Brought up in Mount Vernon on the fringes of Liverpool city centre, Michael was raised on tales of Liverpool FC's former glories from his father, also called Michael. For the younger generation, tales of Liverpool's all-conquering past seemed like legends from a distant time, unlikely ever to return. His father told him of Keegan, Rush and Dalglish. The Reds of 2005 got by with Biscan, Traore and Mellor. Yet Rafael Benitez's misfits dragged themselves against all odds to the Champions League Final on 25 May 2005, and Michael Shields junior - along with countless teenage fans like him - was determined to be there in Istanbul. This was to be the Young Ones final.
On the morning after the semi-finals (just as happened this year) prices for all flights out to the final hit the roof. Faced with costs of £1,000 just to get to Turkey, many fans opted for cheap package trips to the coastal resorts of Bulgaria. A week in the Golden Sands resort on the Black Sea could be had for £230, and Shields decided to head there, with his friends Kieron Dunne, John Unsworth and Karl O'Donnell.
Arriving in the resort, the boys were given room 419 of the Crystal Hotel. Unbeknown to them, room 421, next door, had been allocated to members of another group of travelling fans, including Anthony Wilson and Bradley Thompson. Golden Sands is targeted at a cheap and cheerful British market, with arcades full of fast-food cafes and gaudy bars announcing happy hours that last all day. The boys quickly made themselves familiar with the local nightlife, and evenings would end with boisterous but good-humoured singing at the open-air Big Ben's Cafe, only a short walk from the hotel. Usually, the fans would be served by a popular local barman, Martin Georgiev, who was happy to mingle and take group photos for them.
At no stage did Shields's group befriend Thompson, Wilson or any of their gang - indeed, they steered clear of the group once Thompson and Wilson caused damage to the hotel that led to their being ejected and barred from the premises. Staff there spoke of the 'appalling arrogance' of the two, as well as their companion, a stocky young man called Graham Sankey.
But on the morning of the game there was nothing but high spirits as the majority of those staying in the hotel set off for Istanbul in a coach the hotel staff had helped them charter. Sankey, Wilson and Thompson, who considered themselves to be 'proper' Scousers, seemed keen to dissociate themselves from the football shirt-wearing contingent, and none of the three travelled on the coach. Getting to Istanbul necessitated a 12-hour journey each way, including a two- to three-hour wait at the border for clearance to enter and leave Turkey. But after the euphoria of their team's overturning a 3-0 deficit to go on and win the European Cup, nobody was too bothered about creature comforts on their return journey.
Shields was elated. Here he was, an 18-year-old kid with a story to rank with anything his dad had witnessed. When he got back to the hotel around tea-time on 26 May, he phoned his mother, Marie, and told her Istanbul had been the greatest occasion of his life. She told him she'd have his favourite supper on the go, ready for the sound of his key in the front door. Shields then went to bed to sleep off the fatigue of 24 hours spent in a cramped coach.
The group was due to fly home on 30 May, so plans were hatched for one last night of celebration in the resort. Shields and his group stayed out until about 2am and spent the last of their Bulgarian currency on drinks to bring back to the hotel. Word spread that they were throwing a party and Kevin Glynn, who did not know Shields prior to the Bulgaria trip, went along to join the fun. He states categorically that by 3am, Shields was flat out asleep on his bed, fully clothed and dead to the world.
'Michael was comatose, basically,' Glynn says. 'In fact, we all had a bit of a laugh about how loudly he was snoring.'
Meanwhile, back among the strip of open-air bars, the atmosphere was turning ugly. A big group of Liverpool supporters - mainly families and couples - had arranged a Red Shirt night to celebrate the cup win. A group of youths including Sankey, Wilson and Thompson got into an argument with the 'shirt-wearers'. A few punches were thrown before it all seemed to die down, but another argument flared up outside Big Ben's - the cafe where Martin Georgiev worked. There are different accounts of what happened next, but one witness states: 'I saw two young men running up the centre of the road in the direction of the bar, being chased by this gang of three or four lads. The two lads ran into Big Ben's. One of the lads who was chasing them threw a bottle which smashed in the centre of the road ... there was a fat lad in a white T-shirt with dark hair, and another lad in a striped T-shirt. I'd say they were no more than 5ft 6in to 5ft 7in tall. One of the two lads who had been chased came to the doorway and held his hands above his head and I heard him shout: "We don't want any trouble!"'
At this point, the witness says, he saw Martin Georgiev come out and tell the gang of lads to go away. 'One of the lads started bouncing around on the balls of his feet like a boxer and made his way towards Martin,' he says. 'I saw him strike a blow to Martin's face. Martin must have been immediately knocked out ... He did not move after he hit the floor and remained motionless, face down.' At this time, says the witness, the lad in the white T-shirt appeared from around a parked taxi. 'I then saw him hit Martin on the head with this piece of stone.'
The full eyewitness statement runs to 11 pages, but the essence of the evidence is that at around 5.30am on 30 May 2005, Martin Georgiev was punched to the ground outside his cafe by one man, after which a short, stocky man in a white T-shirt dropped a rock on his head.
Police quickly arrested Graham Sankey and Bradley Thompson. They then returned to room 421 of the Crystal Hotel to arrest Anthony Wilson, but found the room empty. They heard the din from the party next door and demanded entry. The arresting officers had gone to the hotel to apprehend a dark-haired man of some 5ft 6in. They woke Shields - over 6ft tall and blond haired - and demanded he put on a white T-shirt. They then drove him to Big Ben's and parked at the crime scene for 30 minutes, leaving Shields in open view of witnesses still being questioned about the attack. He was then driven to the local police station where he was handcuffed to a radiator for the next 16 hours. During that time, more witnesses to the crime came and went, getting a good look at the young Englishman chained to the wall.
George Gatev, a leading Bulgarian barrister, says this is not unusual procedure for police building a case in his country: 'Essentially, there should be no contact between the eyewitnesses and the suspect. But unfortunately it is common practice for the police here to leave the suspect somewhere where eyewitnesses will pass by and see them.'
Meanwhile, forensic evidence was taken from hairs found on the rock used in the attack on Georgiev. Amazingly, no attempt was made to link that forensic evidence to Shields, even though it would have been a simple enough process - even the most thorough clean-up leaves particles invisible to the naked eye.
The assault on Georgiev was vicious, but Shields did not do it. The case against him was built solely on witness identification and, sadly, that entire process was flawed. Shields was ordered to wear incriminating clothing; driven to the scene of the crime, where people still being interviewed could get a good look at him; handcuffed to a radiator in full view of incoming witnesses; and processed without recourse to forensic examination. There was worse to come. Asked to appear in an ID parade, he was shocked to find only three other 'suspects' in the line-up. He was the only one over 6ft tall. He was the only one with fair hair. And he was the only one dressed in a white T-shirt.
When I go to see Shields at HMP Hindley, near Wigan, at the beginning of May, I'm struck by the inherent sadness of the visiting routine. Skinny young mothers, newly spray-tanned, have donned their shortest skirts and had their hair done for their brief visit. Their men try not to display too much affection. Shields waits patiently at the furthest table, a celebrity by default. He's keeping himself to himself, taking the first steps to becoming a social worker when he's released. He has struck up a pen-friendship with a girl from London, and is going to invite her to visit. By bitter irony, the wall of the visiting room is decorated with an Istanbul mural. Shields smiles resignedly at this, as though he's never noticed. I ask him about the moment it dawned on him he might actually be convicted for the Georgiev attack.
About most aspects of his case he remains optimistic - he has to. But the Bulgarian ID parade still gives him nightmares: 'It was only then, really, that I started getting a sick feeling that something wasn't right. All the other three lads had dark hair and dark skin. It was like I was going to be guilty, no matter what.'
At the ID parade, witnesses were allowed to confer - yet they still couldn't agree on what role Shields had played in the attack, if any at all. He shakes his head as though, two years down the line, he still can't take it in that he's here, because of that. Then, the morning after the attack, police released Sankey without charge. His friends Thompson and Wilson were both charged in connection with the Georgiev assault, but accepted lesser charges. Thompson pleaded guilty to possession of cannabis, Wilson to affray. Both confirmed that they did not know Shields, and that he was not involved in the incident. Sankey flew home shortly after being released and is widely reported to have celebrated as the plane left Bulgaria.
Prosecutors applied for a detaining order on 1 June 2005, and on 27 June Shields was charged with the attempted murder of Martin Georgiev. The trial was scheduled to go to court in Varna on 26 July 2005. The news was greeted with disbelief at home in Liverpool. Shields's sister Laura said: 'We just knew straightaway that he couldn't have done it. Michael's a gentle giant. He's never even been in a police car, let alone a jail. He'll be scared.'
Shields is shy and quietly spoken, yet when he appeared in court in Bulgaria his jailors had shaved his hair in the image of the stereotypical English thug. The court allowed press and TV inside for the pre-trial hearing, plastering Shields's name and image all over the media before the trial began. He was found guilty of attempted murder and sentenced to 15 years in prison, and fined around £40,000. Clearly distraught as he was led away to face a future in a foreign jail for a crime he knew nothing about, Shields cried out: 'I didn't do it!'
'I couldn't believe it,' Shields says, at Hindley. 'Up until then I'd had faith that justice would be done. It never entered my head that what happened could happen. I was in shock.'
Peter Coles, former head of major crimes for Nottinghamshire police, shares his dismay: 'I was a policeman for 35 years and if any of my men had conducted a case like this they would have been sacked,' he says. 'The ID process was a farce; the non-collection of available evidence was a farce; the court proceedings were a farce.'
But back in Liverpool, dramatic events were unfolding. Two days after Shields's conviction, Sankey issued a confession through his lawyer, David Kirwan. In his statement, he describes being involved in a fight with a group of people in red shirts, a bottle being thrown, and hurling a brick in self-defence. According to his account the attack on Georgiev was accidental, the terrible consequence of a random action. In his confession, Sankey says: 'I accept that I must have caused the serious injury to Mr Georgiev. My conscience has been tormenting me ever since.'
Sankey's lawyer said: 'I have today faxed a signed confession from Graham Sankey to the Bulgarian courts ... No matter what the rights and wrongs of the case, this has been a traumatic decision for Graham to make ... Graham's life and that of his family can never return to what it was before that terrible night of 29 May. His only request is that they are left in peace to handle whatever repercussions may lie ahead.'
For 24 hours there was elation among the Shields family. Their son would be coming home at last. They planned a party for him, and started to put the trauma of the past two months behind them. But their joy was to be short-lived. The Bulgarian authorities made it clear they could only consider this new evidence from Sankey himself. Speaking on 6 August 2005, prosecutor Galia Slavova said: 'Unless he [Sankey] travels to Bulgaria or makes himself available via video link there is insufficient evidence for a new investigation.'
Sankey refused to be tried outside the UK, and the Bulgarians closed the case. Her hope extinguished, Marie Shields suffered a massive emotional breakdown.
Shields's case, championed by the Liverpool Echo, touched the people of Merseyside. His family doorstepped Jack Straw in his Blackburn constituency, but the then foreign secretary stressed how difficult it was for the government to interfere in the legal procedures of another nation. He expressed sympathy, emphasised Tony Blair's awareness of Shields's plight, but told them his hands were tied.
Back in Liverpool, Councillor Joe Anderson - an old-style Labour man not given to niceties - headed up an action committee to raise money and awareness. It was crucial that Shields's case was kept in the public eye. But it was equally critical for Michael Shields senior, a window cleaner, to start paying the £40,000 fine. With annual interest running at 15 per cent, time was against him.
Liverpool FC quickly came to the table. First Jamie Carragher, one of the Reds' centre backs, made a public appeal for Tony Blair to become personally involved in the case. At Liverpool's first home game of the 2005- 2006 season, a card mosaic was held up on the Kop simply saying FREE MICHAEL. A bucket collection at the home game against West Ham United raised £20,000, with both sets of fans contributing.
On the legal front, local MP Louise Ellman and MEP Arlene McCarthy were lobbying Bulgarian diplomats. The Bulgarian ambassador to the EU, Stanislav Daskalov, told McCarthy: 'I agree it might be wrong that a young man is in jail when there is a question mark over his guilt. But our legal system has found him guilty and we all have to accept that as the reality of this case.'
But while the sheer strain and expense of flying out to Bulgaria on a weekly basis was causing Michael senior health problems, there was a vague sense of optimism that the next appeal might, at least, allow his son to serve out his sentence in the UK. On 28 April 2006, at the court of appeal in Sofia, the judge cut Shields's sentence from 15 to 10 years and agreed he could serve out his sentence in the UK once his outstanding fine had been cleared. He then increased the fine to £71,000. Once interest had been taken into account, the Shields family would have to pay more than £90,000 before their son could be returned to the UK. Michael's father suffered a heart attack.
Fund-raising initiatives went into overdrive. Joe Anderson secured a new Peugeot car to raffle. A sell-out variety show at the Liverpool Empire raised several thousand pounds more. But the breakthrough in generating the funds came when Liverpool FC invited Michael's father to their training complex at Melwood to recount his son's story to the players. At no stage did Mr Shields ask the players for money, but he was touched to find that it was not just the home-grown trio of Steven Gerrard, Carragher and Robbie Fowler who were keenest to help. Xabi Alonso and Luis Garcia impressed Mr Shields with the extent to which they had followed his son's case. He left feeling confident the players would, at least, donate some signed shirts and balls to be raffled at the next fundraising night. Although the Shields family were asked never to disclose the full amount, it's widely believed the Liverpool squad donated around £50,000 to the fund. What is certain is that soon after the Melwood meeting, plans were being drawn up to bring Shields back to the UK before the end of the year.
Part of the problem now is that Shields's transfer from Bulgaria has been seen as a victory in itself. Much of the focus was trained on his isolation in Varna, and his parents' gruelling schedule of visits to Bulgaria. But his return to the UK merely represents one small step on the road to justice. Shields has been at HMP Hindley for more than six months now, as his campaign team forge a new appeal strategy. Euro MP Arlene McCarthy is due to meet her Bulgarian counterparts this month. She will urge them to re-open the case, bring Interpol into the process and consider the evidence of the eyewitness quoted in this article.
At one stage there was a suggestion that if Shields admitted to a lesser charge then his sentence could be cut drastically. But this was never an option to him. Throughout his two years of incarceration, Michael Shields has remained quietly determined to clear his name. 'I can't admit to something that I haven't done,' he says. 'I'd rather serve the sentence. It's as simple as that.'
Meanwhile, Marie Shields waits for the sound of her son's key in the front door once again.
· To support the campaign for government intervention into Michael Shields's case, go to: petitions.pm.gov.uk/MichaelCShields