Jack will always have
HAVING recently written a series of articles to mark the thirtieth anniversary of Ireland’s heroics at the 1990 World Cup, little did I think that I’d be revisiting that very subject so soon, to pay tribute to the man behind the success – the late, great Jack Charlton.
All those glorious memories of Euro 88, Italia 90 and USA 94 came flooding back again, an unforgettable period for Irish soccer brought about by the unlikely marriage of an English World Cup winner and a Republic of Ireland football team that had been long-since blighted by near misses when tournament football looked like it could be within reach.
The bould Jack was there on the sideline for some of Ireland’s greatest sporting days – Ray Houghton hitting the back of the English net in Stuttgart, Bonner saving from Timofte in Genoa before David O’Leary’s penalty sent us to a World Cup quarter-final, Houghton again versus Italy in 1994 – precious moments in time that will be forever engraved in Irish minds.
With numerous humorous and heartfelt stories about Big Jack doing the rounds in recent days, from falling asleep in the Vatican to his rather modest description of his own playing abilities, the one thing that shines through more than anything else is the genuine affection his players had for him.
Paul McGrath, who was a mainstay in Charlton’s sides during the glory years, paid an emotional tribute to the man that placed such faith in him, describing him as a father figure, while John Aldridge’s voice quivered with emotion as he professed his real love for somebody that touched all of our lives in one way or another.
When Aldridge said that he felt like he had lost a member of his family, anybody that lived through those years would have nodded their heads in agreement.
Jack was one of us, a beloved father, grandad, a friend.
With his familiar peaked cap and down-to-earth personality, he was somebody we could all relate to. And there’s no doubt that connection was recipro