Stars and Strife by Mark Piercy
Stars and Strife by Mark Piercy
Stars and Strife by Mark Piercy
Change in Liverpool
Fans during the
Hicks & Gillett
Reign
Contents:
Introduction
Grumblings of Discontent
Anger and Organisation
Tom Hicks Jnr at The Sandon
Frustrated Pressure
George at the Crowne Plaza
Fan Ownership
Off the Streets, Onto the Keyboard
The Cavalry Finally Arrive
End Game
So, Back to Normal?
Introduction
There can be little doubt that the period between February 2007 and October 2010 marked a
hugely significant and eventful time in the storied history of Liverpool Football Club. A
Champions League final defeat, blows in the knockout stages of the same competition in later
seasons, a Premiership title missed by the slimmest of margins, and the dismantling of a hugely
talented squad over the course of three transfer windows meant that on-field events were
enough to keep fans on their toes. However, it was off the field events that will forever be
remembered from this period.
The three years and eight months of Thomas O. Hicks and George Gillett’s ownership of the club
will never go down as a success. With a series of apparently ‘done and dusted’ takeovers with
origins in all corners of the globe, and a civil war played out publicly and a football club in
turmoil, these were uncharted times for the club and its fans.
However, it was on the terraces and the streets of Liverpool and beyond that Hicks and Gillett
had the greatest impact. There was an open revolt against the owners that saw fans taking the
streets to protest, the creation of a fan’s group that grew into an influential union, the owners
accosted when in the city, and a total reshaping of the way fans thought.
It wasn’t a united fight to get rid of the Americans by one method alone; supporters at times
turned on each other in disagreement over how to convey anger to the upper echelons of the
club.
This is not a piece that aims to unearth anything new about the struggles of the H&G era, nor is
it to describe in-depth the ins and outs of the legal wrangling and behind closed doors dealings.
It is intended to document the efforts made by fans and provide a timescale to a hugely
important and period in following Liverpool Football Club.
As well as looking at the change in the Liverpool fanbase, there are some detailed, eye witness
reports on major incidents during the time.
It must be noted that I am a Spirit of Shankly member and nothing else. I have no reason to
write about topics with any bias towards the Union (although, joining up is essential in my view
for all Liverpool fans!)
Grumbles of Discontent
May 2007. After a ballot took place to distribute the remaining tickets for the Champions League
Final amongst Reds fans who had been to six games in the competition, there was widespread
anger. The problem was simple: no-one seemed to be successful in the so-called ballot.
The maths didn’t add up. Internet forums got together and shared information. Out of thousands
upon thousands of those entered into the ballot, around 5% were successful. Tickets were
missing from the paltry allocation given to us by UEFA, and when Rick Parry patronisingly told
the Liverpool Echo that he wasn’t prepared to “play the numbers game” anger reached fever
pitch. Blindly blaming the powers that be for the ticket allocation was no longer acceptable –
where had the tickets actually gone, fans asked.
Hundreds of fans – some with tickets for the final, some without – marched from The Sandon to
Anfield to vent their frustrations.
This isn’t a problem that can be attributed to the Americans – although their huge allocation for
their cronies’ trip to Greece didn’t help matters – but it marks the first time fans protested
outside Anfield. It marked the first time fans said ‘enough is enough’ and made their voices
heard. It was a crucial day in the history of fans of the club.
While the few hundred – referenced by a steward as “200 divvies” – were a drop in the ocean in
terms of the tens of thousands of match going Reds, it could certainly be argued that this
occasion broke some of the reluctance to air any grievances in public. Some agreed; some didn’t.
Some joined in, some didn’t. But, on that wet day at an end of season dead rubber against
Charlton Athletic, the seeds of protest that grew in the next few years were sown.
The aftermath of defeat in the afore mentioned Champions League final hurt. Messrs Hicks and
Gillett had taken to the Athens pitch and slapped hands with enthusiastic fans, as well as
brandishing an assortment of currencies to a Sky Sports interviewer when asked how they
would sustain future success. The feeling among fans at the time was still a positive one: they
were enjoying a successful introduction to the game, and to the club.
Even when Rafael Benítez used his press conference the day after the night before in an Athens
hotel to publicly call on the duo to adapt quickly to a different game, hitting the streets of L4 in
protest was a long way off. Of course it was slightly unnerving to hear a man revered by all
Liverpool fans talk about dissatisfaction, but there was a feeling that Benítez was merely giving
the owners a metaphorical kick up the backside rather than an ultimatum.
Even a transfer window wheeling and dealing rather than splashing the money Gillett had
brandished in that infamous interview never inflamed fans to criticise the Americans. New boy
Fernando Torres’ sensational start to life at Liverpool meant that no-one looked beyond the
exaggerated fees quoted in the media or at the sales of Craig Bellamy, Luis Garcia et al to fund
the deal in part at least.
If alarm bells had thus far failed to ring in the ears of Reds, there was a sharp, piercing sound
after a Benítez press conference prior to a match at Newcastle United. The press conference
remains a pivotal moment in the American era.
Immediately, action was called for. The ‘Reclaim the Kop’ group set-up to improve atmosphere
at Anfield and highlight Liverpool traditions they felt were not being upheld, organised a ‘March
in Support of Rafa’. Not a march against Hicks and Gillett – there was still a huge reluctance to
criticise the pair even after Benítez’ job was revealed to be in huge danger – but in support of
the manager.
The RTK statement on the march stated: Let’s leave any anti-American and anti-Rick Parry
feelings to one side for tonight. No matter how you feel on the subject, let’s leave that for another
day and use tonight to show our passionate support for our manager. Our Club. Our Manager.
Don’t let anything dilute that. Just use tonight to march in support of our manager, the man that’s
brought us so many special nights, the man who’s working towards bringing us more of those
nights and the man that needs our backing more than ever. Let’s show him how much he means to
us. Starting with the march outside, then let’s take that inside the ground and get Anfield rocking.
It’s down to us, all of us, to make that happen.
The result was a march that made headlines around the world, and quite likely saved Rafael
Benítez. While later marches became edgier, more aggressive and definitely more critical of
Hicks and Gillett, this was a march that, like the Athens protest, changed the thinking among
many Reds about protesting.
The march was hugely different from later protests. Songs in support of Benítez filled the air,
followed by Liverpool classics such as ‘Oh When the Reds’ and ‘Like a team that’s gonna win the
European Cup” rather than anti-American ditties. Instead of a definitive plan of action and route,
there was little organisation as fans marched around the Oakfield Road and then past the
Sandon only to go back the way they came.
But the willingness to protest a decision by the higher ups at Liverpool Football Club was there.
The Americans were on thin ice – and it would only take one more mistake to turn quiet
discontent into vocal anger.
The home game against Aston Villa the following Monday marked new territory: protests during
the game.
A variation on the song used to criticise Rick Parry in the Athens ticket protest that would
become synonymous with the struggle against Hicks and Gillett.
It began with the 306 and 305 sections of the Kop. Then, section by section, a domino effect
ensued. After more and more Kopites stood and joined in, in no time the chant reached a
crescendo with a standing Kop directing their ire at the directors box and across the Atlantic.
Make no mistake, this was a huge moment. This was a moment that the grumbling of discontent
turned into widespread anger.
The following Saturday, plucky minnows Havant and Waterlooville came to Anfield in a David v
Goliath FA Cup Fourth Round tie. The non-league outfit took the lead twice, and were sportingly
applauded after each goal, before the Reds’ class told and Liverpool were 4-2 up. With the game
and a place in the Fifth Round in the bag, the same sections of the Kop that started the protest
songs five days earlier began to air the same songs. This time however, there was no domino
effect, and no crescendo.
Many in blocks towards the front of the Kop thought this was neither the time nor place for
airing anti-American songs. It was Havant and Waterlooville’s day, and to dampen the
atmosphere provided by their travelling fans would spoil their day. There were also many who
felt that while they were willing to protest at the Villa game, they weren’t prepared to protest
week-in, week-out. The songs at the back of the Kop continued – many arguing that the game
was won and so the team could deal with songs against the Americans, and nothing had changed
since the Villa game – and there were some ugly scenes as fans argued among themselves.
After a stand-off until the end of the game, with the back continuing to start protest songs while
the front protested at the protest songs, it was clear that there was going to be some friction
among fans. It should noted that it certainly was nowhere near as black and white as a ‘front of
the Kop and back of the Kop’ row – many at the back argued with protestors and vice versa –
however, it was clear that something had to give. Something or someone had to take the lead.
After texts and phone calls were made after posts calling for a meeting on internet boards,
hundreds took up their places in the back room of the pub yards from Anfield on the 31 st
January 2008. Chaired by Paul Rice, with Nicky Allt, Dave Usher, Alan Kayll, Andy Heaton and
Neil Atkinson on the panel there was passionate and lengthy discussions on the situation. The
meeting was set-up pre Havant & Waterlooville, but the scenes on the Kop that day accelerated
the need for fans looking to oust Hicks and Gillett to organise and ensure everyone was on the
same page.
At this time it was widely expected that the Dubai International Capital group were preparing
an offer to Hicks and Gillett, but in the meantime efforts were stepped up to put unprecedented
pressure on the owners. A boycott of club merchandise was agreed. Protests were voted in. The
gloves were now off – whilst Athens and Anfield protests were the first of note in the club’s
history, they were about to become commonplace.
In the various exchanges and votes, it was decided that a group should be set-up to protest
against the Americans ownership. Once the idea came from Allt that a union with fully paid up
membership could influence not only the exit of the Americans but give a platform to ensure the
fans had a voice on other matters, it was unanimously agreed upon by all.
From talking about methods of ousting two Americans, the discussion from the floor took in
travelling to away games, influencing the club to show more support for the local community
and providing a voice to the great ticket fiascos of the past. In the three hours that ranged from
passionate, sensible speeches from Reds to one or two outlandish and bizarre ramblings, a
greater picture became apparent: people were now anti-Hicks and Gillett, but it seemed that
breaking the barrier of being critical of the owners of the club had allowed a flood of other
issues to come to the fore. Instead of dismissing individual letters and phone calls of complaints,
the club would have to acknowledge an organised fans group's frustrations.
A vote from the floor saw a unanimous decision from those present – a trade union-like
organisation with card carrying members could give fans a voice.
Next up was a name. While “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and “Girls Aloud” were suggested and
may have given the Union a different feel, the name “Sons of Shankly” was decided upon
(changed at the next meeting to the ‘Spirit of Shankly’ to represent the female members).
‘Liverpool Supporters Union’ was the alternative, and later added to the group’s name.
A leafleting blitz generously organised in part by the Hillsbrough Justice Campaign was to take
place at the Sunderland game three days later. While a lengthy debate took place about how to
protest – an argument that would continue into the American’s latter days in charge – there was
reason to be optimistic when leaving the public house that night.
The rest as they say is history. Membership forms were out within weeks and leaflets handed
out just a few days later. The landscape of our fan base had changed forever.
On the same day as the inaugural SOS meeting, a press conference attended by local and
national media was held by a Rogan Taylor –led ‘Share Liverpool’ group. Taylor told the
assorted media that the club could be bought by the fans, and as such kept out of the clutches of
businessmen with no association with the club other than profit (see . Fan Ownership).
After a thirty-minute after game protest in which “they don’t care about fans, Liverpool Football
Club is in the wrong hands” reverberated around The Kop interrupted only by “What do we
want? Yanks Out!” every so often, it was off to the Sandon on a normal post-home game drink.
Just a month after hundreds congregated in The Sandon and the Spirit of Shankly was formed,
the pub Liverpool was formed in was to become centre stage again.
As a group of us were about to leave word went round that he was in the middle room of the
pub.
Surely not. A man whose attendance had prompted a 500-strong protest just minutes ago,
drinking in a hostile, Red only boozer?
Yet, there he was. Sticking out like a sore thumb stood a tall American in a suit, nervously
sipping his pint with three sheepish security around him.
What happened next varies wildly depending upon what media source you listen to. To some,
Hicks was run out of town under a flurry of glasses, bottles and phlegm. To others Hicks
smoothed relations over and spoke to fans on a personal level, winning everyone over with
aplomb.
Whilst the majority of people stayed towards the back singing “you lying bastard, get out of our
pub”, it must be noted that none seemed too anxious to grill Hicks. Maybe it was the three beefy
security guards, or maybe Hick’s brashness had stunned them. Maybe they’d lost their voices
when they got too close to Hicks.
Either way, it was one Red who went over and asked questions of Hicks (later described as a
“Jeremy Paxman-style grilling” by the Echo). He told Jnr that he and his family were not wanted
and that the relationship with Liverpool fans was beyond repair. He asked where the then
missing in the action Foster Gillett was, the man supposedly looking after the running of the
club on a day-to-day basis. Hicks answered that he knew there was a long way to go to gaining
the fan’s trust, but he was moving over and would try and repair the damage caused due to
Klinnsmann, debt and the realisation that the American was becoming a nightmare.
Hicks’ security team were already making noises that it was time to go and he apologized to
Liverpool’s Paxman and made his way out. Anti-Hicks and Gillett songs were still being sung
from the back room of the Sandon and by this time obviously word had gotten round. It must be
noted that Hicks seemed to leave due to his security staff’s insistence and was not chased out
the public house.
One fan did spit at Hicks, missing it must be noted, and one or two bottles were thrown at the
car waiting for him outside.
Whether or not you believe that this went too far or wasn’t far enough, the extremes of this
story have become more, well, extreme over time.
Hicks Jnr had miscalculated the deep-rooted feelings Reds have about Liverpool FC was
questioned accordingly.
This incident undoubtedly brought criticism and praise by fans. Some reading the reports in
various media outlets believe Hicks should have been ran out the pub for his family’s actions.
Some saw the act as an olive branch and praised Hicks for drinking with fans even with the
obvious safety concerns.
It could even be argued that the splits and factions in Liverpool fans were influenced by this
incident above all. From then on to some, any fan against Hicks and Gillett were yobs, hell bent
on vandalism to property and unhelpful behaviour. What was, by and large, an incident that
happened quickly and considering the importance of the situation, quietly, the consequent
media coverage shaped the way many thought afterwards.
When the upstairs of the Sandon – for so long a stronghold for Reds seeking a post-match drink
– was closed as the Americans had decided to use it for their corporate packages, there were
one or two ironic chuckles amongst Reds. Hicks obviously felt that having been run out the pub,
it was his turn to run the natives out as well.
Frustrated Pressure
At this point, it was fair to say that attitudes were changing. Protests were organised under the
Spirit of Shankly umbrella, and, only twelve months after the Athens protest, becoming
commonplace at Anfield. That is not to say this change in the makeup of Liverpool fans was to
be totally welcomed – everyone involved would have preferred to be sat in the comfort of the
pub with suitable custodians in charge, no doubt – but it was the shift in how people began to
think that is most significant when looking back on the American era in terms of Liverpool fans.
It was almost as though years of substandard service by the club, pre and post-Hicks and Gillett
promises broken on stadia, the Anfield area and a lack of real leadership from those at the top
had built up. It took a lot for Liverpool to break the mould and in the oft-quoted saying “be like
Newcastle”. It took a lot – the near sacking of a manager for non-football purposes and the dirty
linen being paraded in public – until fans got angry enough to march, shout and protest.
It seems strange that after outlining the extensive events of a small timescale, there is little else
that changed throughout Hicks and Gillett’s time. The same fans who were pissed off and
unhappy with protests, who believed it a contradiction of the fabled ‘Liverpool Way’ stayed
pissed off by and large. The same fans who saw Hicks and Gillett as a fight that needed to be
won by protesting, regularly protested.
There were numerous protests after the initial marches. An impromptu gathering in the Main
Stand car park after the Chelsea game that saw George Gillett met at his hotel (more on that
later) earlier in the day was loud and certainly got the message across to the two who were
holed up in the Main Stand. The protests prior to the Manchester United game in 08-09 and 09-
10 were more than memorable for numbers (estimates for both ranges from 2,000 to 10,000),
noise and presence, with banners, flags and wavers producing a strong message.
It went beyond songs and banners before selected home game. In the summer of 2009, a
‘renegade fans group’ (according to the Daily Post) targeted Royal Bank of Scotland branches by
chaining the locks and urging the bank to say no to refinancing Hicks and Gillett. Graffiti
appeared around Anfield and Melwood at various points, mainly concerning the Americans and
at times Christian Purslow.
The Spirit of Shankly held a meeting for members in Zeligs bar in the new Liverpool One, a new
venue. As well as offering draught beer rather than cans, and being a lot warmer than the Baltic
surroundings of the normal Olympia venue just outside the city centre, the new location would
be also be beneficial for events after the meeting.
During a typically passionate and eventful meeting, a source to one of the committee was
informed Tom Hicks was staying in the Radisson Hotel and George Gillett was in the Crown
Plaza. Both had dismissed all media enquiries on their visit out of hand: by this stage Gillett was
letting Hicks take the heat and staying schtum and Hicks was using Sky Sports News as his
media outlet. After all, why answer hard questions from a concerned fan base when you can
send Sky Sports a video from America and have it played on loop for the next twelve hours?
Word went round that Hicks was already enjoying the hospitality of the Anfield corporate
lounges already. It was agreed that if the owners of our football club were not willing to talk to
fans justifiably angry at the running of the club that they pump a large amount of money and
passion into, then the fans would go to him. Gillett was, according to sources, still in the Crowne
Plaza.
Some confusion reigned after the meeting was called, and as 20 or so marched the short
distance past the Albert Dock to the hotel, some remained at Zeligs, although numbers swelled
rapidly.
It’s funny because in numerous media sources, gaining entry to the CP was described by every
journalist (none of whom were present) as some sort of military operation. According to the
Echo “a number of supporters got past security to confront him.” As James Bond-esque as that
sounds the reality is unfortunately far less glamorous. A staff member opened the door and
welcomed the fans to the hotel in a friendly manner and cheerful manner.
The plan was to ask for Gillett at reception. When the inevitable denial of his residence came a
message was to be left that Liverpool fans the World over were not happy with his co-
ownership and wanted him to go.
But before the receptionist was asked an eagle-eyed member of the dozen spotted him sipping
coffee in the reception area.
His security tried to make fans leave with various arguments – “there’s children present” (there
was no swearing, no threats, and no scene) and “just leave him alone” being the most used –
whilst Gillett used the negotiating skills he’s obviously honed during years in business: he
picked his phone up and pretended to be talking to someone*. That’s right, an act most
teenagers try when their parents are asking them to clean their rooms, still used by apparent
billionaire businessmen.
After the Police were called by hotel management, Gillett agreed to speak with one fan and one
fan only. It must be noted that police were not called due to any offence caused but because
word had got round and the numbers outside the hotel were growing quickly.
James McKenna, SOS committee member took control and the situation and it was decided that
he was to be the representative. And as he managed to do what every media outlet in the World
wanted to do and grilled Gillett figuratively, fans outside aired their anger with a peaceful
protest approved by the police present.
When McKenna came out the songs stopped and everyone listened. Amongst the usual BS that
Messrs Hicks and Gillett were so fond of, we were told Gillett had claimed we had spent more
than anyone in the Premier League, were worth more now than them all, and that Rafael Benítez
had spoken to three other clubs about becoming manager. Unsurprisingly, he refused to name
the three clubs.
He believed he had been a fit and proper custodian, was open to selling his stake, and had foot
the bill with Hicks for players and £100m on a stadium that a year and half later is still on the
shelf. Lies, lies and more lies.
As McKenna made his way outside after the impromptu interview to address the fans outside
the CP, Gillett stated that “we were going well until someone opened his mouth” (Rafa Benitez
had gone public with his unhappiness with what he felt was unfair refereeing and decision
within the FA regarding United).
An open attack on a manager as we were in the middle of a title challenge. Thanks George.
As Gillett’s answers were relayed outside, the man himself was taken out the back door and
whisked to Anfield to watch Benítez’s side defeat Chelsea 2-0 on their way to an impressive
points tally that was never built on in the transfer market.
*For those wondering, the phone was a 1997-style Motorola. If ever proof was needed these two
were skint, it was there in George’s hand.
Fan Ownership
The concept of fan ownership was first mooted to much fanfare at the launch of Share Liverpool
on January 31st, 2008 – the same day the meeting at the Sandon took place across town.
It was well received. There was little to dislike about an idea that involved the fans taking
control of the club and running it in a democratic and open manner. The phrase “a debt-free club
is a rich club” was used, and at the time with details of the level of debt and lack of investment
being seen at the club becoming more apparent, Share Liverpool had support.
The huge elephant in the room for the Rogan Taylor-led group, was acquiring the necessary
funding to stage a takeover. Dubai International Capital had baulked at Hicks and Gillett’s asking
price, so what chance did the fans have, we all asked?
A website asking those interested to log their interest crashed under the weight of huge traffic.
But, getting involved was a vague term, and although Taylor often quoted the number of those
who had registered, the figure finally put on a share in the plan was its ultimate downfall in
many Liverpool eyes. That figure - £5,000 a share – turned a lot of attitudes towards Share
Liverpool from cautious optimism to disregard.
Things seemed to go quiet. A meeting was held at the Liverpool Lighthouse pub prior to an early
season, in which Labour MP Andy Burnham and Liverpool legends John Barnes, John Aldridge
and Phil Thompson threw their weight behind the group and plan. They spoke with passion, and
you could more than sense that they truly believe fan ownership could happen. But, the
question remained: just how can ordinary fans find £5,000 during a recession to put in?
Share Liverpool should be applauded for their part in bringing fan ownership to the masses, but
perhaps a lower asking price may have ignited that initial spark of enthusiasm. While efforts to
oust the Americans reached fever pitch, the fan ownership front went quiet.
The Spirit of Shankly used an Independence Day rally in July 2010 to launch its own fan
ownership campaign. With the Credit Union, the group and its members launched an initiative
that was due to start in August 2010 that would involve setting up an account and putting in
what could be afford, with the aim of saving £500 per member. Instead of outright fan
ownership – although that, like the Share Liverpool scheme, remained the ultimate goal – there
was a more modest aim of a share of the club.
Alas, at the time of writing (December 2010), the Credit Union scheme has not been launched,
and with new owners coming in, the fan ownership idea may have run out of steam.
The fact remains however, that Liverpool fans were now looking to wrestle control of the club
back. Gone were the days of blindly trusting the board to do what was right for the club. The
very fact fan ownership was, and still remains too many; an ideal proposition was proof indeed
of the shift in attitudes in some quarters.
It is no surprise then that the fight against Hicks and Gillett was also taken to new levels when
people used the vast array on resources available on the internet to keep the pressure on across
the pond.
Hicks’ bitter but certainly sweet parting shot about “internet terrorists” shows just how
influential the various groups were.
Hicks, of course, have more reason than most to curse the wonders of technology. Not only did
he see various desperate attempts at refinancing thwarted by on the ball Reds, his son Tom Jar
was forced to resign after Steve Horner, from the KopFaithful group, received a probably
inebriated reply to some reasonable questions of Jnr’s family’s running of the club: “Blow me
f*ckface. Go to hell. I’m sick of people like you.”
When one American Liverpool fan posted a picture of the two Hicks at a prominent New York
business quarter on the social networking website Twitter, it caused quite a stir. All banks with
headquarters in the surrounding area received a deluge of e-mails from Reds around the world
asking them not to refinance or loan money to the duo. Before the handshakes and pleasantries
had been exchanged, the banks were distancing themselves from Hicks in his hour of need.
The Save Liverpool group from website Redandwhitekop.com were equally as influential, so
much so that John Henry chose the group as one of the handful he met with upon becoming co-
owner of Liverpool.
The Spirit of Shankly used the internet to its benefit as well. When news came that Christian
Purslow was to attend a lunch with new club sponsors Standard Chartered at the London
Carriageworks restaurant in the city’s Hope Street, 30 members were organised at short notice
on a Thursday afternoon to confront the man dodging the questions fans had.
After the SOS urged fans that did not have work commitments to attend, the plug was pulled on
the event.
Maybe it was the Audi one Red had parked outside with “Kick Purslow Out” printed on the side!
Maybe Purslow and Standard Chartered had time in their schedules to rearrange events
apparently booked months in advance; maybe Purslow et al did actually have some excuse for
the late cancellation. Maybe Purslow didn’t want the sponsors to see the reality behind the
American ownership and his role in that. Maybe Purslow was unwilling to answer the questions.
But 30 people at short notice have made an impact. 30 at short notice ensured someone had felt
it necessary to have a police van parked outside.
It was not just UK-based Reds that became more willing to protest against the club - the power
of the internet and the changing ways fans used the information at their fingertips can never be
underestimated.
The Spirit of Shankly were in some quarters unpopular. There’s something very Liverpool about
the psyche of going against the grain. If something becomes popular or mainstream, it’s very
Liverpool to snipe and complain.
With the organisation set-up in the realisation that a manager was being deemed unfit to lead
Liverpool despite popularity among the fans, the manager issue blurred the lines for many. SOS
was seen as a pro-Benítez group, which was never the case. Even the fans braving sub-zero
temperatures to hand out leaflet outlining the debt and lies told were greeted by the minority
with comments such as “if it was Rafa out, I’d take one,” and “it’s not all the Yanks fault.”
There was also the incident at the SOS ‘End of Season Do’ in 2009. While a local musician was on
stage, he began an impromptu rendition of ‘Horse with No Name’, with the chorus punctured
with shouts of ‘Munich’. Not nice, not clever, and hugely damaging.
A video went on youtube, and was picked up by various news outlets. The Liverpool Echo
produced a piece on it, leading the issue to take on a life of its own. Many fans decried the SOS
for it, and a reputation was attributed to the group.
I was at the ‘do’ and can honestly say I left the Olympia that night not thinking about Munich
shouts during the songs, but happy with a well organised event. The videos were damaging –
people shouting Munich in front of a banner of Bill Shankly overlooking events seemed almost
choreographed – but, what could the SOS do? Go around kicking out everyone who had sung it?
It must be noted that over time it has become embellished to the point that media outlets would
have you believe the 1,000-strong crowd of members and non-members were involved: it was a
minority. As with the Sandon incident and the even the Crowne Plaza, the story grew legs of its
own.
As time went on, the former players fans had been looking for to put their considerable weight
behind campaigns to rid the club of Hicks and Gillett began to stir. Other than Jason McAteer,
later John Aldridge, Phil Thompson and Howard Gayle and in their last days a few others
crawling out the woodwork, it was the fans fight from start to finish.
Too many ex-players were too concerned with their place on the gravy train that is club
speaking engagements cushy pundit jobs and keeping the club sweet. People like Aldridge and
Thompson did, one sensed, genuinely had a dilemma on speaking out, but both fought the fans
case to some extent.
The rest sat back and gave no help at all. It was crying out for an ex-player to boost the
campaign. The cavalry arrived, but too late. That should never, ever be forgotten.
End Game
With the battle between the ‘home team’ of the Liverpool board – Martin Broughton, Ian Ayres
and Christian Purslow – and the by now flatling Hicks and Gillett having reached London’s High
Court, there was to be one last incident that summed up the 44 months of the American
nightmare.
In a saga that gets more surreal by the day, even this surprised.
Around 30 minutes into Wednesday's judgement, Christian Purslow, a man who I've held
nothing but contempt for the previous twelve months turned to me as I stood nose pressed
against the glass of Court 18 in London's High Court, winked, gave a thumbs up and mouthed:
“They're gone. They're gone.”
The day started like so many London trips have done; a cold wait for a coach at the Rocket while
the only souls around are milkmen and drunkards stumbling home from a night on the sauce. It
was, however, a day that was nothing like any London trip before nor any future trip to the
capital. On a coach, a fantastic gesture by the Spirit of Shankly by the way, not to a match, but to
a court. That we never expected to be able to enter and to a case that was not guaranteed to
reach a conclusion that day.
Whilst passing Trafalgar Square, the luxurious stretch of shops down Knightsbridge there was a
strange atmosphere on board. No spotting of home fans resulting in windows being banged and
insults being traded. A request by Radio Five Live for an interviewee was made, rather than a
rallying call.
Ryanair chief Michael O'Leary stood outside court upon our arrival telling any media that would
half listen that his company had "bought Liverpool Football Club", in his Hi Tech trainers. A
court case involving ‘celebrities’ (in the loosest sense of the word) Katie Price and Peter Andre
was set to begin. This combination of the surreal and the embarrassing in and around the court
was a stark contrast to the sombre 7/7 terrorist attack hearing also taking place.
Upon arrival at the High court just after the 10am start, entry was not expected. However after
seeing the first few successful entries into the court, everyone followed suit and after getting
through the security check – passing the Andre v Price case in the process – we walked into
court 18.
There in the tiny public gallery, an assortment of journalists and fans strained to hear what
Justice Floyd was saying. Suits and notepads mingled with trainers and scarves. Every time the
door opened disapproving shakes of heads were directed at the door. Every whisper or cough
drew sighs.
Sure enough upon reaching the front of the gallery we found ourselves a yard away from the
'home team' – Messrs Broughton, Ayre and Purslow. As the words of Justice Floyd were
becoming harder to hear as various reporters ran in and out to rely goings on to colleagues, for
the next half an hour the body language of the three became our way of trying to grasp what
was going on.
Broughton remained emotionless throughout, bar one or two knowing nods to his fellow board
members. Ayre tried to do the same, nodding and smiling in agreement with Floyd, before
quickly regaining composure. Purslow was a contrast to both: he exchanged nods with the two
fans behind him, laughed at the poster with a mocked Broughton holding a sign proclaiming
“We Win!” the fans had in their possession and looked back to myself and a friend with the afore
mentioned gesture, and other reassuring gestures towards the end of the case. Confidence in the
board's case against Hicks was certainly high with Purslow.
And after the case had finished the board slapped the backs of fans in the gallery telling each
one “Thanks for coming up.” It was another strange moment in a strange day. Men who for
months we've held banners up against, disrupted dinner plans for and chanted again shaking
hands and delivering the news we've waited two a half years for.
As fans, media and the board made their way out of the court, the media scrum inside the court
paled into insignificance with the masses of photographers outside the court. A few cringe-
worthy chants of “We love your Martin, we do!” and an unnecessary “You lying bastards” may
have followed, but most fans enjoyed their brief moments of fame. Competitive reporters
swarmed around the Reds who had travelled desperate for an interview and reaction from
Reds; some revelled in their false fame, although the reporter's job was made difficult by the
number of “I'm supposed to be off sick” responses they got.
It was then over to the George pub opposite the court for yet another bizarre event. Cheers
echoed around as Sky Sports News aired the interviews and continued every time the
enthusiastic presenter emphatically told us “Liverpool FC are set to be sold”. As journalists on
laptops filed their reports back to their respective newsrooms, fans sang “Scouser Tommy” and
“We're gonna bounce in a minute”. A post-court singsong if you will.
As we made our way to the coach – after a live SSN appearance – ale was stocked up and the
mood on board the coach heading back North was euphoric. As one Red perfectly put it: “It's the
first away this season we've come away with a win in.”
Of course euphoria turned to anger and confusion upon a half-drunk return home. Hicks had his
injunction from a Dallas courtroom, and had thrown yet another spanner in the works. It was
merely delaying the inevitable, but typical of a desperate man.
But the nauseating memory of watching the club's future being played out in a courtroom rather
than on the pitch will linger long in the memory. The sight of suits standing up and battling for
our future rather than players is one we should never have to go through again. Hopefully Hicks
we can start concentrating on events on the field rather than mind-numbing litigation after the
deal was finally given the green light.
Delighted to see the back of Hicks and Gillett, ecstatic that a three and a half year battle had
been won, vindicated when the media started singing the fans praises. But, and most
importantly, cautious.
There is a feeling that fans will not be won over by cowboy boots with liverbirds etched on, or
that words and not actions will suffice from owners.
The Spirit of Shankly now gives fans a fantastic platform to influence the club on a variety of
issues. You get the sense that people are less likely to pay their money and keep quiet. And, nor
should they.
The Hicks and Gillett era signalled unpleasantness all round. No-one enjoys or wants to protest
against the club they love. But if one positive can be taken from January 2007 to October 2010,
it’s the fact that the fan base changed in such a fashion that future unsuitable custodians will not
have it so easy for so long.
Mark Piercy
piercymark@Gmail.com