Dave Kirby's tribute to Gilly

The popular Kopite sadly lost his long battle with illness earlier this month.

Local author and playwright Dave read a eulogy at the service on behalf of the Liverpool FC family, while he has also penned the following in Gilly's honour...

Traffic lights - East Lancs Road/Kirkby junction 1973.

More than twenty lads were hanging around mostly in groups, mostly wearing Liverpool silk scarves around their necks and on their wrists and mostly dressed in Flemings Jeans and Oxblood Airwair boots.

Standing over six-feet tall amongst them wearing a black Harrington jacket and a silk Scarf that read: 'Scouse Power' was a lad who looked about 3 or 4 years older than me. He had jet black, blown back hair (like Elvis), a film star's smile and shoulders like an American footballer.

The group of lads around him constantly burst into laughter hanging onto every word he said as he charmed them with LFC tales in his own imitable comedic style. I was 14 at the time - it was my first ever hitch-hiking trip, my first ever visit to Manchester and my first ever glimpse of a lad that I wanted to be like and look like - the six foot cool handsome Scouser in the black Harrington Jacket who made everyone laugh.

"Who's that fella?" I asked my older brother, Mick. "That's Gilly", he said. I absorbed the words - even his name sounded cool. Within weeks I had a black Harrington jacket and a 'Scouse Power' silkie.

Throughout the 1970s, whenever I travelled away either by thumb, coach or football special train, the big man from Kirkby was always there. He'd been travelling away since the late 1960s and came through the infamous skinhead and bovver boy era where many of his hilarious stories evolved. Where others found danger, Gilly found humour.

There'd always be some comical reference to the dress sense or haircuts of away fans spotted on his travels. As I got to know him more I became one of his 'football special' audience. Whenever boarding a train at Lime Street I'd walk through each carriage till I heard the laughter then sure enough there was Gilly. Even journeys to hell places like Leeds, Boro and Spurs were turned into pleasure trips when he was around.

After one particular game at Derby, I remember being walked back to the station under police escort and on the opposite side of the road chaperoning us were a few hundred Derby boot boys whose leader was a fat lad wearing jeans held up with braces and a bowler hat in the style of 'A Clockwork Orange'. Gilly was right on it: "There's Oliver Hardy", he shouted then absolutely roasted him for over 2 miles in the voice of Stan Laurel, starting each verbal attack with the words: "Hey Ollie". Eventually the fat lad snapped and started shouting what he was going to do to Gilly...

Gilly simply started ruffling his hair with one hand then mimicked Stan Laurel crying: "He's gonna beat me officer." Even the coppers and some of the Derby mob were laughing. That was Gilly all over - laughing in the face of adversity.

As the years went on I got to know him really well. We were both from the same town but like most of the LFC family we mainly met at the match, so when Gilly became an economic migrant and headed south for work in the late 1970s, it never felt like he'd gone because despite working in Folkstone he never missed a match home or away so we'd bump into each other most weeks.   

It was only a matter of time till Gilly began spreading the red gospel down in Kent. He started organising coaches and match tickets in much the same way as the legendary late great Bobby Wilcox, who was a big mate of Gilly's. Almost thirty years on there are literally hundreds of Kent reds who are indebted to Gilly for their red inception.

In 2007 when I found out about his illness I wrote to the Liverpool Echo and put his name forward for the Liverpool FC 'Fan of the Year'. A month later Gilly phoned me to tell me that he'd won it. Wilcox was one of the first to shake his hand and tell him he was made up that a 'proper fan' had won. We attended the presentation together at Liverpool's Crowne Plaza where he accepted the honour with great pride and emotion. It's a moment that I now treasure.

The name Stephen Gill is right up there with legendary fanatical reds such as Lenny Woods, Gerry Blaney and the aforementioned late great Bobby Wilcox. Fans like Gilly are the heartbeat of LFC - to me they're as important and as special as our great players and managers and their passing should be acknowledged and respected equally.

There are fans that support the club fervently and there are fanatical fans who dedicate their entire lives to the club going above and beyond the call of duty. Stephen Gill was certainly from that mould.

Over the past thirty-eight years I consider myself privileged to have known not only a great red and great Scouser but also a warm, genial, benevolent man. He was 'Old School'...a great ambassador for the city with his humorous stories which would charm people from near and far. Even recently when he'd finally accepted his fate he quoted: "At least I seen five European Cup wins. It could've been worse...I could've been a Man Utd fan." That was Gilly in a nutshell - laughing in the face of adversity once again.

His final request was to have his ashes placed on the Anfield turf.

Every time I sing, 'You'll Never Walk Alone', every time I'm at Anfield, every time I board a train at Lime Street...and every time I pass those old traffic lights at the Kirkby/East Lancs junction, I know that I'll always think about a six-foot handsome scouser wearing a Black Harrington jacket who made people laugh.

Stephen Gill
1955-2011 

Stephen's funeral took place on Wednesday morning in  Tynemouth, Newcastle. His ashes will later be placed at Anfield.