At first his favourite act on saturday afternoon trick was a disappearing act. I remember him coming up to me after his Merseyside derby match and saying that he should have paid to get in because all he was doing was watching the ball past him. In Denmark he had learnt his remarkable skills in isolation. He was probably the sort of boy who spent hours in the family garden playing with a ball on his own. If he had spent those hours practising his technique in the middle of a motorway he might have been prepared for life in the first division.
It took Jan a year or so to come up with a survival plan that would see him go through an English season. He became a more aggressive person. The fans christened him "Rambo" in recognition of the fact. Danes are generally carefree and easy-going types by nature. Jan had fourteen and a half stone to throw around and we had to encourage him to use it.
Certainly when he is allowed the time to play the way he likes, he is a treat to watch. He just seems to flick and jab at the ball and it flies off his foot. Everything he does is so sweet and crisp. He can't get enough of the ball when everything is running for him. He's like a compulsive gambler. No pass is too difficult to try, no shooting chance is allowed to go untaken. He can go trough a ten minute spell when you think he's operating it by remote control. He could go on the stage with his repertoire of party pieces if he ever was short of a few bob. Getting that repertoire to stretch to 90 minutes per game and 60 games per season is the trick that he is bound to find the most difficult to master.
Copyright - Clive Tyldesley from his book "Bob Paisley's personal view of the First Team Squad of 1986-87".
"Loved the man to bits - was simply THE best manager I have ever seen. I remember being taken to the FA Cup 3rd round at Stamford Bridge back in 1982, I was 11yrs old. Walking to the stand where we were sitting, I remember my mates dad (Frank) saying "Look who's coming, it's the Great Man himself". I looked up and scanned the area for a matter of seconds. Then, I knew who he meant - Bob Paisley was walking directly towards us and there I was, draped in red and white round my neck and on top of my head. Frank, who was 'known' in the football world, held out his hand to Bob and we stood there for about 3 minutes chatting with the Great Man. I remember to this day, the warm, smooth, gigantic hand that smothered mine as we finally shook hands. I didn't speak a word until I was spoken to....he asked if I was looking forward to the match and make sure I had a good one! A gentle 'scruff' on the head and we parted company...me looking round at who we had just met! I was beaming from ear to ear and could have gone home there and then.
The result in the end, 2-0 to Chelsea, didn't really matter....I'd met the Great Man himself."
-El Phes- (a member of RAWK forum)