The “Babes” were a wonderful set of young men led by an exceptional Captain. They were different in that they were all big friends even away from the playing side of their lives. Roger met his future wife Joy when he enrolled on a physiotherapist’s course at Salford University. Joy was on the same course and their relationship blossomed as the course progressed.. He was the only United player at that time to own a car, not that he was a prolific driver! Shortly after he had obtained a permanent driving licence, Busby was at home in King’s Road, Chorlton cum Hardy one evening, when there was an almighty crash outside of his home. On going out to investigate, he was confronted by the sight of Roger in his car half way down his front lawn after having crashed through the garden wall!
Success came to the “Babes” in that 1955/56 season when they won the First Division Championship with the youngest team ever and by the largest difference in points from the team finishing second. I can recall racing across the Old Trafford pitch from the “Glover’s side” at the conclusion of the last home game of that season against Portsmouth on April 21st 1956, to see them presented with that wonderful old Championship Trophy. The crowd was huge in front of the old main stand and player’s tunnel as Roger led his young team up a makeshift stairway and podium to be handed the trophy by Joe Richards, the Football League Chairman. Those young boys mounted the platform at the top of the stairway and their smiles and exuberance told such a story. As Byrne brought the trophy and his team down the stairway, they were happy to talk to the fans, show their medals and allow fans to touch the trophy before they disappeared up that tunnel and into the sanctity of the dressing room. No laps of honour back in those days!
The following season, Roger led his “Babes” into Europe, and his performances were inspirational. He led from the front and on the field he could also be a “minder” to some of the younger players. I can recall a game against Aston Villa at Old Trafford in September of 1957, when the Villa left half, Stan Crowther (who was to join United later that season on the night of that first game after Munich against Sheffield Wednesday) was giving Billy Whelan a turgid time physically – in fact he was lucky to stay on the field. Byrne had a word with Crowther and got no real response. He bided his time and it came in the form of a long high ball dropping towards him as Crowther moved to close him down. Roger was quite deliberate in what he did and he met the ball full on the volley with his right foot. It went with the speed of a bullet and Crowther could not get out of the way as the ball hit him full in the face knocking him out. He was taken off the field with concussion and never returned to the game. Roger let no one take liberties.
He and Joy had married in early 1957 and had settled down in Flixton. Life was good apart from the away trips into Europe which kept them apart. United retained their title in 1956/57 and narrowly failed in their first European quest, as well as falling valiantly to Aston Villa in the F.A. Cup Final. Despite being on the end of the most violent premeditated act of violence that I have ever witnessed on a football pitch which left his team a man short for most of the game, the mark of Roger Byrne the man, was shown after the final whistle in the match had blown. Despite the bitter disappointment of losing at Wembley in the Final, and despite the nature that alluded to that loss, Byrne gathered his young team mates around him, and as Johnny Dixon, the Villa Captain, arrived at the top of the Royal Box, Byrne led his young charges in applause for the victors of the day as they received the famous old trophy. I could never envisage anything happening like that in this modern era. I will always recall a newspaper headline from the morning after that Final which said; “Villa Get The Cup But United Get The Glory” – never were truer words ever written.
The following season, 1957/58 was looked forward to so much. The word “treble” was now in the football vocabulary, and this was United’s aim that season. They started out brightly enough but had a mid season “blip” and going into February of 1958 they were second in the League table just 6 points behind Wolves, who were scheduled to play at Old Trafford on February 8th. After losing a League game to Chelsea on December 14th 1957 by 1-0, Busby decided to freshen up the team. He went out and bought Goalkeeper Hary Gregg from Doncaster Rovers for a British record transfer fee for a goalkeeper of 23,500 pounds. For the game against Leicester City on December 21st at Old Trafford, he left out Wood and introduced Gregg, and also left out Berry Whelan and Pegg, introducing Morgans, Charlton and Scanlon. The side that was then ever present for the next 11 games leading up to that fateful afternoon in Munich hit a rich vein of form. In those games in all competitions, they won 7 and drew 4, scoring 34 goals and conceding 16 in the process. They were back on track led by their inspirational Captain.
In Belgrade in the evening after the game against Red Star which had seen the team ease into the European Cup semi-finals, spirits were high at the reception that followed the game. Formal speeches were made and Byrne led the players in a rendition of Vera Lynne’s famous old wartime song of “We’ll Meet Again”. Sadly that was never to be. He again showed the other side of him as some of the younger players grew restless and impatient as midnight approached. They wanted to leave and visit a watering hole. Roger wrote a message on a napkin and passed it up to the top table where Busby was sat. The message on that napkin read “You promised the boys that they could leave once formalities were over. Permission to go?” A simple nod of the Manager’s head acquiesced to the request, and the young guns were away to enjoy themselves.
We all know the tragedy that was Munich and at what cost it came. Roger died instantly in the carnage of the disaster and Harry Gregg found him on the tarmac with not a mark upon him and with his eyes wide open. Even today, Harry sadly regrets not closing his eyes. Roger was just two days short of his 29th birthday. The biggest sadness was also that he was not to know that Joy, his wife was pregnant, and that he was never to see his son Roger junior. Roger’s body, together with those of his colleagues was flown home to Manchester and they rested initially in the gymnasium underneath the main stand at Old Trafford. The young policeman who had the duty of guarding the gymnasium door that night recalled that it was the longest and saddest night of his career. After a funeral service at Flixton Church, Roger was laid to rest.
United lost not only a great skipper that sad day, but also a man of great integrity, a born leader. He was certainly a man that exuded class and was full of charisma, whose sense of fair play and leadership, gained him the respect of not only his team mates, but everybody who came into contact with him. His tongue could be sharp at times, but those young kids accepted him and his discipline without question. He was simply their Captain.
Rest in peace Roger. I can still see you even today, leading those “Babes” out of the tunnel, tapping the ball up twice into your hands then kicking it up into the air towards the Scoreboard End goal. So many memories of a wonderful human being.
Roger played 277 games for United scoring 19 goals. He also made 33 consecutive appearances at international level for England.
