Memories of a man who was the last true gent of the game

Michael Hart
31 Jul 2009

Sir Bobby Robson was one of the most popular figures in the history of English football.

He certainly was the best loved of the elite few who experienced the onerous burden of managing England, earning a degree of public affection that largely eluded the 1966 World Cup winner Sir Alf Ramsey.

His enthusiasm for the game was infectious and years after his reign as England manager ended with that epic World Cup semi-final defeat to Germany in 1990, his players would still recall their favourite Robson moments with regularity and warmth.

Many, like Gary Lineker and Terry Butcher, supported him staunchly against ridicule and derision in the early years of his time as England manager and others, notably Paul Gasgcoigne, came to rely upon his sound advice and fatherly demeanour.

A 55-year career embraced generations of players. From his time as an England player in the Fifties, with stars like Billy Wright, Tom Finney and Bobby Charlton, to the greats of the modern game like Shearer, Romario, Ronaldo (below) and Figo - who all benefited from his tutelage.

Those who played for him have nothing but fond memories of a man who loved life and football and wore his heart on his sleeve.

His passion for football was all-consuming. Any football, any time, anywhere.

I remember a cold, wet afternoon at Bisham Abbey about 25 years ago when he made one of several guest appearances for the England media team.

Deep into his 50s, he trundled gamely from box to box and still took defeat as a personal affront, even at that kick-about level.

Four nil down at the interval, he turned to the heaving hacks and insisted: "We can still turn this round lads... can't we Don?"

Don Howe provided Robson with much support, tactical and emotional, during their eight years together with the England team.

Playing colleagues with West Brom and England, they shared values, ideas and jokes and together took the national team to within a penalty kick of the World Cup Final.

I always felt that it was Robson's energy and charisma, rather than his mastery of tactics, that formed the pillar of his management career, though his success abroad in Holland, Portugal and Spain suggests that, with language a problem, he was still able to pit his wits against the best foreign coaches.

His enthusiasm for the game and all its various challenges had no boundaries because, on leaving school at 15, the first tools of his trade were the miner's lamp, helmet and hobnail boots.

He knew where he came from. It had been tough down the pit and he never forgot it.

Born in the village of Sacriston, County Durham in February 1933, Robson was probably the last of the great 'coal mining' managers of British football.

The pit villages of the North East and Scotland provided a rich seam of managerial talent stretching back to Bob Paisley, Jock Stein and Matt Busby.

Sir Bobby's father, Phillip, spent most of his working life underground and he raised his five children to respect traditional family values and the puritan work ethic.

No wonder then that much later in life Robson would tell me: "I'd like to see more restraint and dignity in the modern game.

"We've lost sight of things like that. Players are role models and could give a lead to the rest of society."

As the elder statesman of the national game, his opinions were much sought after.

They reflected not only his enduring love for football but also his genuine concern at the many challenges facing the modern game.

He feared, for instance, that the influx of foreign managers would inevitably dilute the status of English coaching and he strongly believed that players' salaries needed capping.

"Money has changed the attitude and behaviour of players," he said. "We need to pause for a bit because there's a lot in the game we need to think about."

Robson played for Fulham, West Bromwich Albion and England (20 caps) before the abolition of the maximum wage.

He had no car in those days and, with his wife Elsie, borrowed £2,000 to buy their first house. Two afternoons a week he travelled to Oxford to coach the university team for four guineas (£4.20) a session.

Those were his first steps on the road to management and he later recalled: "The inadequacies of the boys at Oxford gave me my own private coaching laboratory."

By the time Robson returned to Fulham from West Brom in 1962 the maximum wage had been outlawed and his Craven Cottage team-mate Johnny Haynes had become football's first £100-a-week player.

Robson himself doubled his salary by moving back to Fulham.

He played a further five seasons as an industrious midfielder before retiring in 1967 but it remained a cause of irritation that he didn't win a single major trophy as a player.

He then uprooted his young family and spent an unhappy few months as player manager of Vancouver Royals in Canada before Fulham rescued him from the dole queue and invited him to become manager in January 1968.

His first taste of big-time management was short - and bitter. He was just 10 months into the job when he learned of his fate from an Evening Standard billboard headline: "Robson sacked!"

Three months later it was John Cobbold, the eccentric Old Etonian chairman of Ipswich, who this time rescued him from the indignity of the Labour Exchange.

Robson was to spend 13 years at Portman Road - build three great teams, win the UEFA Cup, the FA Cup, twice finish runners-up in the old First Division and establish himself high in the hierarchy of English coaching.

Robson had turned down Leeds, Manchester United, Barcelona and Bilbao when the FA asked him to succeed Ron Greenwood as England manager in 1982.

Ipswich offered him a 10-year extension to his contract but he knew that he would always have regrets if he turned down the chance to follow Ramsey, another former Ipswich boss, and manage England.

Despite the critics - Ramsey among them - he loved his eight years in charge of England.

He lost just 18 of his 95 games and, long after it was over, was still haunted by those two quirks of World Cup fate Maradona's outrageous 'hand of God' goal in Mexico in 1986 and the penalty shoot-out exit in Italy four years later.

The emotional semi-final defeat to the Germans in Turin, where Gascoigne famously burst into tears and Pearce and Waddle missed in the penalty shoot-out, was the culmination of a roller-coaster eight years that included the Wembley defeat against Denmark, a disastrous European Championship in Germany in 1988 and, more profoundly, the Heysel and Hillsborough disasters.

Before the start of the 1990 tournament the Football Association privately informed Robson that they would not be renewing his contract.

Not surprisingly, the England manager lined up a new job - with PSV - to start after the World Cup.

But when the news leaked he was called a traitor. This hurt Robson and created a difficult atmosphere in his relationship with the media at the time.

Robson had every right to look after his future. Few realised that he had taken a big pay cut when he left Ipswich to become England manager.

His initial FA salary was £65,000 a year - a paltry sum alongside the wages paid these days to the likes of Sven-Goran Eriksson or Fabio Capello.

At the age of 57, Robson viewed his post-England years as the time to secure his retirement.

He won the Dutch title in his first two years at PSV and then, with the full support of Elsie, continued his tour of Europe.

In the next six years he managed Sporting Lisbon, Porto, where he twice won the title, and Barcelona, winning the Cup Winners' Cup.

Throughout this period a young Portuguese interpreter called Jose Mourinho worked alongside him, learning the tricks of the trade.

Leaving Mourinho to plot his own career, Robson returned to PSV but the chance of going back to England proved irresistible.

Having turned down Arsenal before they appointed Arsene Wenger, he saw a return to his native North East with Newcastle United as the last great challenge of a long and illustrious career.

When Robson took over in September 1999, Newcastle were bottom of the Premiership and his predecessor Ruud Gullit had just consigned himself to history by demoting Shearer to the substitutes' bench.

Robson immediately reinstated the England striker and set about rebuilding the team.

In five eventful seasons he finished in the top five three times and re-introduced Champions League football to St James' Park. But it wasn't enough.

When the sack came in September 2004 Robson was 71 and hurt by the suggestion that Graeme Souness had been hired to restore discipline in the dressing room.

He received 800 letters of support, including one from Prime Minister Tony Blair.

By this time, sadly, cancer was already gnawing at his health. First diagnosed with a malignant melanoma in his face in 1995, he fought a protracted illness with such fortitude and humour that he became an inspiration to other sufferers.

Even in his darkest moments he was animated and excited when talking about the two great loves of his life - football and his family.

He leaves a wife, Elsie, and three sons and many fond memories for people like me and others whose lives he touched.