Sir Bobby Robson; R.I.P.

Sir Bobby Robson passed away this morning, July 31, 2009, after a prolonged struggle against the ravages of cancer. Obviously very few people get a bad press when they die but I have no scruples whatsoever in naming Robson as one of England's greatest ever managers and one of football's finest men. He should also be remembered as a pretty good footballer as well.

As a player Robson was an inside forward who was a clever enough schemer without being blessed with extraordinary talent. He was a busy player who generally kept things simple and looked to service the flair players around him. He was also a consistent goalscorer in his early career before settling down into a deeper midfield role in his later playing days.

Robson had two spells with Fulham either side of a six year stint with West Bromwich Albion and served both clubs with distinction. He was also capped twenty times by England and never let his country down.

Robson's playing career was impressive enough but it was to be as a manager that he would really make a lasting impression. The virtues he possessed as a player would help make him one of England's best managers at both club and international level.

He was honest, industrious, intelligent and was always ready to smile while recognising the serious nature of his job.

Perhaps most importantly he fully understood the value of skill and flair and had the knack of incorporating that vital element into his sides. Just as he had as a player he knew how to get the best out of his star individuals as a manager and his sides always played exciting, attacking football.

At Ipswich he built one of the most entertaining sides of the 70's and early 80's and was desperately unlucky not to win more silverware than the 1978 FA Cup and the 1981 UEFA Cup. In fact it is probably fair to say that for a couple of years in the early 1980's Ipswich surpassed the dominant Liverpool side and were generally considered to be the best team in the country.

After his tenure as England manager Robson enhanced his reputation with successful spells managing in Portugal, Spain and Holland during which time he managed some of the biggest clubs and players in the world, gaining admiration and respect wherever he went.

Returning home Robson enjoyed an emotional time in charge of Newcastle United, the club he had supported as a boy, and did as well as anybody could have reasonably expected before being sacked after leading the club to finishes of 4th, 3rd and 5th in the Premier League.

As a football fan I have always admired Robson's teams and his own style but my own personal memories of him, as an England fan, are not surprisingly deepest from his time in charge of the national team.

Robson took over as England manager after the 1982 World Cup finals and left after the 1990 competition eight years later. I think it is fair to say that during that time Robson suffered the most vitriolic, unpleasant and simply unfair abuse from the English press of any England manager. Graham Taylor might disagree with that but he did give his critics all the ammunition they could have wished for, Robson's record was actually pretty good.

Through all the insults and disparaging articles Robson remained wonderfully dignified and loyal to his players. He never sought scapegoats or excuses and remained tremendously positive, enthusiastic and supportive of the players he chose to represent England. Above all he continued to give everything he had to bring glory to England at times when he might easily have been tempted to just walk away.

The press had their knives out for Robson from the start and they were sharpened when Denmark knocked us out of the European Championships in 1983. Obviously this was a disappointing start to Robson's reign as England manager but the level of abuse was misguided as the journalists attacking him simply took it for granted that Denmark were not international class opposition. Subsequent events would show that the Danes were in fact a top quality international outfit and losing out to them was not the disgrace it had been painted in the press.

The European Championships provided Robson with another low point in 1988 when his team qualified for the finals but then lost all three group games in Germany.

The World Cup, however, supplied Robson, and the rest of England, with happier memories. In both 1986 and 1990 Robson saw his team recover from inauspicious beginnings to mount noteworthy campaigns and history will show that, in the final analysis, only a blatantly illegal goal and a penalty shootout stood between England and potential glory.

Through all the turbulence, the pressure and ultimately the heartbreak Robson remained a credit to himself and his country without becoming a mere bureaucrat.

Robson understood what was expected of him as manager of England and was able to keep a stiff upper lip and remain the gentleman under the most severe provocation. He was, however, too natural a man, and had too much passion for his job and his country, not to betray his real feelings at such times.

Being interviewed after watching England knocked out of the 1986 World Cup by Maradona's "Hand of God!" goal Robson, when asked about the goal, began by coldly relating the events as they had happened before concluding "And Maradona handled the ball into the goal, didn't he? Didn't he?"

The first time he asked the question "didn't he?" it was almost in the manner of a little boy waking from a nightmare and expecting to be told that none of it had actually happened and everything was going to be alright.

The second time he said it it was more a fierce declaration of fact than a question. It challenged anybody to look him in the face and contradict him. It said to Maradona and the rest of the world you can witter on talking bollocks about a hand of God but I know better.

It was a moment that seemed to give an insight into Robson's personality and character and certainly emphasised just how intensely human he really was and I loved him for it.

It was a simple statement but between the lines it seemed to say "You've cheated me but I'm English so I can still take defeat graciously but that won't stop me from speaking the truth."

I'm not going to apologize for this dribbling nationalism. I love being English and I love Bobby Robson. Losing that game to Argentina was one of the worst moments of my life but listening to Bobby afterwards reminded me that things could be worse. For instance I wouldn't have swapped victory and being Argentinean that day for losing and being English.

Four years later and Robson's stock was at an all time low despite the fact that he had led his side to the World Cup finals again. In fact the FA had already appointed Robson's successor as he took his side to Italy as they, and apparently everyone else, seemed to fully expect an embarrassing showing and early exit from the tournament.

Instead England embarked on a thrilling roller coaster ride to the semi finals where they took part in one of the World Cups' greatest ever games against the red hot favourites West Germany.

Not only was it wonderful to watch England playing with real style and adventure as that World Cup progressed it was magnificent to see Robson revelling in the moment as he and his side ridiculed the avalanche of criticism and abuse that had been hurled at them from all quarters.

I'll never forget his little dance of joy when David Platt whipped in that last minute volley against Belgium, looking truly dapper in his official England blazer, and every victory along the way was another two fingered salute to his critics.

Robson, of course, was too gentlemanly to openly respond to the criticism he had endured as his side did his talking for him but you knew full well that England's success in that tournament was of more than usual significance to a man whose dignified demeanour shielded a fierce determination and pride.

Ultimately five perfect German penalties and two botched English spot kicks decreed that there would be no fairytale ending for Robson as England manager and there was only the wry smile as he looked out into the Italian night sky and contemplated what might have been.

Despite defeat that night Robson was undoubtedly, and rightly so, a very proud man. Avowedly proud of his players but also, surely, proud of himself. He had every right to be so.

The 1990 World Cup went a long way towards ensuring Robson's reputation in football was secure and his subsequent work around Europe raised his standing even further. Off the pitch his natural charm and pure passion for the game has won admirers worldwide.

Today we mourn a great football manager, a great football man and, quite simply, a great man.