From the 1960s until the 1990s, for the best part of four decades, the most important
room at Anfield was a small, dingy broom cupboard under the main stand. It wasn’t a room filled
with innovative new technology or anything that suggested it really mattered at all.
It was simply a place where six of Liverpool’s greatest minds came together to talk. They
were Joe Fagan, Bob Paisley, Ronnie Moran, Roy Evans, Tom Saunders and Reuben Bennett.
Together, their discussions in what became known as the Boot Room propelled the club
towards success in the 70s and 80s. Fagan, writing in his diary, described the
décor of the room. “In time it would become furnished with
luxuries like a rickety old table and a couple of plastic chairs, a tatty piece of carpet
on the floor and a calendar on a wall that would later be adorned with photographs, ripped
from newspapers, of topless models. There was little evidence to suggest this room was
even part of a football club.” But it was a key part of a football club that
would soon become one of the most successful in Europe. When Shankly was appointed as Liverpool’s
manager in 1959, there were concerns amongst the backroom staff that he would bring his
own team with him. Instead, he chose to stick with the incumbent
coaches. “Some managers bring their own people with them,” Shankly told them. “Not
me. I have my own system and it will work in co-operation with you.”
The origins of the Boot Room can be traced back to Fagan, who had taken to storing crates
of Guinness where the players’ boots were kept. The beer was provided by the chairman
of Guinness Exports, whose Runcorn works team had been using Liverpool’s facilities.
Naturally, staff gravitated towards the alcohol, and before long the Boot Room was where coaches
convened to plan for the future, to discuss tactics and strategies. That they were occasionally
mildly inebriated didn’t detract from the important work that took place in this cramped,
unglamorous space. “The Boot Room was never really about a
place; it was never about bricks and mortar,” wrote Peter Hooton in his book The Boot Room
Boys. “It was about an alliance of people who had a common goal, common values and the
people who created the philosophy of Liverpool Football Club – the people who created the
Liverpool Way.” The room kept its name because it was, despite
its other uses, the place where boots were stored. There was a small, double-doored cupboard
at one end, which invariably contained a bottle of whisky. The hard liquor was saved for Saturdays,
specifically for post-match conversations. Opposition managers were often lured into
the Boot Room, unaware that Liverpool’s shrewd coaches were about to extract key tactical
information. They sat on overturned laundry baskets and
talked for hours, absorbing detail and discarding anything that wasn’t of use. “You’re
always interested in what people think about your own players,” said Paisley, quoted
in Ian Herbert’s book Quiet Genius. “They tell you more about your own players than
you really know yourself, or vice versa.” Liverpool’s coaches were careful not to
dispense too much information, ensuring that everything that took place in the Boot Room
served to take the club forward. “What went on was kept within those four walls,” Paisley
said. Fagan, who like Paisley would later become
Liverpool manager, began to keep his diaries and accounts of training in the Boot Room.
It became a place for he and his colleagues to study and to develop new approaches.
Economist Stefan Szymanski and business consultant Tim Kuypers wrote in their book Winners and
Losers: The Business Strategy of Football that Liverpool’s later success under Shankly,
Paisley and Fagan was a consequence of the structure and organisation put in place during
the 60s. At the heart of that was the Boot Room.
Shankly rarely attended meetings in the Boot Room, instead drawing on the expertise of
his coaches. He guided Liverpool to three First Division titles and a Uefa Cup victory
before his departure in 1974. But those who had been working in the background, in the
dimly lit room next to Shankly’s office, knew there was a need to evolve.
And that’s what happened under Paisley, who replaced Shankly and won three European
Cups, as well as a further six First Division titles during his nine years in the job. Fagan
added another European Cup during his two years as manager, and by the time the Boot
Room era had ended, Liverpool had won 29 major trophies.
Kenny Dalgish, who succeeded Fagan in 1985, was accused of phasing out the Boot Room,
but he disputed that. “It is utter rubbish that I dismantled the great Boot Room,”
he wrote in his autobiography. “It is an institution, one I would never have meddled
with.” By 1998, though, it was truly over. Ronnie
Moran had left and so too had Roy Evans. Liverpool headed into the 21st century, towards a new
era. At the height of its influence, the Boot Room
had once hosted Elton John, during his time as Watford chairman. The legendary singer
asked if he might have a glass of pink gin, but the only alcohol in sight was Guinness
and Whiskey. John later admitted that the Boot Room made
him nervous. There was an aura, a mystique about the place.
The room that proved such a key part of Liverpool’s success for decades doesn’t exist now. When
Graeme Souness became manager in 1991, he gave the go ahead to extend the media interview
room behind it. The dark, pokey cubby hole off the dressing-room corridor was no more.
But 20 years later, its legacy lives on at Anfield.