yet another quiet week in worthing so i thought i'd ruminate. it occurs to me that some people, sad people, don't know who harry gregg is or why i assumed the frivolous diminutive for this blog. i'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone….i am not, nor have i ever been, a fan of manchester united but i was always a fan of harry gregg. he had the misfortune of playing for “them”.
i guess most people have reasons for buying their first television. my dad bought ours in 1958 to watch northern ireland play in the 1958 world cup. we didn’t even have hot water or an inside loo - he was good on priorities! but we huddled around the small black and white screen (such interference in those days, especially in the middle of the sperrins - we called it "snow") and could just about pick out the ball. i can still remember most of the team - danny blanchflower; captain of spurs and perhaps the most accomplished half back in the history of the game, jimmy mcIlroy; gifted inside forward [what they?] and a legend in burnley; peter mcparland; villa winger who scored 5 goals. how many wingers would score that many goals in one tournament today? would he even get a game? a young derek dougan – the doog! and many, many more. but why am i writing this now?
simple. the recent remembrance of the munich air disaster reminded me of my true, real-life hero - harry. i saw him talk (no, he blethered – it didn’t matter. it was always about what he did, not what he said) at the recent 50th anniversary and it confirmed my opinion "once a hero, always a hero". he could have been a fireman – he didn’t run away from that crash he ran back in dragging others clear. what a man. i can still see him, in my mind's eye [1958 again – keep track!] running out of his box, grabbing off his cloth cap, to head away a dangerous long ball. and through all that snow on my tiny screen! i know it happened, i saw it. i remember it – i’ll never forget it. why don’t they show it again? how many of today's keepers would be multi skilled enough to do that?
does anyone read my ramblings? if you do, let me know; who is your hero and why?
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1 comment:
I'm reading! Just very occasionally.
My hero's Ian Rush. Though not so much because of his footballing skills, but because he was called Iain (sort of) and played for Liverpool. I remember being very confused at the notion that he was playing for another team in Italy in the late 80's. I'd thought it was some sort of holiday until many years later. My first footballing memory of him was the 1989 FA Cup final (It's quite convenient I don't remember the 1988 FA Cup final) I remember missing the first ten minutes of the game for some reason- I think Mum dropped me at Greenland Walk so I could run back to get home quicker. Liverpool were 1-0 up, and John Aldridge had scored. I was gutted, because it meant Ian Rush wasn't as good as John Aldridge. Then they subbed Rushie on, he scored two, Liverpool won, and Stuart McCall won man of the match. I still can't understand how McCall got man of the match ahead of Ian Rush.
I also suspect he scored both goals in Liverpool's 2-2 draw with BHAFC at Anfield. My selective football watching patterns- only Liverpool, only when we were winning -meant I suspected Ian Rush of being the greatest footballer ever. Although I do remember having the words 'Johnny Byrne football genius' etched into my consciousness by Brighton fans, along with a memory of him scoring two goals and everyone going mad. So I probably thought he was almost as good.
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