Bob's reign began back in ‘74,
When Shankly the legend walked out of the door.
Though it felt like the end, it was just the beginning,
Of nine glorious years, of red trophy winning.
Bob's first season in, we were runners up,
We won the Charity Shield, but alas, not a cup.
But Bob was just laying, down his own plans,
To bring home success, to Liverpool's fans.
The following season, Bob's dream, it came true,
When the title was won, down at old Molyneux.
The UEFA cup followed, no way could we lose,
And we brought home the trophy, by beating the Bruges.
But then came along, the real hammer blow,
Keegan told Bob, that he wanted to go.
But not even that, was going to stop,
Bob's red machine rising up to the top.
The title boxed off, and so on to Rome,
To try and bring old big ears home.
And the Curva Nord, was a wondrous sight,
Red & white chequered flags, unfurled in the night.
A goal from McDermott, and one from Smithy,
The win was secured by Neal's penalty.
With the result up in lights, for the whole world to see,
It's Borussia 1 and Liverpool 3.
The footballing God's then looked down from Heaven,
As Bob brought in Kenny, our new number 7.
For a fee so low, it was surely a joke,
Nah! it was just another Bob masterstroke.
And so on to Wembley, in ‘78,
Securing Bob's status as a footballing great.
To the delight of the joyous, heaving red mass,
As Kenny chipped in from Souness' pass.
Then two more league titles in successive years,
As Bob's red machine just eased through the gears.
Then over the Channel, to 'Arl Gay Paree,
It's Barney! ONE-NIL !!, and that's number 3.
The League cup and titles, won in Bob's last two years.
Up to the Royal box, to Anfield South's cheers.
And then it was time, for a well earned rest,
Bob had proved beyond doubt, he was simply the best.
The tragedy was, Bob's own memories,
Were taken from him, by a cruel disease.
But close your eyes for a moment,
And I'm sure you will see,
The LEGEND in a cardie,
THE GREAT BOB PAISLEY.
Author: Chris Moran
"Whenever anyone ever starts on about just how good any manager is or was, I always get slightly frustrated, then I realise it doesn’t really matter too much. Because I know the truth. I watched it happen. As someone who isn’t a scouser, was never really a fan of Liverpool as a kid, even when Shankly was about. What I saw, unfolding right before my eyes, so that even I could grasp was the sight of someone moulding and forming the best set of teams ever to grace the game. He altered all of it; from the way the players physically became slimmer and lither than the past, to their astounding fitness levels, to the tactics he employed. I’ve seen the lot in my time: all the great teams; all the great players. All of them. And not one manager could make great team after great team like Bob Paisley could. Look at his record.
So let others go on about Sir Alex and everyone else they want to hold up as an example. It doesn’t really matter. Because like the jockey who rode the amazing Secretariat said once, ‘Personally, I never get involved when people start talking about greatness. Because none of them who ever talk about it, ever rode this horse. I did. I know‘ And that’s how I feel still. I’m nearly 60 now and I’m not likely to see a football manager again who could hold a candle to Bob Paisley. Let others yak on and talk. I know he was the best I’ll ever see in my life. I know.“
Liverpool fan Chris Hayes