They Were My Heroes

TomClare

1958 to 2008, a period of 50 years. To some, it may seem like an eternity. However, on Wednesday, 6 February 2008, when I and thousands of Mancunians from my era closed our eyes in those silent moments of reflection and remembrance, that 50 year period was recalled in just a fraction of a second. A kaleidoscope of memories flooded back. It was a bitter-sweet, but moving experience.

To be in Manchester and to follow Manchester United in the 1950s was a wonderful experience. Matt Busby had arrived when there was no ground for his team to play on, when training facilities were non-existent, when money for the transfer market was less than adequate, and the players in the team which he had inherited had lost six years of their careers to a little matter called the Second World War. Undaunted, he met the challenge head on, and as the years passed he built a club that became a family unit.

Busby embraced everybody into that family: players at every level within the club: staff; groundstaff; scouts; tea ladies; laundry ladies; and even the fans. He made people belong. Remembering his first tentative steps as a young professional player arriving in Manchester in the late 1920s to play for Manchester City, he was to tell that wonderful writer, Arthur Hopcraft (in The Football Man – People and passions in Soccer):

“To begin with I wanted a more humane approach than there was when I was playing. The younger lads were just left on their own. The first team players hardly recognised the lads underneath. There never seemed to be enough interest taken in them. The manager sat at his desk and you probably saw him once a week. From the very start, I wanted even the smallest member think he was a part of the club.”

That he succeeded is beyond dispute.

The club in the 1950s was vibrant with youth. It was such a wonderful place to be around. Everybody was so approachable. The Babes captured the hearts of fans wherever they played. They were stars, yes, and they knew it. But their feet were firmly planted on the ground.

The period between September 1950 and February 1958 gave me so much pleasure, as I grew up alongside this young team, watching them develop and mature. I shared their highs and lows – I laughed when they won, and was heartbroken whenever they lost a game. It seemed as though my happiness would go on forever – but that wasn’t to be.

I can still recall with great clarity that late Thursday afternoon in Manchester when the news began filtering through that there had been an accident at Munich. That memory never leaves me. The news that there had been fatalities made me experience, for the very first time in my life, that awful, gut-wrenching, churning feeling of loss. It was incomprehensible that I would never again see the young men who had become my idols. The sense of shock and loss is just so hard to describe. It has stayed with me throughout my life, and I would imagine it is the same for all my contemporaries. Even now, as I enter my old age, I still get so emotional about those dear young people. I have suffered loss and also tragedy in my lifetime, and I have been able to cope with it. However, the loss that was suffered at Munich is still there, and it never goes. That gut-wrenching, devastating feeling whenever I think back to that sad day will never, ever, go away.

At my home in Houston, Texas, I have a video about the lives and careers of the Busby Babes. There are often times, now that I am in the twilight of my life, and especially when I am on my own, when I’ll sit down and watch it in quiet reflection. It takes me back to those heady days of such carefree happiness. There are some wonderful moments in that tape which bring the memories flooding back; wonderful memories of a tremendous group of young people, who had time for everybody. Players who caught the bus on home match days and who would happily join in the banter with the fans who were going to watch them; players who gave up their time and their energy so willingly to the community; players who always remembered where they had come from; players who never became detached from who they were; players who just loved the game of football and who would have played every day if they could. No moans about tiredness or fatigue or the number of games that they had to play – they just wanted to get out there and perform.

The last part of the video relates entirely to the accident, and both Bill Foulkes and Harry Gregg relate their memories. It’s when I see this that my own hurt really begins, and it all floods back.

As I have often stated, I can never forget the pall of mourning that affected Manchester on that afternoon and evening, and which carried on into the next few weeks. Seeing the curtains of people’s houses closed for a week or more as a mark of respect. They even had pictures of the team put up inside those windows. Men and women were weeping, and showing their grief so openly in public. I’ll never forget the exact moment when I heard that big Duncan had passed away or the hurt and sadness that hit me so hard again.

Sadly, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone. The effect that it had on fans of all ages was plain to see for weeks, months, and even years afterwards. On some of the days, I played truant from school and would walk to Old Trafford, and just hang around the stadium all day. In my young head it made me feel closer to them. I still half expected to see some of them coming out of the players’ entrance after their training had been done. I still expected to see their smiling faces and hear them tease each other again. Often I would stand outside that entrance, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I recalled times when I had spoken to them, laughed with them, and had my hair ruffled by them. I often stood by the drain pipe by the old ticket office, and remembered the many times that I had watched the big fella tie his bicycle to that pipe with the piece of string he always had in his pocket. It hurt so much knowing I would never see him again, and I’m not ashamed to say that I wept openly. Whenever I think of him today, that still happens.

They were just so different. I would stand and think of Eddie’s cheeky chappy smile – that big black duffle coat that he always seemed to wear. I’d recall the gentleness of Mark Jones, and also of Billy Whelan, who I always had difficulty in understanding when he spoke. The trio that was Tommy Taylor, David Pegg, and Bobby Charlton. All three of them so happy, full of smiles and inseparable. Little Johnny Berry, Dennis Viollet, Bill Foulkes, Roger Byrne, Jackie Blanchflower and Ray Wood - the married lads who always seemed to want to get away quickly and get back home. The enormity of the loss was just so hard to take in, and even today it still is.

Other days I would meander along to Salford, and into Weaste Cemetery where Eddie had been laid to rest. At first his resting place was just a mound of earth with floral tributes upon it, and I would stand there for an hour or more willing him to be with me, smiling and joking. I was never the only one person there, as many other people would be visiting as well. The black headstone inscribed with gold lettering appeared some six weeks after the disaster and that brought home to me the permanency of Eddie’s passing. Everything seemed so unfair and so hard to take. How could they have gone just like that? How could they have left us with no goodbyes? It was, and always has been, one long and continuous heartache.

Whenever I return to the heart of my memories I remember the Babes with so much affection. They were my first love, and always will be. Michael Parkinson asked Sir Matt Busby the question, “If they had survived, what do you think they would have achieved?” I watched the great man as he paused to give his answer. His face betrayed the feelings that welled up inside him, and there was the hint of a small tear in his eyes. Emotionally, he responded, “I think that if they had entered it, they’d have even won the Boat Race.”

I agree with that statement because believe me they would have taken some stopping.

At the end of my video about the Babes, Harry Gregg comes out with some wonderful words about the young players with whom he played for so short a time:

“They say that they were the best team that we have ever seen. Well, maybe.

They say that they may have gone on to be the best team that we have ever seen. Well – again, maybe.

However, there is one thing that is for certain – they were certainly the best loved team that there has ever been.”

Such a powerful statement, and that love came from the humility of those dear boys, their sportsmanship, the way they lived their lives, and the respect they gave to their opponents whilst never fearing them. Although the hurt is there whenever I think of them, I do think of a group of young men who always had smiles upon their faces. They were such a happy bunch, and such fun to be around. They never considered themselves anything special, and as Wilf McGuinness once said, “We were just a great bunch of pals who happened to play football.”

I miss them just as much today as I did when I first became aware of the horror of what had happened on that sad, fateful day. Whenever I return to Old Trafford, before a match I close my eyes, and I can still see them. It is so easy for me to see Roger Byrne leading them out from the old tunnel, taking two taps of the ball up into his hands and then ballooning it up towards the Scoreboard End goal. I see Big Dunc emerging from that same tunnel, taking two giant leaps as he strides onto the pitch, heading an imaginary ball. I see the big smile of Tommy Taylor as he fires in balls at the goal, and the triangle of little Eddie, Mark Jones and the big fella moving the ball around in front of the Popular Stand. Those memories will never leave me.

Today I will pay my respects to a wonderful group of people who gave me, and thousands just like me, so much happiness and pleasure, and who lost their lives pursuing not only their dreams, but also our dreams as well.

Sleep on in peace dear boys. Your memory and legend will never die, and you will always live on as the definitive heartbeat of our great club.

Pablo76

Thanks Tom, just thanks.

RIP babes, the flowers of Manchester, always remembered, never forgotten.

HsJ

Wonderful post Tom, as usual. It's great to hear some of your stories

Bread

Great read again Mr Clare!

Great to hear directly how it all felt as i cant even imagine it.

Tribec

Beautiful Tom, that is a stunning post, possibly the best you've ever written. Thank you for sharing with us.

kikks

Wow. That brings a tear to my eye, Tom. Lovely read.

Count Duckula

Wonderful stuff as always, Tom.

ecantona7

Great Read

Pscholes18

askabob

That brought a tear to my eye Tom. The Babes were long before my time but your recollections make me feel as if I was part of the family that watched them grow up. I am left speechless.

GDH

Brilliant post. Just brilliant.

Stobzilla

It seems a little corny to put it like this.

But anyone who is lucky enough to be following this club from now until the grave has the memory of these young men etched into them, they know what they represent, all they ever were and the cruelty of us never knowing exactly how good they could of been.

They aren't just your heroes Tom, they are every United fans heroes, these young men will forever bond us.

I've loved reading your posts over the last few days, great work Tom.

Pscholes18

I was about to ask you Tom about Eddie Coleman. He has always intrigued me. Not sure why. But I just found your article you wrote on him. Excellent read. Thank you.

Great Hat

Brilliant post Tom, both for the memories and the way you convey them.

I think you're roughly the same age as my Dad, and that post reminds me of a lot of stories I've heard from him about watching the Babes as a young lad. They were an incredible bunch of footballers with so much potential and there are no words for how tragic the crash was. Nice to hear another (and very eloquent) memoir about the Babes.

Northstand

That's a great, great post.

I was born just a couple of years after the Munich disaster, and your post takes me back to being a young kid and hearing my dad's recollections of that dreadful event.

phelans shorts

its always great to read your recollections on the babes, very eloquent in how you convey the stories as well, gives a real sense of how feelings were at the time.

Legend16

I cant help but cry a little when I read that. part of me for the memory of those lads and the love I have for my club. but also for the beautiful and touching way in which its written. Thanks so much Tom.

MST3K

fantastic stuff tom, thanks for that.

Boothy

Great Read Tom, as always, thanks

Brophs

Great stuff, Tom.

WireRed

Superb post again Tom. You really give younger people, who weren't around during those years(like myself), a great insight into how things were back then and how happy the Busby Babes made supporters feel.

Ta very much, mate.

Adzzz

R.I.P to the busby babes and thank you for the exceptional post (again) Tom.

thebelfastboy

Brilliant post, one of the best I've read on the caf...

John

Lester Freamon

Thank you very much, Tom.

I'll take this opportunity to recommend a book I read a while ago: Manchester's Finest: How the Munich Air Disaster Broke the Heart of a Great City by David Hall. Especially for younger fans.

Lailiani

Great, great read, Tom, and so moving.

R.I.P Busby Babes - Gone but never forgotten

pigface

Thank you Tom, wonderful post.

w'or bobby

Thank you, Tom.
Your posts are always wonderful - full of poignancy and the clarity that your love for United and the Babes brings.
This post is perhaps your best ever.
I was only a young child when they died but I remember my father telling me about the crash.
I came to United in '63 but the memory of the Babes is central to this club and all that has followed since.
You invariably bring me back to the team my old fella supported.
I am happy that I and my son still follow with the same passion and love.
Thank you again.

Anderson Searl

Every single supporter of this club should read that.

You are a true representation of a UNITED supporter, pat yourself on the back and take pride my friend.

KM

Thank you Tom for this brilliant post.

R.I.P Busby Babes

McLovin

Likewise.

Gone but never forgotten.

green demon

As always Tom very beautifully written and poignant. I was under a month old when it happened so obviously have no memories myself but I always wish, when I read these tributes, to have been a little older to have had at least the chance to have seen them at least once.

One of my mates at school was also called Duncan Edwards (Duncan being his middle name, but his choice to use as he was a fellow United fan). And with a third one, the three of us used to speculate that Duncan Edwards might still be playing for United, as Bobby Charlton was doing still, had the crash not occurred. Such was the impact, that a player we had not seen was still a hero and a legend. There was still such a sense of loss those 10 years later for all the boys.

Tom, it is said to be better to have loved and lost than to have loved at all. With all the sadness and sense of loss that understandably returns at the anniversaries, you can at least say that you had the privelege to see those young men play and to have got close to them. Thank you for sharing your memories with us.

scream

Wonderful post Tom, thank you!

My dad often tells me stories of watching the Babes and especially of 'Big Dunc'.
It always brings a tear to my eye when I think of what could have been.

R.I.P. Busby Babes

topper

Great read Tom - thanks

I cried when, as a schoolboy, I heard the news of the crash on the radio and now over 50 years later there are still tears in my eyes as I remember them .

God bless you all and rest in peace

Tribec

What could have been, but never was, only made the love for the Babes stronger. May you all rest in peace.

REDMULLERS

Privilege to have you on the Cafe Tom.

My love for Utd is reflected in your words.

esmufc12

Wonderful read Tom, thank you.

redfan

Once again Tom you hit exactly the right spot. When the news broke I was at work in trafford park, my foreman Vic Crowe a giant of a man and like us all a staunch red sat at his desk crying, for me a rumour had just become reality.

Tumbling-Dice

There would have been no five European Cups in a row for Real Madrid if these lads had survived. Roger Byrne, Tommy Taylor, David Pegg, Eddie Colman, Mark Jones, Duncan Edwards, Liam Whelan and Geoff Bent. RIP.

Red Indian Chief Torn Rubber

Thanks Tom.

Tumbling-Dice

Perfectly observed minute's silence today.