The agony and the bliss of the 1964-65 Liverpool season

One week after facing the might of Stockport County we were pitted against FC Cologne of West Germany in the next round of the European Cup. The tie was to take three games to decide and even then it took the toss of a coin to find the winner! The first leg took place in Germany and ended up a very satisfactory 0-0 draw but the 2nd leg at Anfield was very nearly a precursor to Hillsborough.

As was becoming the norm in the sixties it was necessary to get to Anfield very early for the big games as tickets were only issued to the softies in the stands. Those of us on the terraces had to queue at the turnstiles and it was a case of ‘first come first served’. For the big league games: Everton, Tottenham Hotspur, Leeds United and Manchester United and at the European Cup ties you had to be at the ground anything up to an hour and a half before kick-off to be sure of getting in. The old days of having a few pints in the ‘Albert’ or the ‘Park’ and walking into the Kop 5 minutes before the game started had long gone.

The 2nd leg of the Cologne tie had caught the supporters’ imagination and the ground was full a good hour before kick-off at which point a very unusual thing happened. It started to snow. In March!! At the time it seemed to be a mere inconvenience. You were never cold in the middle of 28000 Kopites but by about 7.00pm the snow had started to stick and the pitch was turning into a white blanket, to such an extent that the groundstaff were forced to start brushing the pitch markings which had been obliterated. The problem was that a stiff wind had got up and as soon as a section of white line had been brushed clear it was being covered again by the snow, which by this time was, literally, a storm.

The Cologne players and staff came out to test the playing surface but there was a problem – you couldn’t see the playing surface!! The referee was summoned, Shankly was summoned and the Cologne manager was summoned. All three walked to the centre circle (or at least to where they thought that the centre circle might have been) and there was much shaking of heads. An interpreter was called for (who we subsequently found out was the great ex Manchester City goalkeeper Bert Trautman) and an announcement was made that if the snow had not stopped and the pitch had not been cleared by 7.45pm then the game would be called off. It was obvious that things would not improve in such a short time and shortly after 7.30 came the inevitable announcement that the game was off.

And that was when the problems really started. An announcement was made to ticket holders in the stands that their tickets would be valid for the game when it was eventually played and the rest of us were told that a further announcement would be made shortly. The dilemma that the authorities had, of course, was that we had all paid cash to get in and none of us had a ticket to prove that we done so. Had they said that it was hard luck on us that the game had been called off and that we would have to pay again to see the re-arranged match they would have had a riot on their hands. Nor was it practical to try to reimburse everybody.

In the event what they did was advise us that we would be given a pass-out ticket which would admit us to the replay but that it would take them half an hour or so to make the necessary arrangements with the turnstile operators. We were then expected to leave the ground by exiting through the turnstiles IN REVERSE!!

These announcements were made around 8.00pm and the atmosphere in the Kop was reasonable at that time but when 8.30 came and there had been no movement things started to get a little fraught. A lot of supporters had spilled onto the pitch which meant that there was some space on the Kop to move around and to appreciate what happened next it is necessary to have some knowledge of the layout of the old Kop terrace. At ground level in the corner where the Kop met the Main Stand (immediately below where the old Boy’s Pen used to be) there was a huge wooden gate that slid open and closed on rollers. It must have been 20 feet wide and almost as tall and it was obviously opened at the end of each game to facilitate the emptying of the ground.

I found myself pressed up against this gate just at the time that the crowd started to get restless about the apparent lack of action. There was a huge crush as people who were still on the Kop terrace tried to get close to the turnstiles in that corner of the ground. I was forced against the door and could hardly breathe, which was bad enough, but after a couple of minutes (which seemed like a couple of hours) there was an ominous creaking sound as the door started to give way under the pressure of people. At that point a miracle happened. Within the body of the collapsing wooden door was a small conventional sized gate, which was presumably used by the groundstaff to enter and leave the ground on non-match days. I hadn’t realised that it was there but just as I thought that I was about to take my leave of this world the small gate opened and a policeman quietly ushered me, and no doubt several thousand other grateful supporters, out of the ground. To complete the miracle the bobby had a sheaf of pass-out tickets as well so we all got to see the re-arranged game without having to pay again!

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that had that policeman not opened the small gate when he did the wooden door would have collapsed within seconds and carnage to rival Hillsborough would have ensued. I have come out in a cold sweat just relating the events.