We Conquered All of Europe by Jeff Goulding

Author:Jeff Goulding
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pitch Publishing
Published: 2019-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

‘Madrid had all the fucking luck

We swear we’ll keep on being cool

And bring it back to Liverpool.’

And that was one promise Jürgen would keep.

Arise Sir Kenny, but in Liverpool you will always be King

As the injustices of the final in Kiev were slowly being put to bed, another lingering gripe of many Liverpool fans were finally laid to rest. Their hero, club legend and icon, Kenny Dalglish, had never been honoured by the nation. Manchester United’s Alex Ferguson had been made a knight of the realm, but not Kenny. However, all that was about to change.

On 8 June 2018, it was announced that Kenneth Mathieson Dalglish, a man the Kop had anointed King four decades earlier, would become a knight. The honorific ‘Sir’ would now forever preface his name.

It may surprise some to know that the award divided opinion among Reds, particularly those on Merseyside. While many Liverpool fans had looked at the granting of similar honours to men like Alex Ferguson and argued that overlooking Kenny was an affront, others would point out that, in Liverpool, we have no time for such trinkets.

The appreciation of his people is honour enough, surely.

For the record, had he never been knighted, Kenny would have been more than happy with his status among the Liverpool faithful. However, some felt he was a more than worthy recipient, given his contribution to the club and city, on and off the field.

I admit to feeling conflicted about the subject myself. I’m no royalist, and while I can accept that a nation should honour its finest citizens, I associate such things with an establishment complicit in many of my city’s problems. In wrestling with the issue, I reflected on how for most of my life, Kenny Dalglish has been a significant figure, and not just in a purely footballing sense.

I wrote the following for This is Anfield on 10 June 2018, and I think it encapsulates my feelings on the subject perfectly.

Kenny Dalglish: In Liverpool we call him King

It’s the summer of 1977, August. The sun is blazing and there’s Union Jack bunting still hanging from some of the telephone wires in my road.

The silver jubilee celebrations and street parties are behind us, but some can’t be bothered taking all the flags down.

We didn’t mind displaying the nation’s emblem in Liverpool, back then.

It had been a great summer already. The weather was great and memories of the ’77 European Cup victory parade were fresh in my mind. They easily eclipsed the pain of losing to United in the FA Cup, and besides, who wanted to be kings of England when you could rule over an entire continent?

I’m on my way to the shop with my mum. I’m annoyed for two reasons: number one, she’s dragged me away from playing football in the street with my mate Dave. I’m still carrying the ball under my arm. It was a ‘Casey’ and, at the time, my pride and joy. Number two, Dave had just told me he won’t be supporting Liverpool anymore.

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