When I was nine he was the greatest. He still is
GOALKEEPERS wore green, or sometimes yellow. When I was 9 years old they did, or so I thought. But here was England’s number one, Gordon Banks, wearing blue.
They were playing Brazil. That Brazil. They were in yellow, of course, England in all white. It was the first game I remember seeing on TV. Dad bought a colour telly especially for World Cup 1970. The picture was blurry, but the colours were vivid.
The memory is sharp: Jairzinho sprints down the right wing, crosses to the far post, Pele climbs, boy does he climb. He heads perfectly, down towards the corner.
It has to be a goal, but no, Gordon Banks somehow, miraculously, gets a hand to the ball and claws it over the crossbar.
David Coleman’s commentary is almost as entrenched in the memory as the save. “Peleeee… What A Save… Gordon Banks… picked that out of the net.”
To this day it is still regarded by many as the greatest ever. To me, as a small boy it was, and remains so.
I was too young to remember England winning in 1966. Gordon Banks played a vital part in that triumph.
I believe if he hadn’t been struck down ill prior to the 1970 quarter-final with Germany, England may well have won again… although Brazil would’ve taken some beating.
Gordon Banks played a major role in my childhood. He not only featured in the first televised game I recall, he also played in the first professional game I went to: Leicester City against Manchester United.
I went home and played in goal. I was always the goalkeeper in the back garden, my brother – the attacker.
Strangely, goalkeepers became my idols. Banks left for Stoke, replaced by the quite brilliant Peter Shilton. He wore green, except for the 1969 FA Cup Final when he wore white. We lost. Perhaps he should have worn blue. Soon I realised I was too small to be a goalie. And if you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em.
There is no doubt that Banks is one of the greatest goalkeepers in the history of the sport. His handling, his reflexes, his temperament, his extraordinary ability and his leadership were self-evident.
He was so good that not even a car accident in which he lost one eye could stop him from standing between the sticks. Think about that for a second: he frequently did it on a cold, wet Tuesday night in Stoke... with one eye.
MODEST
That is the kind of determination it takes to be the very best.
Strangely he hardly won any medals domestically, just the League Cup with both Leicester and Stoke. But then he did win the World Cup. The World Cup.
He was also voted FIFA’s Goalkeeper Of The Year for six consecutive years. Six years running, yet, ludicrously, he was never knighted.
I was fortunate enough to meet Gordon on a number of occasions. It was always a delight to be in his presence. He was modest, kind, thoughtful and so helpful to this young aspiring footballer.
The last time we met was just over a year ago when he represented his country and pulled the balls from the pot at the World Cup draw. He was a little wobbly but his hands were steady and as safe as ever.
He could have been dressed in blue.