5th September 1970
At 6.10am on Saturday 5 September 1970, in Mill Road hospital, The Sheik took his first breath. Football started that day for me. Liverpool were playing Manchester United at Anfield in a 1st Division game. My dad was the head electrician at the ground and due to a floodlight failure was called away from the hospital. Fucking Mancs, they have to spoil everything. Maybe that’s where my dislike of United started but I doubt it. Future events would instil that hatred.
With a starting line-up of
1 Ray Clemence 2 Chris Lawler 3 Roy Evans 4 Tommy Smith 5 Larry Lloyd 6 Emlyn Hughes 7 Ian Callaghan 8 Alun Evans 9 Bobby Graham 10 John McLaughlin 11 Peter Thompson, Liverpool drew 1-1 with Alun Evans grabbing the goal for the Reds.
One of my greatest possessions is an old black and white picture of my dad and his gang standing in the goal in front of The Kop.
14th September 1976
14 September 1976 was the first time I saw the Reds live in the flesh. They were playing Crusaders in the 1st Round of the European Cup. To this day, I will never forget walking up the steps of the stand . Reaching the top step, I looked on in amazement. I’d never seen grass so green and when the teams ran out, the red shirts against the green , a veritable smorgasbord of Technicolor (Stuart Hall eat your heart out!). Advancing years means that half the time I can’t remember what I did yesterday but that memory will never fade. That’s where my recollection of the match ends though. A 6 year olds attention span is as long as a midget’s inside leg measurement and my thoughts were focussed on consuming a sausage roll that made a Sayer’s pasty look like something Gordon Ramsey had knocked up. Liverpool went on to win that leg 2-0 with goals from Phil Neal and John Toshack. Two weeks later, Liverpool went on to win 5-0 in the away leg at Seafield with goals from Keegan, McDermott, Heighway and a brace from David Johnson.
Little did I know that the ‘76-’77 season would go on to provide my best and worst memories of a child supporting LFC.
21 May 1977
Tears, uncontrollable tears, sobbing in my mum’s lap. Lou Macari, that little hunch-backed prick. I fucking hate him. The pain and despair caused by Cantona’s Cup winning goal against us pales into insignificance when compared to the ’77 defeat. Docherty's United team had a reputation for being cavalier, sometimes suicidal, but the game was tight as both teams shut each other out. The crucial moments all came within a chaotic ten minute spell in the second half. The 50th minute saw Stuart Pearson take a pass from Jimmy Greenhoff and he smashed the ball past Clemence from 20 yards to make it 1-0. Two minutes later I was jumping around like a lunatic in my nan’s house when the equaliser was scored by Jimmy Case after turning on the edge of the penalty area and hitting a cross from Joey Jones into the left hand corner of the net.
Three minutes later the goal which won United the game was scored by Macari. You see, when I was 6, Liverpool didn’t lose important games like this. It just didn’t happen.
A Daily Mail journalist wrote "Other sides have lost a game, a chance, a bonus, Liverpool have lost their place in history. One day some side may do this impossible treble, maybe even a side from Liverpool. But not these men". The hatred for United was born on a Saturday in my nan‘s house.
25 May 1977
4 days later, pain was replaced by pleasure, normal business was resumed. My mum and dad let me stay up late to watch The European Cup Final. It just felt special. It was in Rome but to me the pictures could have been beamed from the other side of Mars. The echoey commentary was akin to NASA’s coverage of the first moon landing. The sea of red and white banners and flags made for the perfect backdrop.
Liverpool set out to combat Borussia by effectively making the pitch smaller. Whenever the Germans had the ball at the back, we would simply drop back and invite the Germans to break us down. If we lost the ball, we’d retreat back and work feverishly to win it back. Keegan, up front alongside Steve Heighway, worked hard to keep Vogts busy, constantly pulling him out of position and creating openings for others. With Liverpool playing the ball from the back and concentrating on keeping possession, we dominated the early stages of the game, although Borussia had the best chance when Bonhof broke away and hit Clemence’s post. As the first half hour approached, however, we got the goal we deserved as McDermott finished a forty yard run by receiving a pass from Heighway and slotted it past Kneib in the Borussia goal to make it 1-0.
Liverpool continued to dominate the game, but our good work was undone on 51 minutes when a stray back pass let in Simonsen who equalised for the Germans. Suddenly Borussia were back in with a chance and only a brave dive by Clemence at the feet of Stielike stopped them from taking the lead. But then, after 65 minutes, Liverpool won a corner and Heighway’s cross was met at the near post by Tommy Smith, whose header powered the ball into the net. Borussia still had time to force a brilliant save from Clemence at the feet of Heynckes, but the match was settled in the dying moments when Vogts, who had been vainly chasing Keegan all night, brought him down in the penalty area and Phil Neal stepped up to convert the penalty and win the European Cup for Liverpool for the first time.
Needless to say, The Sheik went to sleep a very happy little boy that night.
10 August 1977
"I just hoped that after the trials and tribulations of my early years in management, someone up high would smile on me and guide my hand. My plea was answered when we got Kenny Dalglish. What a player, what a great professional!" - Bob Paisley
Following the European Cup win, Liverpool had to delve into the transfer market to replace the curly headed Keegan who had left to further his bank account , sorry career, with Hamburg. 6 year olds don’t really bother too much with the technical attributes of a player, never mind one from another club. However, I had a reason to take interest in the signing of Kenny. Due to my Catholic upbringing, my mum bought me a Celtic kit before a Liverpool one and as such I considered them my second team. Obviously I’d heard of Dalglish, but Liverpool were the top dogs, anyone they bought had to be good, no question. You have to remember this wasn’t the days of “the final piece of the jigsaw†which has dogged the club for the last decade or more.
But describing Kenny as good, well that is a massive understatement. A bit like saying Nikeser is a bad poster :wink: . He is without doubt, the best player I have seen in a Liverpool shirt (Kenny not Bryan).
£400,000 we paid for him. What a steal when you consider that only 4 years later we forked out £900,000 for Mark Lawrenson.
Domestically, the ‘77-’78 season was a bit of a disappointment. The title charge was effectively ended during a string of poor results between January and March. We were knocked out of the FA Cup by Chelsea and lost The League Cup final after a replay to Nottingham Forest. There were even mutterings of discontent, with the signing of Dalglish being questioned when he only found the net on 3 occasions between December and March. You see, the fickle fan wasn’t a bi-product of the SKY generation. Kenny, however, was to keep his most important goal of that season for the final match.
10th May 1978
This was essentially a home game with 90% of the Wembley crowd supporting the Reds as they took to the field against Bruges. I sat at home, resplendent in Action Man pyjamas, watching the incessant noise and tidal wave of red and white flags. It was in England so the commentary was an improvement on Rome.
I was nervous. For the first time I had that horrible feeling in my belly. Could I bare to watch, should I go to bed and wait until the morning to find out the result. Nah, I watched and for 64 minutes, that anxiety gnawed away at my insides. Step forward King Kenny. A Dalglish overhead kick was pushed out by their goalkeeper and from a Belgian point of view it could not have been a more ill-directed punch. The ball flew to Souness and another brilliant pass sent Dalglish racing on to the ball. Although angled and covered by their goalie, Dalglish, calmly, flipped the ball over the goalkeeper and into the net. This was slow motion stuff. It felt like years from the ball leaving his boot to finding the back of the net.
My only other memory from the game was a scare not long after we’d scored. Hansen made a mistake which let in the Bruges player. Clemence made a terrific stop but the ball fell to an opposition player who shot at a seemingly open goal. Slow motion time again. As the ball was in the act of crossing the line at the foot of the post Phil Thompson swooped in to kick clear.
Liverpool held out and the final whistle confirmed the Reds as the first British Club to retain Old Big Ears.
The Sheik was getting used to this, winning European trophies. Unfortunately, I’d have to wait another 3 years to experience that high again……………..
At 6.10am on Saturday 5 September 1970, in Mill Road hospital, The Sheik took his first breath. Football started that day for me. Liverpool were playing Manchester United at Anfield in a 1st Division game. My dad was the head electrician at the ground and due to a floodlight failure was called away from the hospital. Fucking Mancs, they have to spoil everything. Maybe that’s where my dislike of United started but I doubt it. Future events would instil that hatred.
With a starting line-up of
1 Ray Clemence 2 Chris Lawler 3 Roy Evans 4 Tommy Smith 5 Larry Lloyd 6 Emlyn Hughes 7 Ian Callaghan 8 Alun Evans 9 Bobby Graham 10 John McLaughlin 11 Peter Thompson, Liverpool drew 1-1 with Alun Evans grabbing the goal for the Reds.
One of my greatest possessions is an old black and white picture of my dad and his gang standing in the goal in front of The Kop.
14th September 1976
14 September 1976 was the first time I saw the Reds live in the flesh. They were playing Crusaders in the 1st Round of the European Cup. To this day, I will never forget walking up the steps of the stand . Reaching the top step, I looked on in amazement. I’d never seen grass so green and when the teams ran out, the red shirts against the green , a veritable smorgasbord of Technicolor (Stuart Hall eat your heart out!). Advancing years means that half the time I can’t remember what I did yesterday but that memory will never fade. That’s where my recollection of the match ends though. A 6 year olds attention span is as long as a midget’s inside leg measurement and my thoughts were focussed on consuming a sausage roll that made a Sayer’s pasty look like something Gordon Ramsey had knocked up. Liverpool went on to win that leg 2-0 with goals from Phil Neal and John Toshack. Two weeks later, Liverpool went on to win 5-0 in the away leg at Seafield with goals from Keegan, McDermott, Heighway and a brace from David Johnson.
Little did I know that the ‘76-’77 season would go on to provide my best and worst memories of a child supporting LFC.
21 May 1977
Tears, uncontrollable tears, sobbing in my mum’s lap. Lou Macari, that little hunch-backed prick. I fucking hate him. The pain and despair caused by Cantona’s Cup winning goal against us pales into insignificance when compared to the ’77 defeat. Docherty's United team had a reputation for being cavalier, sometimes suicidal, but the game was tight as both teams shut each other out. The crucial moments all came within a chaotic ten minute spell in the second half. The 50th minute saw Stuart Pearson take a pass from Jimmy Greenhoff and he smashed the ball past Clemence from 20 yards to make it 1-0. Two minutes later I was jumping around like a lunatic in my nan’s house when the equaliser was scored by Jimmy Case after turning on the edge of the penalty area and hitting a cross from Joey Jones into the left hand corner of the net.
Three minutes later the goal which won United the game was scored by Macari. You see, when I was 6, Liverpool didn’t lose important games like this. It just didn’t happen.
A Daily Mail journalist wrote "Other sides have lost a game, a chance, a bonus, Liverpool have lost their place in history. One day some side may do this impossible treble, maybe even a side from Liverpool. But not these men". The hatred for United was born on a Saturday in my nan‘s house.
25 May 1977
4 days later, pain was replaced by pleasure, normal business was resumed. My mum and dad let me stay up late to watch The European Cup Final. It just felt special. It was in Rome but to me the pictures could have been beamed from the other side of Mars. The echoey commentary was akin to NASA’s coverage of the first moon landing. The sea of red and white banners and flags made for the perfect backdrop.
Liverpool set out to combat Borussia by effectively making the pitch smaller. Whenever the Germans had the ball at the back, we would simply drop back and invite the Germans to break us down. If we lost the ball, we’d retreat back and work feverishly to win it back. Keegan, up front alongside Steve Heighway, worked hard to keep Vogts busy, constantly pulling him out of position and creating openings for others. With Liverpool playing the ball from the back and concentrating on keeping possession, we dominated the early stages of the game, although Borussia had the best chance when Bonhof broke away and hit Clemence’s post. As the first half hour approached, however, we got the goal we deserved as McDermott finished a forty yard run by receiving a pass from Heighway and slotted it past Kneib in the Borussia goal to make it 1-0.
Liverpool continued to dominate the game, but our good work was undone on 51 minutes when a stray back pass let in Simonsen who equalised for the Germans. Suddenly Borussia were back in with a chance and only a brave dive by Clemence at the feet of Stielike stopped them from taking the lead. But then, after 65 minutes, Liverpool won a corner and Heighway’s cross was met at the near post by Tommy Smith, whose header powered the ball into the net. Borussia still had time to force a brilliant save from Clemence at the feet of Heynckes, but the match was settled in the dying moments when Vogts, who had been vainly chasing Keegan all night, brought him down in the penalty area and Phil Neal stepped up to convert the penalty and win the European Cup for Liverpool for the first time.
Needless to say, The Sheik went to sleep a very happy little boy that night.
10 August 1977
"I just hoped that after the trials and tribulations of my early years in management, someone up high would smile on me and guide my hand. My plea was answered when we got Kenny Dalglish. What a player, what a great professional!" - Bob Paisley
Following the European Cup win, Liverpool had to delve into the transfer market to replace the curly headed Keegan who had left to further his bank account , sorry career, with Hamburg. 6 year olds don’t really bother too much with the technical attributes of a player, never mind one from another club. However, I had a reason to take interest in the signing of Kenny. Due to my Catholic upbringing, my mum bought me a Celtic kit before a Liverpool one and as such I considered them my second team. Obviously I’d heard of Dalglish, but Liverpool were the top dogs, anyone they bought had to be good, no question. You have to remember this wasn’t the days of “the final piece of the jigsaw†which has dogged the club for the last decade or more.
But describing Kenny as good, well that is a massive understatement. A bit like saying Nikeser is a bad poster :wink: . He is without doubt, the best player I have seen in a Liverpool shirt (Kenny not Bryan).
£400,000 we paid for him. What a steal when you consider that only 4 years later we forked out £900,000 for Mark Lawrenson.
Domestically, the ‘77-’78 season was a bit of a disappointment. The title charge was effectively ended during a string of poor results between January and March. We were knocked out of the FA Cup by Chelsea and lost The League Cup final after a replay to Nottingham Forest. There were even mutterings of discontent, with the signing of Dalglish being questioned when he only found the net on 3 occasions between December and March. You see, the fickle fan wasn’t a bi-product of the SKY generation. Kenny, however, was to keep his most important goal of that season for the final match.
10th May 1978
This was essentially a home game with 90% of the Wembley crowd supporting the Reds as they took to the field against Bruges. I sat at home, resplendent in Action Man pyjamas, watching the incessant noise and tidal wave of red and white flags. It was in England so the commentary was an improvement on Rome.
I was nervous. For the first time I had that horrible feeling in my belly. Could I bare to watch, should I go to bed and wait until the morning to find out the result. Nah, I watched and for 64 minutes, that anxiety gnawed away at my insides. Step forward King Kenny. A Dalglish overhead kick was pushed out by their goalkeeper and from a Belgian point of view it could not have been a more ill-directed punch. The ball flew to Souness and another brilliant pass sent Dalglish racing on to the ball. Although angled and covered by their goalie, Dalglish, calmly, flipped the ball over the goalkeeper and into the net. This was slow motion stuff. It felt like years from the ball leaving his boot to finding the back of the net.
My only other memory from the game was a scare not long after we’d scored. Hansen made a mistake which let in the Bruges player. Clemence made a terrific stop but the ball fell to an opposition player who shot at a seemingly open goal. Slow motion time again. As the ball was in the act of crossing the line at the foot of the post Phil Thompson swooped in to kick clear.
Liverpool held out and the final whistle confirmed the Reds as the first British Club to retain Old Big Ears.
The Sheik was getting used to this, winning European trophies. Unfortunately, I’d have to wait another 3 years to experience that high again……………..
