Mike Summerbee by Mike Summerbee

Author:Mike Summerbee [Mike Summerbee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409061762
Publisher: Random House

11

THE THREE LIONS

The first hint that I was getting close to playing for England was when Sir Alf Ramsey sent me a Christmas card in December 1967. It came through the letterbox just two months before my proud debut against Scotland – and it's a curious memento to look at now. There's an extremely dull picture on the front of the 'Centenary Room at the Football Association Headquarters'; just a photo of some tables and chairs, with nobody in the room, and not a hint of festivity.

Why did he send it to me? I must have been in his thoughts then, I suppose, although I'd only won a single Under-23 cap against Turkey and I didn't think the match had gone very well.

Apart from that, the only other time I'd come across Sir Alf was when I'd been selected for an FA touring party that played a few matches at Expo '67 in Montreal. That trip was a riot, one long and often drunken party that didn't involve anything like serious football. Some of the 1966 World Cup-winners were there – Bobby Moore, Gordon Banks, Alan Ball and George Cohen among them. There were also up and coming players like me, and some old-timers near the end of their careers like the great John 'Budgie' Byrne. They all said it was the best trip ever.

Sir Alf had expected us to be staying in the same kind of top-class hotel that the England team was used to, but they put all the teams in the Loyola Jesuit College dormitories, and the facilities were basic to say the least. We couldn't have cared less because it was a holiday really. Sir Alf lined us all up and personally handed out spending money to us as if we were schoolboys. It was about twenty Canadian dollars a day. Then he said: 'I don't want to see you for seven days.' And he didn't. We got up to all sorts while the Russian team, who were one of the other sides in the tournament, had to train in the blistering heat every morning.

One time we trotted to a café round the corner while the Russians sweated, and I remember walking back past their practice with Budgie Byrne, who was a bit overweight at the time. We were wearing shorts, sandals and sunglasses, looking like the tourists we were. Suddenly a loose ball dropped out of the sky from the Russian training game and Budgie trapped it on his chest, rolled it round his neck and down his back, before flicking it up and volleying the thing back to the Russian players. They were gobsmacked.

After a week we had to start playing matches. Sir Alf had seen us boozing too much and he wasn't particularly happy. He nearly cancelled our participation as well because the pitch was so bad; it had been used for a fairground and a circus and was covered in manure and sand. Diplomacy for the FA meant we had to play, and diplomacy towards Sir Alf meant we had to win the tournament.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.