KENNY DALGLISH cannot escape Liverpool. Nineteen years after he fled the club following what seemed to be some kind of private meltdown, the indecipherable Scotsman has more or less been charged with saving the club from oblivion.
Nominally tasked with identifying a replacement for Rafa Benitez, whose departure will soon be hosed away in the deluge of World Cup anticipation and gossip, Dalglish is following a series of leads that will ultimately reintroduce him to himself. He will be like Mickey Rourke in Angel Heart, steadfastly eliminating names and chasing down clues until the bigger picture becomes clear: it was him all along.
As an institution, Liverpool football club is as sentimental as they come, perennially seeking a resumption of the indomitable years of the 1970s and 1980s. Even the fantastic comeback against Milan in Istanbul in 2005 was acknowledged by the players as a return to the ethos of those bygone eras.
Unlike most sports clubs, Liverpool aren’t trying to get to a higher place, they are trying to get back to a better place. In the last decade, the club have surrendered local control, they has fallen further behind their (notional) rivals Manchester United in prestige and titles accumulated, their plans to move to a new stadium are in jeopardy and they face a season defined by the humbling reality they are not even part of the Champions League cast for the autumn and winter ahead.
Already, there is speculation that Steven Gerrard might be an immediate target for Jose Mourinho. The Liverpudlian’s stock would rise inestimably if he delivers in the white of England at the World Cup and, aged 30 now, he may find the combination of the Special One and the equally special wage packet simply too good to turn down.
Gerrard will be too busy responding to Fabio Capello’s instructions for the next month to dwell on the domestic turmoil at Anfield but the identity of the next manager is certain to be crucial in deciding whether he continues to commit to the club.
The appeal of Dalglish is obvious. Fans and former players of his vintage can recall years when Liverpool matches seemed to be defined by Dalglish with his arms aloft, a big smile lighting the page boy fringe.
His skills were definitively Scottish – economical and crafty and devoid of frills. He just got things done. Dalglish won seven leagues and three European Cups as a player with the club and, as was “the Liverpool Way” accepted the role of manager. Three more league titles followed, with Dalglish not quite hanging up the boots, selecting himself judiciously for certain matches and on other days suiting up and sitting in the seat once occupied by Shankly and Paisley: it must have been easy, then, for everyone associated with the club to think the winning seasons would go on forever.
Dalglish was there for the horror of Heysel and his face was a picture of strained grief in the awful aftermath of Hillsborough.
Dalglish had been brought to Liverpool – much to the long-lasting antipathy of the Celtic population of Glasgow – by Bob Paisley for £440,000. His job description was not exactly easy: he was expected to replace Kevin Keegan, a Kop god who had bolted for Hamburg, in both shirt number and influence. Soon, he eclipsed Keegan.
So when Dalglish surveys the land for an experienced manager with sound judgment in players and an understanding of Liverpool as a football club and a reflection of what the city is, he is going to have to work extremely hard to keep his own name off the short list. When Liverpool old boys, many of those former team-mates, are publicly endorsing Dalglish, the pressure behind the scenes must be immense.
Dalglish’s sudden flight from Anfield in February of 1991 must have felt like more of an abdication than a resignation. His final game in charge was against Everton in a chaotically thrilling FA Cup fifth round replay. It finished 4-4 after extra-time, with Tony Cottee producing a late goal for Everton. Dalglish didn’t even stick around for the replay (Everton won 1-0), citing pressures of the game as he walked away.
It could be argued that in the years that followed Liverpool never quite recovered from that severance between the club and its demigod. Dalglish returned to football, reviving Blackburn Rovers and failing to right the wrongs at Newcastle United but none of those episodes deflected from his importance to Liverpool.
Football has changed immeasurably in the years since Dalglish was last in charge and if he found the rough-and-tumble glory of a local cup derby too much back in 1991, when he was still a young man, it is unlikely he would fancy the prevailing conditions of the Premier League.
He may well decide it is a job for a man such as Martin O’Neill (and the thought of the Derry man bunny-hopping the sideline at Anfield is fascinating). But it is becoming increasingly clear there are only a handful of managers out there deemed worthy of being able to function for big clubs. The same names are touted over and over. If Liverpool do not appoint someone who can revitalise their fortunes immediately, then their last few stellar players will evacuate and the club will join the ranks of also-rans.
In the years to come, Rafa Benitez’s seemingly symbolic recruitment of Dalglish as a club ambassador might be re-evaluated as one of his most crucial signings. Whether he likes it or not, the Scot is back in the thick of things.
The idea of Dalglish – King Kenny – coming back some two decades after he spirited himself out of Anfield – might be disastrous in practice but it contains the elements of melodrama and nostalgia which are important to Liverpool.
It would be a huge gamble but so much of what made the club has already been gambled away. Dalglish as manager would bring about what could be a last fling for the Liverpool boot room set. They just better hope they avoid any cup games against Everton.
