Your Views
( Volume 5 )

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The North Down Tommy Smith Liverpool Supporters Club

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Matt Rayner

I'm a Man City supporter born in Stockport.
The tales on here are a true national treasure and this man shines like a beacon in this ever slicker world.

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Paul Tennant

We used to stand in the paddock right at the back in front of Shankly, a group of us were there regularly from the early sixties until it was all seating.

Shanks would always talk to us and it was funny hearing him talking under his breath about certain players. "blind alleys" "you'r going down blind alleys" he would say about Alan Hanson when he would venture across the halfway line. It was true, he would go in a straight line, never move from that line. He would always ask uss how many derby tickets we wanted the week before the derby. He would then appear at half time and produce an envelope with the said tickets in.

A hand would come down from the directors box with the tickets, and another would be open waiting for the money. He would never let the tickets go until he had the money. A cagey scotsman.

One day he saw me and my mate outside and said hello, "have you no got a ticket" he said. We replied no we couldn't get one. He then took us through the main entrance past the commissionare and down the tunnel onto the pitch. He then walked us down the track to the place opposite the directors box where we used to stand. "ok guys, climb over and get up to your usual place" He then told us to go to the front entrance after the match and we would be invited to the directors/ players lounge after the game. We had a great time and will never forget the experience, a great, great man

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Rob Pearce

My dad had the dubious pleasure of being marked by the great Bill Shankly during a match between the Army and Navy in Malta in 1943.

Bill was visiting the island as a RN PT instructor, and a game was arranged between the two services. My old chap endlessly recounts the occasion when having been on the receiving end of several crunching tackles from the great Scot, (there was no love lost between the Navy and the Army, nor the English and the Scots)...

My pop put in a scorching shot from just on the edge of the 18 yrd box, which beat the Navy keeper and just brushed the upright missing the goal. Such was the ferocity of the shot that the ball went a good 35-40 yards beyond the goal. No comment like 'hard luck mate' from Shanks, no, apparently he turned round and loudly said in his dour Scots tone.... 'make him bloody fetch it'..

This is a true story!!

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David Ross

All I can think of are superlatives which make it sound like cliches. Marvellous. Superb. Magnificent. A great tribute to a great man. And I mean a great man - not just a great footballer and manager. Like so many others Shankly has only been fully appreciated since his death. Hard to believe it was 20 years ago. May his memory live forever.

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Bill McAusland

This is a great web site, and it brought back a lot of fond memories, well done!

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Big Bhoy

What a site man!! I was almost crying reading it. No doubt about it Shankly was a legend and will never be forgotten, Coming from Ayrshire myself i know how important football is to the lives of the folk down there and Shankly captured that sense and took it to a different level. hE MAY BE GONE BUT HIS NAME WILL NEVER DIE.

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Gerry Crute

On 12 July 1974 I was at school in Sandfield Park, right next to Bill and Nessie Shankly's house. When the rumour spread that Our Messiah had retired incredulity, denial, fear, and a whole host of other emotions ran unchecked through the classrooms. At the end of the day, a day of media frenzy, a group left St Edward's College, walked through the Park and climbed over the wall at the end of Sandforth Close and walked on up to Bill's purple front door. Wearing blazers to match, and summoning every ounce of courage, the bravest of our group knocked at the door.

Nessie answered and was asked "Is Bill there, please?" by the 12 year-olds assembled. The great man came out.

"Have you retired, Bill?"
"Aye, son. I have."
"Aah, eh, Bill."
"Aye, son?"
"Aah dont. Please, Bill."
"Aah, I'm sorry son."
And the moment ended with Bill signing his autograph on all manner of paper, though not our exercise books or we would all have been in trouble with masters at our rugby playing school who simply wouldn't have understood the significance.

Throughout the next couple of years, whereas you state that Bill visited Bellefield, which is at the other end of Sandforth Close, he was a very, very frequent visitor to our school. He was given permission by the headmaster to use the school's facilities, which were at the time light years ahead of any other school in the city, and we became almost blase about seeing Bill as we went to the gym, the baths, the weights room or elsewhere.

One day during a spring half-term holiday along with the rest of the school cross-country squad I truned up at the school at around 9.30, to find a game of football going on in the playground. Some local boys were playing there along with a couple of my teammates. Obviously I joined in and only then noticed a short haired older man, not resembling any of the teachers. When the ball went into play it was obvious that Shanks was playing too. I had died and was playing in heaven, and to make things better Bill was on my side. He spoke, you listened. He coached and you did as he said. And it worked, too. I have never played as well, and even when it was my turn to go in goal I performed out of my skin. A cross came over and I rached as high as I could and somehow managed to trap the ball against the 'bar', which was the underside of pillared shed some six foot or so off the ground. One of the other side charged into me. Not prepared to let down my side, most of all Shanks, I struggle to stop the ball from falling over the line. From nowhere Shanks arrived and saved the day. Pushing the boy away he took the ball out of my hands and congratulated me on a good save. He spotted the ball and took the free kick he had awarded himself. As the play developed up the yard he turned back to me and asked if I was OK. I stammered that I was and took a hefty pat of encouragement on my shoulders.

Bill said, "You're doing well, son", smiled and looked at me playing football in my athletics kit.
He cocked his head to the side and told me "Aye, you've got footballer's legs," and took off up the yard to put matters to rights elsewhere. I looked down at my legs, which were indeed very well developed as a result of running dozens of miles a week, and playing all sorts of other sports too. The ultimate hero had just paid me the ultimate compliment a 14 year old could receive. Training that day never took place. The master had no chance at all of getting us off the yard and into a run through Sandfield Park and West Derby. No competition. I was in ecstacy (as I am now writing this and remembering how good I felt for monthe afterwards).

I heard Bill speak in the Mountford Hall at the University of Liverpool shortly before he died. He said that the worst thing he had ever done was to retire. He said that his mind didn't want to be retired and he felt that he had to keep himself busy or he would shrivel up and die. I can't help thinking that maybe he should have been found a role into which he could have channelled his undoubted gifts, perhaps with children as I had benefitted from his undoubted skills that particular day when he made me feel like a king. Maybe we might have enjoyed his presence in this world for longer, and that would have been to everyone's benefit.

God Bless You, Bill. Always remember with extreme fondness. Never alone.

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Ian Thomson

Your web site is of great interest to me as Bill Shankly is a relative of mine. My papa Mr Alex Bradford who was from Logan near Cumnock was Mr Shanklys cousin and as children they were very close. Basically that means that Mr Shankly was my 3rd cousin!!!!

I was young when Mr Shankly died and now that I am older and can appreciate how important he was to both Scottish and British football, I only wish I had made the effort to meet the man.

Now I have a 5 year old son and I have tried to tell him how much of an impact Mr Shankly made on the soccer front. Now my son is a mad Liverpool fan and last year I took him to Annfield to the museum and the Stadium Tour. I dont know who was prouder of the Bill Shankly statue outside the ground, me or my son. He took great delight in telling the tour guide as he has his school teacher and others that Bill Shankly is his 4th cousin!!!!

I think your site is smashing as it celebrates his life as my papa would have known him. Sadly my papa died a few years back however reading your site and knowing of the connection with my papa to Mr Shanklys early years it has given me an insight into the problems faced by him as a child.

Ian Thomson.
Hamilton, Scotland.

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Jimmy

Well Done ! A truly superb site. Very well set out giving an excellent account of the great man. I found it entertaining and very informative.

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Bobby Sounds

Firstly may I take this opportunity to congratulate and thank you for presenting such a great website, I found the quotes to be pure brilliance mixed with such tongue in cheek humour that It's obvious that Shanks was before his time and left the party too early.

Anyway, back to my main point! My dad, when he was much younger than today, was a pretty good footballer. He is very much like Shankly in many ways in his behavior. When my dad was playing semi professional footie for various clubs he developed a reputation of being tough, energetic and reasonably skillful, so much so that he was approached several times by Everton which as you can probably understand was like being asked to sell your soul to the devil. He flatly refused.

Not long after Bill had started achieving some notoriety with Liverpool (before I had even started school) my dad took me to watch Liverpool train at Melwood, Bill to my surprise and absolute awe, knew my dad...He knew him and even knew of the previous Everton interest. Shanks started to sing my dad's praises to me, telling me what a good player he would have been in a Liverpool shirt and also emphasised what an opportunity the previous manager had lost. Bill gave me a glass of orange juice, telling me to eat lots of fish, meat, eggs and veg and to play as much football as possible. Maybe one day I'd get the call, but this time it would be a Liverpool rep calling. In adulthood I peaked at five feet and two inches, but that day and every time I think of Bill Shankly, I'll never be less than ten feet tall.

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Davie Paton

This is excellent. The honesty of the man brings a lump to my throat. Im not a Liverpool fan but I have respect for their people and traditions. From one Scotsman to another . .

Thanks Shanks

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pato

I've just finished a book about the great Bill Shankly, and it moved me to tears. If only in this day and age we could transfer Shankly's humilty, kindness, loyalty, respect and dignity to our everyday lives this mad world of ours would be a hell of a lot better place. Bring Bill Shankly's teachings into your life! Long live Shankly!

from a Nottingham Forest fan.

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