael reading line after line, the nuanced changes line after line. Chapter after chapter, the repetition that reinforces Bill's message. Hard work. Passing the message forward. No success without hard work. Always passing it forward. Passing it forward through a dynasty - there is no success without hard work. Passing. Passing in pairs. Passing forwards. Passing to a red shirt. At home. Always forward, always to a red shirt. And away. Always with the ball, always wanting the ball. At home. Red shirts, wanting the ball. And away. Red fans, wanting the Reds,WE WANT THE REDS! WE WANT THE REDS! WE WANT THE REDS! WE WANT THE REDS,


Red. A story written in Red. Red shirts. Red thoughts. Socialistic. For the people. The politics of Bill. Politics learned at home. The politics of the people, and the politics of the times. The politics of the Boys on The Spion Kop. Dark times, hard times for the working people. The working people of Liverpool. Shankly's people. And hard times for David and the working people of West Yorkshire. The people of Huddersfield. Shankly's people. Hard lessons learned at home. For the Boys on the Spion Kop. Shankly's people. For the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. Shankly's people. For the City of Liverpool. Hard lessons learned at home. The City of Liverpool hurt. The City of Liverpool changed. The People of Liverpool changed. The People of Liverpool left. Hard lessons learned away. The Boys on the Spion Kop left. Hard lessons learned away. You should have stayed here. You should never have moved. You should never have left Liverpool. Michael knew that story. Michael had lived that story. And David had moved away, and David had lived that story. Shaping Michael. Shaping Bill. Shaping David. Shaping the Boys on the Spion Kop. Shaping the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. Shaping the story,

The story of Bill, and the story of David. And David's story of Bill. Bill raised to work. Raised in his family. With love and with respect. Raised up in Glenbuck. In the pit. Raised up. In the team. Raised up. In the dressing room. Raised up. On the pitch. Raised up. On the bench. Raised up. At Anfield. Raised Up. At Melwood. Raised up. In the office and at the desk. Raised up. In the boardroom. Raised up. In the corridors. Raised up. For Liverpool Football Club. For the Boys on the Spion Kop. In the boot room. With Bob. With Joe. With Reuben. With Tom. With us. With the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. Before us. Before the Boys on the Spion Kop. With us. In the storm. With us. In the dark. With us. In the wind. With us. In the rain. With us. Hands. Joined together. Raised. Up,

Raised up with the players. Liverpool Football Club players. In the dressing room. Tommy Lawrence looked up at Bill Shankly. Gerry Byrne looked up at Bill Shankly. Ronnie Moran looked up at Bill Shankly. Gordon Milne looked up at Bill Shankly. Ron Yeats looked up at Bill Shankly. Willie Stevenson looked up at Bill Shankly. Ian Callaghan looked up at Bill Shankly. Roger Hunt looked up at Bill Shankly. Ian St John looked up at Bill Shankly. Alf Arrowsmith looked up at Bill Shankly. Peter Thompson looked up at Bill Shankly. David Peace looked up at Bill Shankly. Bob Paisley looked up at Bill Shankly. Joe Fagan looked up at Bill Shankly. Kenny Dalglish looked up at Bill Shankly. Ronnie Moran looked up at Bill Shankly. Graeme Souness probably looked up at Bill Shankly. Roy Evans looked up at Bill Shankly and Gerard Houllier looked up at Bill Shankly, and Rafa Benitez certainly looked up at Bill Shankly. Even Roy Hodgson looks up to Bill Shankly. And now, Brendan Rodgers looks up to Bill Shankly. At the top of the mountain, we all look up to Bill Shankly. Shankly's people looking up to Bill. And Bill Shankly looking up to Liverpool. And Bill Shankly looking up to liberty. We all looked up at what he won. At what they won.The privilege of winning. What they won for Liverpool Football Club. The privilege of playing. What they won. What they won for Bill Shankly. What they won for the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. The privilege of playing for Liverpool. Shankly’s Champions. WE’VE WON THE LEAGUE, WE’VE WON THE LEAGUE, EE-AYE-ADDIO, WE’VE WON THE LEAGUE!


Bill driven. The driven man. Meticulous. Organised. Prepared. Home and away. The knives and the forks and the spoons set out for dinner. Every meal. The teams and the players laid out for the match. Every game. The salt and the pepper pots. The notebooks and the lists. The jam and the marmalade. The address books and the contacts. The butter and the orange juice. The glue and the scissors. The table at the end of the season. For and against. The table set at home. For and against. Effort against failure. Preparation for success. The preparation and the repetition. Hard work. There is no success without hard work. At home. The floor mopped clean. Still bloody nowhere. At home. The oven scrubbed clean. This is my life. The dirt and fat. My bloody life. No success without hard work. Failure could be habitual. Give me the money now. No complacency. Or find yourselves a new bloody manager. Chained in failure. I refuse to see our supporters runners-up again. No days off. Always the bloody bridesmaids. Defeat carries the spades to bury you. Always fucking second best. No nights off. The daggers in your back. Out, out, out. Nothing. Fucking nothing. Nowhere,

From nowhere, Bill found Emlyn Hughes. In Red. From nowhere, Bill found Ray Clemence. In Red. From nowhere, Bill found Kevin Keegan. In Red. A New Liverpool. In Red. The New Liverpool. All in Red. These rubies. These jewels. Jewels set in velvet. Red rubies in Red velvet. The Red velvet backdrop of The Spion Kop. Keegan. Kop King. A King kitted in Red. Toshack. Always scoring. Heighway. Always running. In Red. Chris Lawler. In Red. Alec Lindsay. In Red. Ian Ross. In Red. Brian Hall. In Red. Tommy Smith. In Red. Tommy Smith stitched together,

And embroidered.  A Liverbird upon their chest. In Bill’s Red blood. Men of Shankly’s best. In Michael’s Red blood. A team that plays the Liverpool way. In the Red blood of the Boys on the Spion Kop. The Championship in May. In the Red blood of the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. These Red names. These Red stories. Repeated. Retold. Relived. Repeated. For the Boys of the Spion Kop. For the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For us. What they won for us. We're still singing, still singing about what they won for us What they won at home. What they won away. What they won in Europe. What they learned in Europe. Total football. In red. Against Anderlecht, in Red. Against Milan, in Red. Out, out, out. Out of Europe. Beaten by referees. The chains. Beaten by fog. The daggers. Beaten by coins. The spades. In Europe. Bill Shankly learning in Europe. Bob Paisley learning in Europe. Liverpool Football Club learning in Europe. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club, learning in Europe. Learning to win in Europe. How to manage in Europe,

The managers who lost against Liverpool Football Club. Bill knew the managers. Bill spoke to the managers. Bill calling the managers. Calling them before the game. The night before a game. Calling them and telling them about his team. His players. His great team and his great players. Bill knew Brian. Bill knew Don. David knew Brian and David knew Don. In Huddersfield, David watched Don and David watched Brian. Brian the mercurial. And Michael knew Brian. Brian the accuser. Brian the liar. But Bill knew Brian the challenger. Brian the threat. Brian the protege. And Michael felt differently about Brian. Michael saw what Bill saw. An heir. And Bill knew Bertie. And Harry. And Tommy. And Jock. And the others. The others that came and went,

Matt never went. Bill knew Matt. Sir Matt Busby. Bill knew Matt so well. Bill loved Matt and Bill respected Matt. Matt who came and never went. And Bill saw that. Saw the errors, the mistakes, the desk down the hall. Saw the spades digging. The chains rattling around his neck. The daggers in his back. The Boys of the Spion Kop revelled in those errors. Relegated. Relegated by Manchester City. In disgrace. Relegated in disgrace. The mistakes and the errors that took a great club down. The chains and the daggers. And Michael was moved by those mistakes. Those errors that Matt made. Errors Matt made through love. Love and a desire to serve. To stay, to help. If that was what Wilf wanted. Digging. If that helped Wilf. Rattling. But Matt didn’t help Wilf. Stabbing. If that was what Frank wanted. Digging. If that helped Frank. Rattling. But Matt didn’t help Frank. Stabbing. And Bill learned from Matt. Stay at home Matt, stay away. This was the biggest lesson Bill learned. To walk away. To walk alone,

To walk alone. To walk away. Away to Bellefield. Head held high. Away to Goodison. Unafraid. Away to Prenton Park. Tossed. And away to Old Trafford. Blown. Away to the Baseball Ground. With hope. And then away to Moss Lane. Alone. Old friends. Alone. Old adversaries. Alone. New friends. Alone. New people to help. Alone. One of the most respected managers in modern football. Alone. The man who modernised football. Alone. Feted and lauded for his achievements at Liverpool Football Club. Alone. Applauded. Alone. Lauded. Alone Applauded and feted. Alone. Answering calls. Alone Answering letters. Alone. Waiting for that call. Alone. Waiting for that letter. Waiting. For years. He walked alone, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE, SHANK-LEE,

PAIS-LEE, PAIS-LEE, PAIS-LEE, PAIS-LEE, at the heart of the story. At the heart of Club. Bob Paisley. Here before Shankly. He was here with Shankly. Here after Shankly. Ever present on the page. Ever present in the book. Ever present in the story. Bob raised to work. Raised in his family. With love and with respect. Raised up in Hetton. In the pit. Raised up. In the team. Raised up. In the dressing room. Raised up. On the pitch. Raised up. On the bench. Raised up. At Anfield. Moved Up. At Melwood. Moved up. In the office and at the desk. Moved up. In the boardroom. Moved up. In the corridors. Moved up. For Liverpool Football Club. Moved up. For the Boys on the Spion Kop. Moved up. In the boot room. With Joe. And Reuben. And Ronnie. And Roy. Moved up. For us. The supporters of Liverpool Football Club. Before us. Before the Boys of the Spion Kop. Bob the Manager of Liverpool Football Club. Bob winning Cups. Bob winning the European Cup. Liverpool Football Club winning the European Cup. Three times. The repetition. Bill wonders. David wonders. Michael wonders. And the supporters of Liverpool Football Club wonder. More than immortal. Because of Bill. Where would Bob be without Bill? Where would Bill be without Bob,

Bill would be at home with Ness. Through it all, Ness. Waiting, at home. Ness anxious. When will that day come? Ness worried at home. Is this the day love? Ness with her ciggies. How long is this going to go on love? Ness with her chewed fingernails. I don't know love. Ness with her coughing. I cannot tell you. Ness coughing in the night. Is this it love? Ness coughing in the night, Ness worrying at home in the day. Is this the day? Ness with a cough on her lungs and Bill with a weight in his heart,


At the heart, the very heart, it's love. It's about love in balance. Home and away. Love for Liverpool. Love for Liverpool Football Club. Love for the fans of Liverpool Football Club. Liverpool. Love for the people of Liverpool. And love for Anfield. And Anfield is not in England. Anfield is in Liverpool. And Liverpool is not in England. Liverpool is in a different country. In a different country, in a different league,

And Ness is in a different League. Ness and the girls. A different league. The girls and the grand children. A different country. Home. Bill loved being at home. Bill at home in Liverpool. And Liverpool at home with Bill. Always at his home. At the door. The postman at the door with letters. At home on the phone. At home in the street. At home in the cafes. Liverpool loved Bill. Liverpool worshipped Bill. And at the final whistle. At home, at full time. A home win. A legendary home win,

For Bill. David canonises Bill. The Boys on the Spion Kop canonise Bill. David lauds Bill. Bill is Sainted. David’s seven hundred page song for Bill. David’s ninety verses for Bill. David's seven hundred page prayer for Bill. David’s ninety chapters for Bill. David’s seven hundred page mantra for Bill. An echo,

The Echo. The sound reverberating down the Kop. Down the Spion Kop. And down the years. Down the decades. Down the years and the decades and down the terraces. Repeated down the terraces and down the Spion Kop. The songs. The stories. The songs and the stories repeating and reverberating down the years and the decades, down the Spion Kop. To the team. To the Manager. To the supporters of Liverpool Football Club. The Players, the Manager and the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. All that matters. For the love. The love of the man. The love of Liverpool Football Club. For the love of Bill Shankly. For the love of Liverpool Football Club. And it's a clarion. A call, an echo. A call across the decades. For us. For me. For you. For the Boys on the Spion Kop. For the Supporters of Liverpool Football Club. For now. It's for all of us now. For Liverpool, for Liberty. This was for us. Because of who he was, and who we were. For the people we are and the people we can be,

Shankly's People.







© RAWK & Me.

View Comments | Post Comment

More