The last time I spoke to Gerard Houllier, his memory was as sharp as ever.
I started a sentence by saying something like, “You took charge of Liverpool in 11 derbies…”
Houllier was onto me. “I think you will find it was 12…”
I laughed, and he sort of did, but you could tell the record mattered to him. Even though he was a joint-manager with Roy Evans in the forgotten 12th game and it was a 0-0 draw, Houllier cared about details.
The Barmby part of the conversation lasted for twenty minutes or so and I was ready to go but he wanted to carry on, asking about Liverpool. He loved Liverpool, the club. He loved Liverpool, the city. His appetite for knowledge was still there.
When I found out he’d passed away, I thought back to the last time we met. He had been a formidable manager for Liverpool, helping the club re-establish itself as a European giant. In that process, he had intercepted fatalism and made supporters dream of the impossible again. Yet he was also ultimately a thoroughly nice man, helpful and generous with his time.
Three years since the death of the former Liverpool manager, read Simon Hughes' feature on the Frenchman below
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