Fifty Years of Hurt by Henry Winter

Author:Henry Winter [Winter, Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473540996

13

The Knowledge

TO LOUD FANFARE in 2007, the FA erects a magnificent statue of Bobby Moore outside Wembley, puts up dramatic photographs of the late, great England captain inside the stadium and contributes funds and publicity to cancer campaigns run in Moore’s memory and name. Guilt stains such monumental munificence. Moore gives the FA its most iconic, historic and lucrative moment yet the governing body, at the time shot through with snobbery, snubs him during his lifetime. ‘Moore was treated appallingly,’ admits a senior figure at the FA. Fortunately and belatedly, the Blazers learn from their predecessors’ disgraceful behaviour. Moore is now properly celebrated at the headquarters of English football. The FA still needs to embrace quicker and more fully those who serve it well, creating a better environment for England. Members of the Golden Generation like David Beckham, Rio Ferdinand, Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard need to be offered substantial roles at the FA. They have the knowledge.

The Moore fiasco must not be repeated. His reading of the game, timing in the tackle and calm, accurate distribution made him an exceptional player yet he was also a special person. Those who say never meet your heroes – for fear of disappointment – never met Bobby Moore. Covering an England schoolboy international at the old Wembley in the late eighties, I walk into the press box, glance around and take in the presence of a few agency men and a radio crew sitting at the far end. It’s Capital Gold. With them is the golden one, Bobby Moore, well dressed, polite and modest, and radiating class. I introduce myself and, as he does with so many, the England legend immediately puts me at ease. Where many stars hold court, Moore converses, engages, listens. He’s even more impressive and heroic in person. His humanity shines through. Grace characterized Moore’s movement as a player and defined him as a man.

A couple of cherished minutes in Moore’s company left an inevitable question: why is a Wembley king residing in a largely deserted press box reporting on a kids’ game? From the moment he finished playing at Fulham in 1977, Moore should have been embedded in the England dressing-room by the FA, imparting wise counsel to those who aspired to his sporting heights. Moore had the knowledge, the appreciation of what it takes to end the years of hurt. He could have advised the FA on how he was inspired by the most daunting occasion, rather than feel constrained as so many of his successors do. Moore should have been directed to the dug-out by the FA and invited to coach the schoolboys, passing on the encouragement and instructions that worked so well back in 1966. Moore was so handsome, so humble, so appealing that a generation would have fallen further in love with football. He could have instilled durable principles, showing why sportsmanship should always conquer gamesmanship. He could have explained why his innate respect made him wipe his hands clean of dirt and

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