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History was made in 1964: it was the first time the reporter responsible for informing Guardian readers of a Liverpool title victory got a byline. Eric Todd celebrated by quoting Thomas Gray’s The Progress of Poesy, an ode in Pindaric form. They had secured the trophy with a 5-0 thrashing of Arsenal. Here’s a bit of Todd’s missive:
Having already exhausted most of the available superlatives on the team, Mr W Shankly, its manager, and the Kop, I can think of no more fitting a preface to my last dispatch from Anfield than a statement by Mr Shankly shortly after Liverpool had won promotion. “We are not merely going to be sitting on the First Division fence,” he said. They finished a useful eighth last term and, after a modest start, they dropped several broad hints that they intended winning something this season.
Yet Saturday’s proceedings were less satisfying than had been expected or hoped for. For one thing, there were fewer than 50,000 spectators – some of them had queued all night, and others for seven hours. For another, Liverpool made rather more mistakes than usual, and finally Arsenal did little to allay the general suspicion that they were there just to be sacrificed. The atmosphere was charged with tension and emotion, so that perhaps it would be unfair to be hypercritical. The indisputable fact remains, however, that Liverpool did what they set out to do. They are worthy champions, and Arsenal, who have enjoyed a good share of the game’s honours over the years, paid them generous tribute.
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