April - Old Mutual Two Oceans Marathon

[Sweder]

Shocking news this morning that the youngest member of the 1966 England squad, Alan Ball, has died. He suffered a heart attack aged 61, three years after his wife passed away. His son, wracked with sobs speaking on Radio Solent, remarked that he had been 'devastated' by that loss and hoped they were now re-united.

Stories flood in of Ball the man and Ball the player, a tigerish, all-action bustler who snapped at the ankles of his opponents and drove his team-mates mad with his incessant dressing room banter. He was known for his running commentaries during games - a fitting subject for this forum then - when he would describe how he was going to turn a player inside out even as he did so. He revelled in the England-Scotland rivalry, never happier than when he'd vanquished the oldest enemy. Jack Charlton, voice shaking with emotion, called him 'my best friend in football' and 'the hammer of the Scots', a title that earns huge respect in my book.

Ball was an iconic figure in that '66 squad, a redheaded midfield dynamo.
That description has lead to comparisons with Paul Scholes, drawing the yawningly predictable response from a number of correspondents that Scholes 'isn't fit to lace Ball's boots.' Comparisons between eras are spurious at best - think Best v Giggs, for example - but Scholes is/ was as important a player for his club and country as any in the modern game. As far as role models go he stands out as a shining beacon in a sport riddled with prima donnas, cheats and poseurs - and, yes, I do know that he can't tackle. The ability to make a hard but fair challenge is not the only difference between them. Whilst Scholes is the Quiet Man AB was certainly not. According to Alan Mullery Ball bunked down with Jeff Astle whilst on England duty. Astle, no slouch in the chattering department himself, was 'driven to distraction' by the irrepressible effervescence of his room-mate. For Mullery it was Ball, not Hurst, who did most to deliver the Jules Rimet trophy that famous day at Wembley.

Rest in peace 'Bouncy'.
You were a marvellous character, a very good footballer and, by all accounts, a real gentleman.
The tributes flowing in from supporters and players of all denominations are testament to a player whose stature in the game belied your diminutive physical size.

As the City faithful sang when you took your place in the dugout;
And after all . . .
You're my Alan Ball