do u mean average premier league match or anfield ticket? last time was 33 quids, but i read this season the price increased.

chelsea among the easiest to get the ticket. u can buy 5 tickets online. emirates at that time was the most expensive, around 35-37 quids.

the championship league around 20+ quids.

but these prices was in 2007. i dont know now.

He didnt take a paycut as far as I m concerned because he didnt sign a new contract.In other words, he was still underpaid while he was with us.

As far as I know, Masch accepted a paycut of 20% less than original amount that Barca had offered him so that the money can be used to finance his transfer fee as Barca is reluctant to pay the price that Liverpool had asked. Still his current wage is higher than what we paid him before.

What Liverpool Football Club means to people

"Liverpool is not only a club. It's an institution. And my aim was to bring the people close to the club and the team and for them to accepted as a part of it. The effect was that wives brought their late husband's ashes to Anfield and scattered them on the pitch after saying a little prayer. That's how close the people have come to this club. When they wanted to scatter the ashes of their loved one, who wanted to be part of the club when they were dead, I said to them: 'In you come, you're welcome.' And they trooped in by the dozen.people not only support Liverpool when they're alive. They support them when they are dead. This is the true story of Liverpool.

One night the Liverpool chairman, T.V. Williams, called in to Anfield at around half nine to collect some paperwork. The offices were dark and deserted, but just as he was about to leave, Williams noticed a light shining from the steps of one of the exits in the Kop. Illuminated by the light, Williams saw a box of tools on the terracing. Curious to know who was on the premises at such an hour, he walked over to the Kop and proceeded down the steps at the back of the stand. The light was coming from one of the toilet blocks where he found Shankly and Paisley in overalls, painting the walls an ceiling

As far as I know, Masch accepted a paycut of 20% less than original amount that Barca had offered him so that the money can be used to finance his transfer fee as Barca is reluctant to pay the price that Liverpool had asked. Still his current wage is higher than what we paid him before.

What I'd like to see is the team become less reliant on Torres. He's not had the best support and too often, we give him the ball, expecting him to conjure something out of nothing. Since he's raided Fulham, I really wish we could have pried Clint Dempsey away. Our attacking options are so limited and too often, we look blunt as we did against West Brom.

"We were back at Anfield and Shanks was up to his old tricks. As the United party made their way down the corridor to the away changing room, he appeared from his office. 'Guess what, boys?' he said, brandishing a little orange ticket. 'I've had a go on the tickets that give the time when the away team will score. And it says here, in a fortnight!' With that, he disappeared back into his office.

We lost that encounter 2-0 and after the game I was chatting to Liverpool's Ray Clemence, who revealed to me another piece of Shankly kidology.

Prior to the game, Shankly had received the United team sheet and he incorporated it into his team talk. His intention was to run us down and, in so doing, boost the confidence of his own players. 'Alex Stepney,' Shanks began. 'A flapper of a goalkeeper. Hands like a Teflon frying pan - non-stick. Right back, Shay Brennan. Slow on the turn, give him a roasting. Left back is Tony Dunne. Even slower than Brennan. He goes on an overlap at twenty past three and doesn't come back until a quarter to four. Right half, Nobby Stiles. A dirty little -beep-. Kick him twice as hard as he kicks you and you'll have no trouble with him.'

'Bill Foulkes, a big, cumbersome centre half who can't direct his headers. He had a head like a sheriff's badge, so play on him. Paddy Crerand. Slower than steam rising off a dog turd. You'll bypass him easily.' The Liverpool players felt as if they were growing in stature with his every word. 'David Sadler,' Shanks continued. 'Wouldn't get a place in our reserves. And finally, John Aston. A chicken, hit him once and you'll never hear from him again. As the manager finished his demolition job on United, Emlyn Hughes raised his hand. 'That's all very well, boss,' he said, 'but you haven't mentioned George Best, Denis Law or Bobby Charlton.' Shanks turned on him. 'You mean to tell me we can't beat a team that has only three players in it?' he said, glowering."

Alan Ball was Everton's idol at the time while his father, Alan Ball Snr, was the manager of Preston. Alan Snr asked Shankly if he wanted to accompany him to a midweek game against Wrexham. Shanks agreed, but said he would follow Alan in his own car in case he wanted to drive home before the end of the game. Shankly was uncertain of the directions to Wrexham, so Ball Snr agreed that Shanks would drive behind him.

When he turned up at Shankly's house, Bill was pleased to see Alan Jnr. in the car with his father as he admired him as a player. When the two cars reached the Mersey tunnel, Shankly was struggling to keep up and ground to halt halfway through the tunnel. Shankly was renowned for his lack of driving skills and was rather accident prone. Shanks couldn't restart the engine. Ball Snr. was naturally concerned, 'I'll tell you what, Bill. I've got a rope in the boot. I'll attach it to your car and tow you to the tunnel exit. We'll then call a mechanic to sort out the problem. Shankly paused for a few seconds, thinking over Ball Snr's suggestion and then exclaimed: 'I don't think that's a good idea, son. Can you imagine the headlines in tomorra's Echo?' "SHANKLY DRAGGED OUT OF THE MERSEY TUNNEL BY THE BALLS."

Kopulater from RAWK forum
"I remember a home game the week after we had lost to Everton. Shanks was signing autographs at the Anfield players entrance and he would not sign with a pen that had blue ink, so all of us kids were running round looking for somebody who had red or green ones. He was the greatest - never to be replaced no matter what we win."

Vic Gill, Shankly's son-in-law
Just one of my abiding memories of him, We were sitting at the dinner table waiting for Nessie to serve Sunday lunch when the door bell rang. Mr. Shankly went to open the door, there was a muted conversation then he came back and said "Nessie put my dinner in the oven I'm going out to play football with the lads", now the lads just happened to be a few local teenagers

"Shanklyboy"
I have many a memory that I could share...... could talk all day about him.

However I'll just put this as an indicator to some of our younger fans as to what Shankly was all about.

Midweek game in the 70s.
A group of rag arsed Liverpool fans hitch down to London for a game against Spurs.
No tickets....no money.

Liverpool put in a poor display and lose the game.

The same group of lads are waiting to see the team outside the players entrance after the match.
They file past onto the team coach.
After a while Shanks comes out...sees the lads and stops for a chat.

He soon realises they don't have a carat and are going to hitch it back to London.
He tells them to follow him and leads them onto the team coach.

He stands at the front and rips the players apart......informing them that these lads are why they play for Liverpool.
That while they are in a warm comfy coach,then in their warm comfy beds.... these boys will be on a motorway somewhere.

He tells them to put their hands in their pockets so the lads can have something to eat and get home properly.
The players duly oblige, Shanks thanks them for their support and hands them enough cash to get to New York and back.

He tells the players that if they had shown as much passion and commitment tonight against Spurs as these lads had in getting there to support them, they wouldn't have had a problem.

Different time, different world.....same philosophy demanded today.

"Boston-Sox"
I met Bill Shankly in the Seventies. It was following an away game in London. I used to travel to all of Liverpool games mainly on my own by train. I had just got on the train at Euston when the Liverpool team and Bill Shankly got on. I was in the first 2ed class carriage after the buffet bar the team were in the last first class carriage on the other side of the buffet bar After we had been under way for a bit the door of the buffet bar opened and out came Bill Shankly. He spoke to some fans, signed autographs and photos. He came to the table I was sitting at and sat opposite me. He asked me what I thought of the performance. We had won and the Reds had played well. He asked me how long I had supported Liverpool and I told him I had seen two or three games before he had arrived at Anfield. He smiled at that. He asked me who my favourite player was and I replied Emlyn Hughes. He told me the story of how he had signed Emlyn. He then got out some black and white photographs of him on the pitch at Anfield posing with the FA Cup. He also gave me a card with his private address on and invited me to have tea with him and nessie sometime and his phone number to let him know when I could come .Unfortunatly I never went.

He gave me a note saying hand this in at the players enterance whenever I am at Anfield providing it wasn't a matchday and I could have a quick tour of Anfield. This I did and saw the old trophy room the dressing rooms .I got to touch the This Is Anfield Sign and walk on the pitch. I met Emlyn, Chris Lawler and Ian Callaghan .I'll never forget Bill he was just like anyones granddad or father. He was so friendly and a true gentleman.

YNWA Bill

R.I.P

TOMMY SMITH - Liverpool 1962-1978 (on the unfortunate guinea pig, Jimmy Melia)
"Known to the lads as Bald Eagle, Jimmy always looked older than he was. He had this ritual of coming in for a rub-down every day, whether he was injured or not. Shanks, of course, would always be keeping any eye on Jimmy to see if he was actually carrying an injury. I was on the groundstaff at the time and in on the Sunday, as usual, to help brush the dressing-rooms and terraces as well as generally tidying things up at Anfield with the other younger lads. As usual, Jimmy was in the treatment room for his rub-down. As groundstaff boys we didn't go anywhere near the dressing room or any of the inner sanctum areas without knocking on the door and asking permission. This day, Shanks came out, wearing a beaming smile. 'Boys, put your brushes down and come in here. I want you to see the latest in football technology.'

Now he used to be proud if the toilets were given a lick of paint. Can you imagine what he was like with a new piece of equipment that had been designed to treat injuries and shorten the recovery period? He was full of praise for the German manufacturers. 'Great inventors, the Germans, amazing bit of gadgetry this. Cost us two thousand pounds, but it will be worth every penny, won't it, Bob?' Bob Paisley gave us a knowing look. He was from the old school of treating players and clearly wasn't as enthusiastic as Shanks.

'Aye', said Bill. 'It will nullify injuries. Marvellous invention.' He was clearly desperate to try it out. 'Who's in Bob?. Jimmy Melia is here again! He'll do.'

The next thing, Jimmy is sitting on a table alongside this machine and Bob is fitting the electrodes to his legs. The logic was simple. The machine sent out an electric impulse. This worked the muscle which in turn helped the flow of blood. All very straightforward. The kind of thing Bob would do with his experienced hands. But Shanks was in full flow. He had his audience, ten groundstaff lads, and we listened as he explained the way the various dials worked.

'It's marked one to ten. It's a low on one, high power on ten. Go on, Jimmy son, we'll leave it to you to take the pain strain. See how far you can go.' Jimmy turned it on to number one. No effect. He turned the dial two more notches. Nothing. He got to five and was still telling the boss that he couldn't feel anything. 'Bob', said Shanks, beginning to get annoyed, 'perhaps these bloody Germans aren't as inventive as I thought. Either that or Jimmy is immune to pain.' Melia pressed on... six, seven, eight. 'Still nothing, boss.' Suddenly the dial was all the way to ten and Jimmy was just sitting there, shaking his head, 'No, nothing.'

Shanks was furious, 'German crap', he was screaming. 'They haven't got a clue. You can send this back to Munich and tell them they can stick it up their backsides. Two thousand pounds? Get your sponge out, Bob. You might need it.'

Bob just stood there, wearing this little light brown coat that made him look more like a grocer than a medical expert. We were all dying to laugh. You could see one or two shoulders shaking as we tried to stifle our mirth. We began to back towards the door, when Shanks suddenly said, 'Christ, Bob, you haven't even turned it on!' He flicked the switch and poor Jimmy, still on a maximum setting of ten, nearly hit the ceiling. Sparks were coming out of his ears. His hair would have stood on end if he'd had any. We all ran out, exploding with laughter. As we headed down the corridor, Shanks was right behind us and shouting, 'That'll teach the Bald Eagle to come in for a treatment on a Sunday.'

NESSIE SHANKLY - Bill's dearly beloved wife
"Bill would often make visits to the local children's hospital at Alder Hey. Some of the children were terminally ill and when he arrived home in the evening after visiting them he would break down in tears. It was because he didn't have the ability to make them better. I did suggest to him that perhaps he should think about taking a break from his hospital visits, and he would get angry and say, 'I've said I'll visit the children and I'll go on visiting them.' and that was that."

GEORGE BEST - Man Utd and Northern Ireland legend
"In 1967, we arrived at Anfield to play Liverpool and as I glanced out of the window of the coach I saw Bill Shankly standing at the main entrance. I was the first player to alight from the coach and when I reached the entrance Bill shook my hand warmly. 'Good to see you again, George,' he said. 'You're looking well, son.'

This was unusual for him, and knowing Shanks to be a wily old fox, I decided to hang around to try to find out what he was up to. As each of the United players entered Anfield, Shanks shook his hand, welcomed him and told him how good he looked. Eventually, Bobby Charlton, a born worrier, came up to Shanks.

'Bobby, son. Good to see you,' Shanks said, shaking his hand. 'But by God, if ever there was a man who looked ill, it's you, Bobby!'

Bobby's face went as colourless as an icicle. 'Ill? I look ill?' he repeated, running the fingers of his right hand over his forehead and down his right cheek. He was visibly shaken.

'Aye, Bobby, son. You look like you're sickening for something. If I were you I'd see a doctor as soon as you set foot back in Manchester.' Shanks patted Bobby on the back and took off down the corridor, leaving him trembling in the foyer.

In the dressing room, Bobby was conspicious by his absence and, ominously, there was a delay in announcing the team. We sat around kicking our heels, no one daring to get changed in case Matt Busby had a tactical plan which meant leaving one of us out. The thought of getting changed only to be told to put your clothes back on because you're not in the team is a player's nightmare.

Eventually Matt Busby entered the dressing room with Jimmy Murphy and told us they had reshuffled the team which had beaten West Ham the previous week. Bobby Charlton was unavailable. He'd suddenly been taken ill."

Shanks may have left the club all those years ago, but his spirit will always live on, and when he died unexpectedly in September 1981 after suffering a heart attack, his loss was greatly mourned by both Liverpool and the football family.
 
In fact his good friend Sir Matt Busby was so upset when he heard the news that he couldn't even answer the telephone that morning.

In the years following his resignation, to the disbelief of the fans, relations between him and the club he so loved had become somewhat strained. But there was no such problem on the terraces. In the first game at Anfield following his funeral, a huge banner was unfurled on the Kop which read 'Shankly Lives Forever'.
 
Indeed, his spirit is just as strong at Anfield to this day, where a statue to the great man stands before his beloved Kop and the Shankly Gates bear the immortal words "You'll never walk alone".
 
Certainly Shankly never walked alone and he is revered by all Liverpool supporters.
 
This was no better demonstrated than on December 18, 1999 when the 40th anniversary of Shankly's arrival at Anfield was celebrated in a manner that took the breath away.
 
Nearly the whole of the 1965 and 1974 FA Cup winning teams came together to view the exhibition commemorating Shankly and then paraded onto the pitch, where they stood in silence as two bagpipers played "Amazing Grace."
 
12,000 voices on the Kop gently sang the word 'Shankly' to the tune as they held up a mosaic bearing his face and the Saltire. The version of "You'll Never Walk Alone" that followed rivaled any previously heard before.
 
His legend will shine bright long into the new Millennium and the Reds will always be grateful to a man who altered our destiny forever.

He stopped going to Melwood and he stopped watching home matches from the Directors’ Box at Anfield. But he still went and watched from other parts of the stadium, mostly from the Main Stand but one day he kept a promise he had made to go on the Kop. I remember the day well. We were playing Coventry. The crowd was well below capacity and the game was nothing special, a 1-1 draw. But midway through the first half from my seat in what was then the Kemlyn Road stand I became aware of a commotion going on towards the Main Stand side of the Kop. We were all bemused about what was going on but then a chant of “Shankly, Shankly” broke out and it all became clear. He had just turned up, paid to go in like anyone else and stood as anonymously as he could (which is a misnomer if ever I heard one!) and watched the game from there.

bill shankly.. the greatest manager that nobody can compare not even the **** of mu? lolz..

I remembered that Bill was best buddies with Sir Matt Busby. When Bill passed away, Sir Matt was so devastated that he didn't pick up the phone when the press asked him about Bill's death and he moved out temporarily from Manchester to avoid people asking him about it.

Shankly was so humble and noble, he praised his buddy Sir Matt as the greatest manager ever (source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmqbKBl22CA). But to me, Shankly and Busby (not to forget Paisley, Nigel Clough, Don Revie etc etc) all fall under the same category as being unique and great.

I read a book about Shankly and was amazed on his quotes, his philosophies and also on how he manage to build a club from nothing (sorry to say this) into European Kings and laid everything for Paisley to build that great Liverpool team.

Happy birthday Bill Shankly..

thanks for the story duke! i've read it so many times but i still them and smile. especially the story with the Balls. 

maybe should be stickied?

Thanks for that. You are right, they were good friends and it just goes to show that rivals can have a great sense of respect for one another. Err dude, you meant Brian Clough and not Nigel eh?