England goalkeeping giant Ray Clemence dies.

 England goalkeeping giant Ray Clemence dies. 

This has not been a good year for ex- England goalkeepers. Firstly there was Gordon Banks, surely one of the most athletic, flexible, agile and acrobatic England goalkeepers of all time. None of us will ever forget Banks running around the old Wembley Stadium at the end of the 1966 World Cup Final along with some of his now sadly deceased colleagues such as Bobby Moore, Martin Peters, Ray Wilson and Nobby Stiles, milking the thunderous cheering from raucous England fans, grinning happily, absorbing the enormity of his country's achievements and holding aloft his World Cup winners medal. 

Then there was the 1970 World Cup in Mexico when the sweltering heat of a summer's afternoon brought out the very best in Banks astonishing reflexes. Today we still look back in sheer wonder at Banks remarkable save from the most beautifully accomplished player of all time- surely the greatest of them all. When Pele leapt up to meet Jairzinho's cross and headed downwards towards goal, Banks flung himself miraculously across goal and tipped the ball over the bar. To this day it is hard to believe how quickly Banks had moved to keep the ball out. It was truly the most outstanding save ever made by any keeper. 

But yesterday Ray Clemence, another in the rapidly dwindling English goalkeeping brigade, died at the age of 72 and the world of football lowered their heads, lamenting the loss of a gentle giant, a man of substance, manners, polish and quiet modesty. These are often the qualities displayed by footballers who have devoted much of their career to first Liverpool before travelling down to London and guarding the goal for Spurs. Clemence was never one to hog the limelight or attach himself to controversy. 

Most of us who follow the game already know about some of the more enchanting stories that Clemence left behind him. There was the summer job while with his first club Scunthorpe where he thought nothing of folding up deckchairs by the seaside if only to supplement his meagre income at Scunthorpe. But Ray Clemence was by the far the most professional of deckchair attendants since the tall and magisterial Clemence always knew you to had to work at your craft and when money was always a necessity. 

It wasn't long though before Bill Shankly, Liverpool's legendary manager, came calling and knocking at Clemence's door. Liverpool's goalkeeper during the 1960s Tommy Lawrence was beginning to wind down his career at Anfield and Shankly wanted somebody trustworthy to keep goal for the long term. Clemence was a gentle giant, a goalkeeper with presence, stature, a calming, emollient influence, a guardsman of a goalkeeper, an organiser of defences, pointing at the likes of Tommy Smith, Phil Neal, Phil Boersma, Chris Lawler and Brian Hall, shouting, chastising, barking out boisterous orders but always there. 

On  bright, crisp sun-dappled days at Anfield, Clemence was one of the most distinctive figures in Liverpool's serial trophy-winning years. Wearing a green jersey and gloves that fitted perfectly, he would then plonk his cap on his head and proceed in an orderly fashion. You can still see Clemence holding the ball in his hand and, from the goal kick, he would squint his eyes before fly kicking the ball high into the Merseyside air. Clemence and his cap were inseparable. 

Of course Clemence's CV was almost flawless, a glistening treasure chest of medals and trophies. There were the three European Cups including that celebrated night in Rome when his centre half colleague Tommy Smith jumped almost automatically to meet a Steve Heighway corner to head home Liverpool's first goal in Liverpool's first European Cup victory against Borussia Monchengladbach in 1977. The following year Clemence was once again at the prize-giving ceremony when Liverpool beat Bruges. The Clemence smile lit up his face like a torch in the dark. 

Then there was the England career. For much of his prosperous footballing career, Clemence stood toe to toe with Peter Shilton in a friendly rivalry for the highly valued goalkeeper's shirt. Both Shilton and Clemence were of course partial to blunders, embarrassing moments when they would join each other in mutual commiseration. There was the Home International match against Scotland when Clemence accidentally allowed the ball to squirm under his body from Kenny Dalglish for the softest of goals.

But Clemence was never flustered or ruffled by temporary setbacks or crushing defeats when he might have been tempted to look for a hole in the ground. He would though confess to his faults and foibles, weaknesses and peccadilloes, holding up his hand and acknowledging that even he was flawed in his own penalty area. 

For the big man who began at Scunthorpe, goalkeeping was always a refined art, a profession where the only the bold may tread. Clemence though was a pillar of reliability, a daunting barrier to all of those muscular forwards hungry for goals. Clemence was though more than a capable pair of hands, catching the ball cleanly and efficiently from dangerous, probing crosses that would test him to the full. There was something a father-like figure about him that was always protective of up and coming players. 

In later years of course the elasticity and pliability would lose its impact on important games for Liverpool. Clemence could still throw himself intrepidly across goal to palm the ball around the post or fingertip the ball amazingly over the bar when required to do so. It was Clemence's height and ever- present positional sense that would snuff out threatening attacks from the opposition with an effortlessness that defied belief.  

When Clemence left Liverpool the Kop fell into a deep slump. They were inconsolable and completely crestfallen. The adequate replacement was ready and waiting in the shape of Bruce Grobelaar, the ultimate showman, the most extrovert of humorists. But Clemence had gone and Spurs were there to snap him up at a bargain price. What an acquisition and what an investment. 

And yet after clinching five old First Division championships, three European Cups, two League Cups and, lest we forget, two FA Cup runners up medals, it must have felt as if there was little left to achieve in the game. But Clemence persevered and was called up by the England coaching set up where his immense knowledge of the game would be passed on willingly and unselfishly. Everybody felt they could be his lifelong friend.

In recent years Clemence's health horribly deteriorated and his appearances became increasingly less frequent. The square lantern jaw, chiselled and always clean-shaven, could no longer break into laughter and age withered him. The memories though would never fade and the love of his closely-knit family and friends was totally unconditional.

So here we at the end of what feels like the most disastrous years of our lives although some of us will always be grateful to Zoom. Ray Clemence has now joined Gordon Banks and Peter Bonetti in goalkeeping heaven and football fans everywhere will sniffle into their handkerchieves once again. This is just the latest episode in a hugely depressing news year. You can be sure that the great Clem will be up there with a heartfelt wink and that unmistakable twinkle in his eyes. We salute you sir.