Nobby Stiles dies- and then there were four.

 Nobby Stiles- and then there were four. 

On the morning of the 1966 World Cup Final, Nobby Stiles took himself off to a local church and offered a silent prayer for an England victory against West Germany. The rest of Stiles England team mates were shopping for their wives and girlfriends while in an Upton Park barbershop my grandfather and his colleagues were bracing themselves for a jolly, good, old fashioned knees-up should England have won by then. 

Yesterday Nobby Stiles died at the age of 78 and then there were four. Slowly but surely the strong spine of England's World Cup-winning team from 54 years ago is gradually showing signs of wear and tear. In fact at some point the surgeons and doctors may have to administer a sharp dose of morphine because the pain and discomfort maybe too much to bear. Stiles had all manner of terminal diseases that eventually took its toll on a battered and bruised body that simply couldn't take any more. 

But with the passing of Stiles goes yet another precious link of that immortal class of 66, a period of our lives when everything and anything seemed possible, London was the centre of the universe, a pop band from Liverpool would revolutionise the music landscape for the entire decade and the latest fashions of the day would become the dominant topic of conversation on every media outlet. For Nobby Stiles though, it was the look and appearance that captured our imagination and made us smile warmly. 

When Stiles skipped and jigged his way around Wembley Stadium with that infectious, toothy grin, the nation fell helplessly in love with a Manchester United defender who, two years before England's World- Cup victory was instrumental in United's first European Cup Final victory against Benfica. Nobody could ever begrudge Stiles his moment of glory because Stiles was our hero, our man of the moment, a genuine character among a team of characters, lovable, adorable, delightful company and quite cheeky. 

On World Cup Final day Stiles was magnificent, immovable, unyielding, solid as a rock, tough as old boots, no-nonsense, an immensely steadying influence. In the history books he may be regarded as one of those underrated players who never really hogged the limelight because he was just glad to be part of the biggest occasion of any player's life. But when it came to the crunch, Stiles was the man they turned to for comfort when tensions were at their tautest. 

For Stiles epitomised everything that the day represented for all of us. He was brave as a lion, fearless, undaunted by the West German challenge, full of whole-hearted endeavour and industry. To all intents and purposes, Stiles was simply deployed as England's stopper, designed to spoil and block every West German attack with a stubbornness that eventually drove the opposition to distraction. 

But Stiles ran himself into the ground for the cause, covering all bases, snapping at the heels of persistent forwards, tackling, intercepting and cutting out the German advance parties with an assurance and meticulous attention to detail that was astonishing to behold. Stiles, though was always on hand to mop up the damage when England found themselves caught out for pace. His passing was accurate and he did what was needed on the day to frustrate the Germans. 

So when the final whistle went and England were declared World Champions for the first time, Stiles tried his utmost to re-capture his childhood, jumping up and down, scarf and bobble hat askew on his head, uninhibited and totally beside himself with joy. It was a moment of release, cathartic pleasure after all the uncertainty and anxiety before the game. Then he laughed and smiled again, abandoning himself to the moment, mission accomplished and ready for the party in Kensington later on in the evening. 

Stiles was one of those players who once they'd rolled their sleeves up and hollered out instructions to his colleagues, would be the one everybody would come to respect. He was conscientious, powerful, never afraid, always available, chasing and following forwards as if his life depended on it. Stiles positional sense was impeccable and he would always anticipate and pre-empt rather than rashly cleaning out his opponent. 

After the crowd noises had faded with the years and age intervened, there would be little to look forward to for Stiles. Of course he was devoted to Manchester United but the honours and trophies would dry up completely and a gilded World Champions medal would be a lasting and sentimental keepsake for a man who never really demanded a great deal out of the game. 

When the playing boots were hung up and discarded, Stiles tried his hand at management and it has to be said, this would never be his forte. Stiles was never a manager and when Preston North End came calling, Stiles did have a go. By his own admission Stiles was workmanlike but Preston, who had once given to the world Tom Finney would never blossom under the former World Cup winner. 

Your memory goes back to an old Second Division match during the 1970s when Preston came to West Ham and were soundly beaten 3-0. In the visitors dug out, Stiles could be seen waving furiously at his team-mates in the hope they could see him, a forlorn hope. But Nobby was unmistakable, a wound-up clock, animated, fuming with rage, pleading, exhorting, punching his fists at his players and boiling over with resentment. 

In recent years Stiles would have to confront dementia and handled the passing of the years with courage, humility and little fuss. He embraced the after-dinner circuit with as much passion as demonstrated when a player. We can only have given a penny for his private thoughts since today's generation of players may have come as a terrible shock to his system. Stiles was hard but fair, unforgiving in the tackle but one of the game's more hilarious humorists when a joke was appropriate and football was something to be enjoyed rather than endured. Nobby Stiles was always a force for good, a traditionalist perhaps as opposed to a dreamer. We can still hear and see you Nobby because you were one of us.