Cyrille Regis dies at 59- one of the great goal scoring forwards.

Cyrille Regis dies at 59 - a shining star and one of the great British centre forwards.

Back at the end of the 1970's  West Bromwich Albion paid a close season visit to China in a groundbreaking tour of the Far East. West Brom's humorous midfield player John Trewick joked that once you'd seen one wall you'd seen them all. He was in fact referring to the Great Wall of China but you knew where he was coming from. But one man transcended everything that football had to offer.

Today, Cyrille Regis died at 59 of a sudden heart attack and football had lost one of its most shining stars, one of the finest centre forwards of the 1970s and a player who broke all those seemingly formidable barriers of deplorable racism, vile intolerance and dreadful prejudice that had threatened to become a widespread epidemic in Britain. Regis exemplified the centre forward's stock in trade role and today the country paid its richly deserved tribute to a colossal talent.

On his club tour of China Regis was one among a whole team of trailblazers whose duty was to spread the word about the English game in a far off land or so it seemed at the time. Regis was one of the first black players to grace the shirt of an old First Division club and did so with a strength of character and pride that never deserted him. Sadly, centre forwards of the Regis type are more or less an endangered species but Regis still emerged with flying colours while fending off all the snarling critics.

Regis was a big- in the kindest sense of the word- broad shouldered, manly, muscular, beefy and a combative striker with the warmest of hearts. He was the archetypal centre forward of the time, a man who loved nothing better than a meaty confrontation with his defender, always fancying himself in a bruising challenge in the air.

By the end of the 1970s West Bromwich Albion had established themselves as one of the most progressive and appealing of teams. Their football was easy on the eye, aesthetically pleasing to watch and they seemed to be going in the right direction. Their manager Ron Atkinson had arrived at the club in a whirlwind of promises and guarantees, a man with a long term plan and a clear idea of what he wanted to achieve with the club. But then the wheels came off although for Regis this was just the beginning.

Atkinson was of course was the epitome of flamboyance and outrageous showmanship, never missing any opportunity to boast, brag and show off the latest line of clothing. Atkinson, although he would never admit to it, was allegedly brash, talkative, extremely sociable, maybe delusional but single minded in every sense of the word.

When Atkinson introduced Regis to West Brom's appreciative Hawthorns crowd there was, briefly, a period when if all the pieces fitted, West Brom would become one of the most exciting footballing teams in the old First Division. Atkinson though was faced with the most awkward of problems. He now had at his disposal a hard core of black players and at the end of the 1970s this was the most controversial of all social issues of the day.

In the early 1970s Ron Greenwood, West Ham's excellent manager, had bought Clyde Best, perhaps one of the first black players of modern times. Best was idolised by the Upton Park supporters reaching almost messianic status. But then some of us noticed a small, moronic element who were intent on making Best's life hell. There were the ghastly monkey chants, the endless banana skins and a general aversion to black footballers that almost completely spiralled out of control. We knew that it couldn't last and it didn't.

Ron Atkinson, in his infinite wisdom, decided to throw together a clutch of immensely talented black players whose skill and natural flair would illuminate many a gloomy afternoon at the Hawthorns. They were smooth, supple, sinewy and, importantly, athletic players with class written all over them and an easy adaptability that warmed the hearts of the Albion supporters.

There was Regis, pacy, powerful, fearless, aggressive and determined while around him there was his equally as prominent strike force. Regis must have thought all his birthdays had come all at once. Regis was now joined by Brendan Batson and the brightest talent of them all Laurie Cunningham, a quicksilver, fleet footed, twinkle toed winger who would dance and fox trot his way past helpless defenders.

Sadly Cunningham would tragically die in a car crash while returning from a training session at Real Madrid. But Cunningham would never be forgotten by a West Brom team who were winning so many admirers. Cunningham seemed to be turning wing play into its most classical art form, constantly beating his defender with explosive bursts on the flanks, running damagingly at his full backs and then tricking with the most devious of step overs and a quick wiggle of the hips.

At the heart of West Brom's successful side of that time, there was John Wile, a tall and authoritative centre half who locked up the centre of Albion defence with utter assurance. There was the aforesaid Brendan Batson, cool and composed, superbly unruffled by any crisis and the blond haired Derek Statham, an ambitious overlapping full back who loved to gallop forward whenever he could. West Brom were a well drilled and well organised team whose manager Ron Atkinson could also have claimed that once you'd seen one defensive wall, you'd seen them all.

In midfield Len Cantello had been a busy and businesslike West Brom player, always searching for the right ball to play in vital areas, always available at all times.  Then, Regis and co. were joined by the incomparable Johnny Giles  and Bryan Robson, two classy and cultured midfield players with educated feet and a wonderful passing range. Regis would benefit handsomely from the service provided by both Cantello and Hartford.

Above all, Regis was a consistently productive, a genuine goal scorer who would score goals by the wheelbarrow load, barging and jostling fairly for the ball, powering towards goal before releasing thunderous shots past helpless goalkeepers.

The mind goes back to one delightful afternoon at a muddy and wintry Old Trafford. That day West Brom simply crushed Manchester United in a blizzard of goals. West Brom's 5-3 victory that day will live long in the memory since that day both Regis and Laurie Cunningham tore United to shreds with the most devastating display of goal scoring Old Trafford had ever witnessed. For Regis goal scoring would become as natural as washing yourself in the morning or brushing your teeth.

Regis would also win a number of exceptionally well deserved England caps although he may well have been playing at the wrong time. England were at the time adequately served by goal -scoring icons such as Trevor Francis at the time. Francis was, rather like Regis was all hustle, bustle and muscle, scoring an abundance of goals for England. Still Regis was never a source of disappointment and was the most model of exemplary professionals.

Occasionally Regis would venture into the world of fashion and his photo shoot with the 1970s girl band The Three Degrees did wonders for Regis's street creed. Regis was unashamedly black, fashionable and always smiling. He scored goals for a living in a society that had to come to ridicule black footballers. We all knew that such appalling levels of racism and xenophobia could not be allowed to ruin the game. Regis, to his eternal credit, rose above it all and never stopped believing in his outstanding talent.

Today the world of football has lost an invaluable servant to the game, a man who successfully broke down the seemingly insurmountable obstacles, laughing at the boo boys, shrugging off the negative cynics and then presenting himself in the most favourable light. When Viv Anderson became the first black player to appear for England it seemed that football had achieved all of its objectives.

Cyrille Regis will be remembered most fondly by those West Brom supporters who came to worship him. Regis was a throwback to the old fashioned centre forward who thoroughly enjoyed a battle and never flinched from the merest hint of a tackle. His heading ability and lethal shooting prowess are now part of West Bromwich Albion folklore. Ron Atkinson may have had a poor opinion of walls but he certainly knew a footballing giant when he saw one.