Liverpool sold their best player — and somehow got better

Liverpool had sold their best player.

Six months later, he was back at Anfield — and Liverpool beat his new team 6–0.

Kevin Keegan had left in the summer of 1977 after helping Liverpool win the league and their first European Cup. Hamburg paid £500,000 for him. Liverpool replaced him with Kenny Dalglish.

It is rare enough to lose your best player and not decline.

Liverpool somehow got better.

That was the backdrop when Hamburg arrived at Anfield for the second leg of the European Super Cup. The first meeting in Germany had finished 1–1. Hamburg were the European Cup Winners’ Cup holders. Liverpool were European champions.

And Keegan was back.

There was always going to be attention on him. He had been one of Liverpool’s great players and was now lining up against the man brought in to replace him.

By the end, the Kop was chanting: “Keegan, Keegan, what’s the score?”

Liverpool won 6–0.

The chant was part of the occasion rather than any verdict on what Keegan had meant to Liverpool.

But the night ended up making a different point.

Liverpool hadn’t merely survived his departure.

In Dalglish, I would argue they had actually upgraded.

But watching the game back, it wasn’t Dalglish who stood out most.

It was Terry McDermott.

McDermott scored a hat-trick, but it was his movement that caught my attention. He was forever looking to get beyond Liverpool’s forwards and into goalscoring positions.

It reminded me of Frank Lampard.

I’m not saying they were the same player. I haven’t watched enough of McDermott to make that claim. But that particular instinct was familiar. Lampard scored so many goals because he understood when to make those runs from midfield. Watching McDermott against Hamburg, you could see the same desire to get beyond people and arrive where the chances were.

And he could score them in different ways.

One of his three was an absolute rocket from outside the box. No goalkeeper was getting near it.

The numbers suggest this night wasn’t an exception. McDermott scored 81 goals in 329 appearances for Liverpool. At his peak, he was putting up numbers that would be remarkable for a midfielder now.

In 1981–82, he scored 14 league goals in only 29 appearances.

McDermott isn’t forgotten by Liverpool supporters. Ask people who watched him and they’ll tell you how good he was. My dad certainly would.

But when that Liverpool era gets discussed, other names tend to come first. Souness. Dalglish. Hansen. Later, Barnes and Beardsley.

McDermott gets crowded out by an absurd collection of footballers.

Watching this game made me wonder whether he has become underrated because of it.

There was something else that stood out, though, and it probably explains why that Liverpool team was so good.

They were all different.

Steve Heighway was direct. He constantly wanted to beat his man and create something.

Ray Kennedy would drop into space in midfield and pick his passes.

David Fairclough wanted to play on the last man and get his goal.

Dalglish found pockets of space and linked everything together with the intelligence you expect from Dalglish.

And McDermott kept going beyond them.

Different players. Different strengths. They complemented each other.

Then add the other thing they shared: they worked their socks off.

There were no passengers.

That was probably the biggest thing I noticed watching the match. Liverpool were relentless.

At 2–0 they wanted another. At 3–0 they wanted another. At 4–0 they were still creating chances.

The strange thing about a 6–0 is that it could easily have been worse. Liverpool missed enough chances for it to have been eight or nine on another night.

Hamburg didn’t look much of a side at Anfield. They deserve that qualification. This wasn’t simply Liverpool brushing aside a great team playing at its best.

But Liverpool were brilliant.

And the scoreline wasn’t built around one player doing everything. Hamburg were being asked completely different questions depending on which red shirt had the ball.

That is what made the performance so impressive.

It also says plenty about Paisley.

He had inherited Liverpool from Bill Shankly in 1974. By the time he stepped down nine years later, he had won six league titles and three European Cups. Losing a player of Keegan’s quality could have been the moment Liverpool went backwards.

Instead, Paisley replaced him with Dalglish and Liverpool kept evolving.

The obvious story of 6 December 1977 is Kevin Keegan returning to Anfield and leaving on the wrong end of a 6–0.

Watching it nearly half a century later, that isn’t what stayed with me.

It was Terry McDermott constantly running beyond the forwards. Heighway taking his man on. Kennedy finding space. Fairclough looking in behind. Dalglish appearing wherever he could hurt you.

Different players. Different strengths.

All working.

No passengers.

That was Paisley’s Liverpool.