Tommy Smith- a Liverpool legend.

Tommy Smith- a Liverpool legend.

On a warm and sultry evening in Rome 42 years ago Tommy Smith achieved legendary status, immortality and the ultimate recognition from  Liverpool fans who had always worshipped him. Football supporters love to fit their Saturday heroes into neat categories rather like rock musicians who would prefer to be remembered for their big stadium performances rather than the more smaller and more intimate arenas where the acoustics are entirely different.

For Tommy Smith though , who yesterday sadly died at the age of  74, the impression is that Smith could never forgotten because he was both visible and audible. When Tommy Smith made his debut for Liverpool it must have felt as though a bulldozer had arrived at Anfield. You would have thought that a cautionary warning had been announced on Merseyside. Move away now because Smith is about to be introduced to an expectant Anfield crowd and a wrecking ball was about to demolish everything in its sight.

To say that Tommy Smith was as hard as a rock would be the grossest understatement. British football had already come to hold its hard men, its hatchet men, in the highest esteem. The likes of Leeds United's Norman Hunter and Billy Bremner along with Spurs Dave Mackay had already established themselves in football supporters good books. But Smith was famous for being infamous, notorious for his brutal tackling, fierce will to win and steely eyed remorselessness.

Smith undoubtedly took no prisoners, a powerful central half, rugged, immovable, indestructible and determined to make the opposition forwards tremble with fear. Throughout the 1970s Smith often reminded you of one of those no nonsense nightclub bouncers who would fix you with a murderous stare, disregard you completely and just tell you in no uncertain terms that you were forbidden to go in and never darken their corridors ever again.

Tommy Smith was a frighteningly imposing centre half who, although starting his career as a midfield player at Liverpool, was dropped back into a much deeper defensive role because Liverpool boss Bill Shankly felt that Smith's presence at the back would be of far greater benefit to Liverpool. So it was that this fiery, abrasive and mercilessly uncompromising defender would assert himself in most of those great Liverpool sides, breathing the fire of the proverbial dragon and just stopping any forward  who came anywhere near him.

And so we return to that celebrated night in Rome when Liverpool became only the third British team to win the European Cup in 1977. A Steve Heighway corner was swung dangerously into a static  Borussia Monchengladbach penalty area and Smith rose commandingly with a posse of players, heading the ball into the German's net with absolute certainty and force.

 Liverpool would go on to beat Monchengladbach because Berti Vogts couldn't cope with the speed of Kevin Keegan and the subsequent penalty, when Keegan was brought down in the area, was somehow a fitting climax to the game. For Tommy Smith it would be a night when sheer bloody mindedness would scare the living daylights out of the Germans. Smith was steadfast, mean, moody and menacing, glaring at his adversaries as if they'd committed a vicious crime and then rolling up his sleeves for another ferocious confrontation.

Smith was never one for revenge or retribution but he did like to stamp an almost sinister authority on any game that Liverpool were involved in. The feeling was that none would cross paths with him because the after match consequences would have been, shall we say, rather unsavoury. Most of the great 1970s playmakers must have known what to expect when Smith was prowling, snarling, sneering and threatening. It was the moment Smith's opponents had to  keep a very respectful and tactful silence.

Smith, who won four old First Division League championships, two FA Cups, one European Cup and two UEFA Cups was quite naturally prone to lengthy spells out with injury. Then again he was  nonetheless incredibly fearless and full of red blooded virility at the back. When the boots were flying in penalty areas Smith neither flinched nor fussed, forever wagging aggressive fingers at players who he felt had unforgivably crossed the disciplinary line.

When Liverpool beat Newcastle United quite comprehensively 3-0 in the 1974 FA Cup Final Smith must have felt like a privileged guest at some very posh gathering of aristocrats. That afternoon Smith floated around the old Wembley pitch rather like some gleaming cruise liner and when he lifted the Cup later on that afternoon there would be no room for argument as to who had made it all possible for Liverpool.

Regrettably though Smith was on the losing side for Liverpool. Several days before their scintillating European Cup victory against Monchengladbach in 1977, Liverpool would be meekly overcome by Manchester United in the FA Cup Final. Under the wise cracking  Tommy Docherty United were hellbent on denying Liverpool the Double of League and Cup. Smith, although devastated and distraught by defeat to United, came out fighting from his corner and the European Cup probably felt much more satisfying anyway.

In his later years Smith's career would wind down and after a brief spell at Swansea, Smith would retire with most of his bones either broken or then repaired with stitches or bandages that would never properly heal. The last year of Smith's life would be painful and perhaps too hard to bear at times. When dementia set in with a vengeance Smith would take his final step out of the limelight. But none who ever watched Smith could ever fail to express their fully deserving compliments for a man who always took the rough with the smooth. The hard as nails defender who hated losing has earned his place in the Liverpool Hall of Fame. Few would ever begrudge him the honour.