Colin Bell dies. A Manchester City poster boy.

 Colin Bell dies. A Manchester City poster boy. 

The fedora hatted, cigar-smoking Malcolm Allison was always a shrewd judge of players. Footballers always did have a sensitive and emotional side to them even though some would rather be remembered for their harder, more abrasive and grittier moments. Nobody though could ever accuse Colin Bell, who yesterday died at the age of 74 of being anything other than a retiring and shy wallflower although he did cherish his privacy and the intimacy of a supportive family network. For Bell, his wife and children took immediate priority to any other consideration.

After the recent passing of Jack Charlton, Ray Clemence and Nobby Stiles football seems to have been drawn into a seemingly indefinite period of mourning and loss. But Colin Bell is the latest in a long line of very special and outstanding footballers who could do everything once they crossed the white line and out onto the pitch. Short of keeping goal for City, Bell was the very model of versatility, an energetic, box to box, indefatigable, hard-running player whose footballing engine never seemed to conk out.

Bell was shrewd, industrious, full of life, constantly demanding the ball, carrying the ball great distances without ever breaking sweat and an all-purpose, upright, clean living individual. He was immensely respected by his fellow professionals, never dropped out of any seedy nightclub and was always in bed by the end of News at Ten. Bell always did as he was told, a fiercely dedicated and disciplined player who did everything by the book, obeying his natural instincts and never out of control. 

Malcolm Allison once compared Bell to Nijinksy, the celebrated race-horse who was renowned for being tireless and victorious when the chips were down. And Allison was absolutely right. Bell, with the long, blond and flowing hair, was neat, graceful, gracious to all, never flinching a single tackle and more than prepared to get his hands dirty. His passing had a meticulous accuracy about it, a sense of proportion and balance, a heightened awareness of where his colleagues Francis Lee and Mike Summerbee would be to receive the ball in space.

Of course, Bell's career would be rewarded by trophies. That almost goes without saying. There was the 1969 FA Cup Final victory against Leicester City, the old First Division championship under Allison and Joe Mercer and the stylish European Cup Winners Cup trophy to add to his ever.increasing -collection. But Bell never hogged the headlines nor dominated the back pages for any unsavoury behaviour. He was the never the bothersome troublemaker, a member of the salacious, kiss and tell brigade, never one to step out of line with the authorities. 

Bell won 48 England caps in an age when he should have won so many more. He remained devoted to Manchester City after serving his apprenticeship at Bury. He flowed and fluttered across the muddy pitches of the 1970s like the proverbial swan, a man with educated feet and economical in his movements. There was never anything rushed or hurried about Bell, a controlled midfield player who studied the game from all angles, scurrying around when necessary but never resorting to the long ball into no man's land. 

By the end of a distinguished career at City, Bell had chalked up 501 appearances, a remarkable tribute to his stamina and endurance, a man for all seasons. He was never disappointing and his football always had a postive message without resorting to cheap publicity stunts. There was an authenticity and value about everything he gave to the game. 

When Bell reached the twilight of a career that had been blighted with injuries and severe setbacks that would clearly have finished off those who were less resilient than he was. He did bounce back over and over again determined to leave that enduring legacy that would always be cherished. Footballers love to recall the good, old days when everything was much simpler and the rewards they were hoping for were never really forthcoming.

When he did wind down after a fabulous and award-winning career at Manchester City, Bell did venture across the pond to America where the game was about to explode into a spectacle that was both colourful and glamorous. Suddenly Bell was surrounded by excitable girl cheerleaders with their pom poms, Pele, Johan Cruyff and the always elegant Bobby Moore. Now he would have to contend with the likes of the Tampa Bay Rowdies and the New York Cosmos. 

More recently Bell has become very much an ambassadorial figure at Manchester City still a highly esteemed icon who gave blood, sweat and tears to the club who gave him his chance in the big time. But, above all Bell was the very model of politeness, a gentle, humble and grounded character who never forgot his roots. Thankyou, Nijinsky you were always a seasoned thoroughbred and we'll never forget you. Colin Bell may you ring out over your city forevermore.