I was there when Jack and Bobby finally made up
He is my brother and skin is thicker than water NOW GIVE HIM A KNIGHTHOOD TOO
IT WAS a privilege to be there the night the two Charlton brothers were reunited after 12 years.
Now it is high time the pair were placed on a level as knights of the realm.
They won the World Cup together and both have been giants of the game.
But while young Sir Bobby has been the sport’s permanent ambassador to the establishment, plain old Jackie was the more tangible hero of the ordinary football fan, preferring to go fishing.
Indeed, for my generation, he was not really a servant to English soccer at all.
His application to manage the national team in 1977 – soon after he had won the manager of the year award with Middlesbrough after taking them from what would today be the Championship to within five points of the title – never got so much as a reply.
Yet there he was in 1994 taking the Republic of Ireland into the knockout stages for the secondWorld Cup in a row while England sat licking their wounds at home. As a player,
Don Revie had chosen Jack as the foundation on which to build his trophy-hungry Leeds and opposition strikers lived in fear of finding their way into his infamous “black book” for revenge.
Except there never was a black book. “I didn’t need one, it was all in there,” Jack would say as he pointed to his head.
Grudges can be poisonous things. A misunderstanding between both men’s families around the time that their irrepressible mum Cissie died in 1996 led to a long stand-off.
However, when the BBC honoured Bobby with their Sports Personality Lifetime Achievement award in 2008, the moment was made special by the fact it was Jack who presented it.
“He is my brother and skin is thicker than water,” Bobby said on the night. “I knew I was coming to get the award but I didn’t know who was going to present it until today. He is like all brothers – you can’t help it. I was so proud when we won the World Cup and there were two brothers in the team. I told him then our lives will never be the same.”
There were plenty of tears in the eyes of both coal miner’s sons and it was an honour to be one of the few journalists allowed behind the ropes to see up close how deeply two heroes of our game clearly cared about each other. In truth, Jack never stopped trying to live his life exactly the same. However, his passing on Friday aged 85 is time to recognise just how special it really was.
If the Pope once called him “the boss”, it is time for a grateful nation to call him “Sir”.
And there are a fair few in Ireland who will raise a glass of Guinness to his name when we finally do the right thing.
Slainte, Sir Jack.