COCKER HOOP: THE BIOGRAPHY OF LES COCKER, KEY MAN FOR RAMSEY AND REVIE by Robert Endeacott and Dave Cocker

Cocker Hoop is the authorised biography of football coaching great Les Cocker. A tenacious and resilient forward, Cocker played for two clubs: Stockport County (196 games, 48 goals) and Accrington Stanley (130 games, 50 goals) before retiring in 1958 to move into coaching.

As one of the first recipients of full coaching badges at England’s Lilleshall, he established himself as a supreme trainer and coach for Leeds United and helped build a famous footballing dynasty alongside Don Revie. His rising reputation attracted the FA’s attention, and Cocker helped the England team achieve their pinnacle success in 1966.

Filled with interviews, anecdotes and revelations from throughout Cocker’s career, Cocker Hoop brings us a personal portrait of the great man and is co-written by his son Dave Cocker and sportswriter and novelist Robert Endeacott.

 

(Publisher: Pitch Publishing Ltd. July 2022. Hardcover: 256 pages)

Book Review: Red Card Roy: Sex, booze and early baths – the life of Britain’s wildest-ever footballer by Roy McDonough with Bernie Friend

If ever there was a book which delivered based on its title, then this is it. As the Ronseal advert of the 1990’s famously proclaimed, “it does what it says on the tin.”

This rumbustious roller-caster of a story is without doubt a page turner and details the career of Roy McDonough who was good enough to score in the top-flight for Birmingham City, but then found himself careering around the lower professional ranks with clubs including Cambridge United, Colchester United, Exeter City, Southend United and Walsall.

One of the overriding observations as a reader and which McDonough discusses in the Epilogue, is how different his career could have been, with a number of key incidents shaping the eventual path of his years in the game.

At sixteen and on the books of Aston Villa, McDonough received a six month ban from the game after assaulting the referee, effectively ending his association with the Villa Park club. However, he was taken on by Birmingham City and after signing professionally made a couple of appearances at the end of the 1976/77 season, scoring in the final day of the campaign at QPR. His expected progression into a first-team regular in the following season never materialised and frustrated by the lack of opportunities moves onto Walsall, just as the striking pair at Birmingham are injured which would have seen McDonough back playing in the First Division.

The growing resentment and frustration at having missed out on playing in the top-flight and an unhappy season at Chelsea after leaving Walsall, saw McDonough increasingly seek comfort in ‘booze and birds’ and characterised his playing career as he had spells with Southend United (twice), Colchester United (twice), Exeter City and Cambridge United. Despite the excesses of his social life, McDonough comes across as a player who gave nothing less than 100% when crossing the white line, gaining cult status at Roots Hall and Layer Road and indeed had success earning promotions with Walsall and Southend United as a player and promotion and an FA Trophy win at Wembley with Colchester United as player-manager.

McDonough was undoubtedly a centre-forward and occasional centre-half in the old style of somebody who put themselves about and his physical approach to the game led to his record number of 22 red cards. As on the pitch, this book pulls no punches and reputations of some of the biggest names in football are scattered to the winds. For example, in his career McDonough was managed by Sir Alf Ramsey (at Birmingham City), Sir Geoff Hurst (at Chelsea) and Bobby Moore (at Southend United), yet it is only the England skipper Moore who emerges with any real respect.

This is a book written in the language of the dressing room so if you are looking for a read that is PC then this particular story isn’t for you. Ultimately, it is a tale of a player and a game from a different era and is about as far away from the sanitised product that is the Premier League as you can get.

 

 

 

 

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Book Review: True Storey (My Life and Crimes as a Football Hatchet Man)

Growing up in the seventies, my football education came from my dad’s allegiance to The Arsenal and through me discovering my own team, Fulham. The game was a very different beast then. Football on the television consisted of highlights on a Saturday night with ‘Match of the Day’ and Sunday afternoons with ‘The Big Match’. Live football? Well that was one game a season, when the FA Cup Final was shown. Teams wore simple kits in traditional colours without a hint of advertising and played on pitches that varied between sand strewn mud-heaps and bare, rock hard surfaces. It was a time when football was a much more physical game and every First Division team had their ‘hard-man’. Chelsea had Ron Harris, there was Tommy Smith at Liverpool and Norman Hunter at Leeds United, whilst Arsenal had Peter Storey. So in reading “True Storey: My Life and Crimes as a Football Hatchet Man” I knew the footballing background against which the story is set.

One immediate impression about the book is that the 224 pages (Mainstream Publishing 2011 Edition) consist of 23 chapters and an introduction. This for me meant that whilst reading, the book moved on at quite a pace as each chapter was relatively short, precise and punchy, making it a quick read. Overall the style is conversational with some humour, but is essentially forthright, blunt and to the point.

The Introduction provides Storey’s raison d’être for the book in that he wanted to “…explain the ‘madness’ (the seedy side of life after football) for the first time…”. The book is his chance to put straight the “…many lies and half-truths peddled as ‘fact’ relating to the crime which blighted (his) life…” Following the Introduction, Storey’s life is told from growing up in 1950’s Britain in Aldershot, to present day life in South-West France.

The reader is eased into Peter Storey’s tale with his early playing days and his progress through the representative sides of Aldershot & Farnborough Schools FA, London Schools and England Schoolboys, with his passion and desire to be a professional evident. Having left school at the age of 15, he then signed for Arsenal in 1961, “…the best club in the football world…” However, at that time North London rivals Tottenham were the Kings of English football having just become the first club in the Twentieth Century to do the Double.

Peter settled into the youth team playing in the South East Counties League playing alongside Peter Simpson and Jon Sammels, who like Storey went on to establish themselves in the first team. By the 1962/63 season, he progressed to the A team (third team) playing in the Metropolitan League and had signed a professional contract. Storey’s frustrations at not progressing as quickly into the first team is evident, but in the 1964/65 season he travelled as first reserve for an FA Cup 4th Round fixture at Peterborough United and was now playing in the Reserves. Off the pitch, life too was changing for him as he shared houses with Jon Sammels and Terry Neil, where trips to the laundrette and a lack of food provide some amusing tales about the bachelor lives of the young Gunners players.

The 1965/66 season saw Peter Storey make his first team debut for the Gunners on 30th October 1965 at Filbert Street against Leicester City. Arsenal lost 3-1 and Storey made his mark, when he “…coldly barged Sinclair into touch with the ball long departed…” – Peter Storey had arrived. Billy Wright the Wolves and England legend was manager at the time and Storey offers an insight into a club not happy under Wright’s leadership. It was a wretched season for the Gunners and with six games to go they were in serious relegation trouble. However, they did survive, but it had an effect on the Highbury faithful. So much so that the lowest attendance for a competitive game at Highbury was recorded that season, when on 5th May 1966, just 4,554 turned up to watch the Division One fixture against Leeds United. Inevitably at the end of the season Wright was sacked.

Given this background, perhaps it was understandable Storey observed that at Arsenal, “…concern for the club and interest in the new manager took precedence over the World Cup…” as the 1966/67 dawned. Although, he did reflect that he noticed, “…teams in the First Division getting a lot more organised, much more professional…” Bertie Mee was appointed Manager along with Dave Sexton as First Team Coach, an appointment Storey saw as vital since Mee “…didn’t have a clue about tactics…” Sexton moved on in October 1967 to manage Chelsea and in came Don Howe to begin a historic period and partnership for the Gunners.

In 1968 and 1969 the Gunners made it to Wembley to the League Cup Final. Despite losing both, 1-0 against Leeds United in 1968 and 3-1 against Swindon Town in 1969, the good times at Highbury were about to bloom. In 1969/70 Arsenal took part in the Fairs Cup (now Europa League) and overcame Anderlecht 4-3 over two-legs in the Final. Even better was to come the following season. Given the historic nature of Arsenal doing the Double, Storey does devote two chapters to the achievements of that memorable season for the Gunners. However, it wasn’t all glory, glory as Storey saw it.

On the Official Arsenal Website, there is a feature on the ‘50 Greatest Arsenal Players’. Peter Storey completes the list at Number 50, a testament to his contribution to the club and regard by the fans. The site outlined his contribution to the Gunners history with the following:

If Peter Storey hadn’t held his nerve, Arsenal would not have made history in 1971. It’s as simple as that. Storey was a vital – if unsung – member of Bertie Mee’s Double squad and his crucial contribution came in March of that year as Arsenal stared defeat in the face at their FA Cup Semi-Final against Stoke City at Hillsborough. Storey had already halved a two-goal deficit with a rasping second-half drive but Stoke looked set to seal a 2-1 victory, and book their place at Wembley, before Arsenal were awarded a stoppage-time penalty for a handball on the goal line. The yellow-shirted Gunners leapt with joy – but not Storey. He had the unenviable task of beating England legend Gordon Banks from 12 yards to keep Arsenal’s Double dream alive. Storey saw Banks go right and slotted the ball low to the keeper’s left, cool as you like. Arsenal went on to win the replay, lift the Cup and complete the Double.

Storey recalls the highs of those events in Chapter Twelve, (“I’ll always have Sheffield”), but Stoke also had unhappy memories later that season when Storey was injured in the fixture against the Potters at Highbury. It meant he missed the title decider at Tottenham and he admits he felt something of an outsider as the team celebrated the title win and observed that he, “…knew a little of the emotional pain and bitter disappointment Jimmy Greaves experienced when he was injured during the World Cup and watched as his replacement Geoff Hurst became a national hero…”. Still carrying the injury, missing the Cup Final looked inevitable and Storey recalls an intriguing episode in which he believes Bertie Mee tried to ensure he missed the game. Peter Storey having declared himself fit was then put through his paces by the manager which Storey saw as an “…unbelievably gruelling fitness test…” However, Storey came through the test, but on the day in the Final against Liverpool he lasted about an hour before limping off.

Success at club level brought Peter Storey international recognition and his first cap came in 1971 in a 3-0 win at Wembley against Greece. Sir Alf Ramsey recognised the versatility of the Arsenal man and in winning 19 caps he played at both right and left back and in midfield for his country. Not bad for somebody who many thought was just an “assassin and a thug…”

That Double winning season proved to be the peak for that Arsenal side. It came as a shock when Don Howe resigned to manage WBA at the beginning of the 1971/72 season. Storey couldn’t understand why the Coach had left when there was the challenge of the European Cup and the chance to build a legacy at Arsenal existed. Whilst the departure of Howe didn’t have an immediate effect, Storey felt that there was a gradual decline in standards, discipline and direction which meant the Gunners never hit the heights of the Double winning season. Arsenal returned to Wembley for the 1972 FA Cup Final, but lost out to Leeds United 1-0. 1972/73 the Gunners finished runners-up to Liverpool for the title. However, the following season they finished 10th. 1974/75 was even worse with Arsenal bottom during October 1974 before finishing 16th and they finished 17th in 1975/76. Storey started that season in the reserves and despite some first team appearances, was suspended by the club in March after a row with Bertie Mee. Terry Neil came in as the new Gunners boss in 1976/77 and offered a way back for Storey, who by his own admission was “…on the piss and out of condition…” To his credit Storey battled back to fitness but as the season went on he was honest enough to acknowledge that he “…was drinking and not really interested in playing for Arsenal any longer…” In March 1977 Peter Storey was transferred to Fulham, where he teamed up with Bobby Moore and George Best. He helped save the Cottagers from relegation and started the 1977/78 season at Craven Cottage. However, his heart wasn’t really in it and he played his last game as a professional footballer on Saturday 10th September 1977 ironically away at Spurs.

In recounting the episodes regarding his life after football, Peter Storey is incredibly candid. Indeed this extends to his relationships and marriages, where Storey recognises that his selfish and vain life-style were major factors in their failure. Storey doesn’t hide his brushes with the law or try to blame anybody else. He admits that he missed the buzz that football had provided him with and was “…attracted to the brash, flash lifestyle enjoyed by smartly dressed thieves…the way they always seemed to have a pretty girl on one arm, a pocketful of ready cash and plenty of time to indulge themselves…”. Storey pinpoints the buying of the Jolly Farmers in the summer of 1975 as the beginning of the end. Storey honestly admits, “…the decline, when it came, was relatively swift, brutal and mostly my own fault…and (I) found solace in a bottle…” The spiral downwards included, spells in jail for smuggling pornographic videos and conspiracy to counterfeit gold half-sovereigns, a suspended sentence for running a brothel and conviction for selling cars which were on hire-purchase. Reading these final chapters of the book is a shocking, yet sobering experience, that illustrates how easily life can descend into chaos.

It is a book which provides a great insight into a genuine Gunners legend, honestly detailing the highs of his playing career and the murky lows of crime and prison in life after football. However, Storey was lucky that he had people to help and support him to emerge the other side and now lives a contented life in France with wife Daniele. Storey closes by telling with obvious pride about the three boys he has and the simple enjoyment that a few beers shared with his sons and his father can bring. The hatchet man has put down his axe and seems at peace with the world.

 

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2011/12: ECQ Group G – England v Wales (Wembley)

The Friday night win by England in Bulgaria was made all the sweeter by Wales victory over Montenegro on the same evening. These results meant that England now had a lead of 3 points at the top of the Group going into their home game against the Welsh. A victory at Wembley would all but seal qualification for England; anything else would mean a nervy final fixture in Podgorica next month.

Whilst pleased that England came away from Sofia with a win, the assertions by some quarters of the media that this was a ‘new dawn’ from a ‘young England’ has left me a touch apprehensive. The reality is that Bulgaria are a pretty ordinary international team, yet still tested England. This result and indeed the performances in this Qualifying campaign have left me feeling that up against the top world sides in the major competitions England will continue to struggle.

As the game approaches tonight, I have that feeling in the gut that it won’t be plain sailing tonight. Wales will have their dragon-tails up after their victory on Friday night and would like nothing less that denting England’s hopes of Qualification at Wembley. Many people consider that England failed to Qualify for the 1974 World Cup in West Germany because of the 1-1 draw in the final fixture against Poland on a damp October night in 1973. However, Wales played their part in ensuring England didn’t make it through. Having beaten Wales 1-0 in Cardiff in November 1972, Sir Alf Ramsey must have thought his England team would do the double over The Dragons when the Welsh came to Wembley in January 1973. Wales hadn’t read the script and lead on 23 minutes through a John Toshack goal. Norman Hunter did level the scores just before half-time, but England couldn’t find a winner in the second half and their World Cup dream was coming apart at the seams. Nine months later and it was kaput. Signor Capello you have been warned.

Well the only positive thing to say is that England won the game. As with many others who have just witnessed the 90 minutes at Wembley, I am left with a feeling of disappointment and no little relief. The opening 30 minutes England had plenty of possession, but it was mostly in the defensive third of the field. When on the ball they looked ponderous, lacked movement and were without ideas or inspiration. Is it just me, but are James Milner, Gareth Barry or Stewart Downing really international class footballers? The ten minutes before half-time when Ashley Young scored offered some hope, when there appeared to at last be a vibrancy and purpose about their play. Indeed for the opening ten minutes of the second half, England took the game once again to Wales and I was hopeful that a second goal would follow. However, that was as good as it got for Capello’s team as they withered away in the remainder of the game. Wales took control and England were unable to retain any sort of possession. The Dragons were comfortably the better team in the second half and but for Rob Earnshaw missing what can only be described as a ‘sitter’, would have deservedly taken a point from this fixture.

As is it England travel to Montenegro next month knowing a point will see them through to the 2012 Euro Finals in Poland/Ukraine next June. However, you can only agree with the Welsh fans who by the end of the game were taunting their English counterparts by chanting, “…Fourth in the rankings, you’re having a laugh…”

Greavsie: a man of two books

I’m doubly lucky. I’ve got two signed copies of a Jimmy Greaves autobiography and each book is different. In both cases, Greaves thanks a co-writer so I have two semi-autobiographies. The names of these demi-semi-autobiographies are ‘A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON MY WAY TO SPURS’ and ‘GREAVSIE’. It would be hard to miss that the titles have something in common. Every time Jimmy Greaves and his ghostly friends write an autobiography, they use block capitals FOR THE TITLES.

They also tell us something about changing times. Back in the days when the first book appeared (1962) readers could cope with allusion. It is a punning reference to the Stephen Sondheim musical A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum which opened on Broadway in May of that year. Strangely, the film version came out in 1966 and the England World Cup squad went to watch it prior to beating West Germany. A funny thing.

By 2003 our modern readership can just about cope with a one word title. There is sadness, too, in the overly familiar moniker ‘Greavsie’, the persona adopted by the reformed alcoholic Greaves as part of a once-popular TV double act ‘Saint and Greavsie’. This offered him a form of earthly salvation, under the tutelage of a grinning St John, when he had reinvented himself as a pundit, years after his glittering soccer career had ended.

It is only fair to point out here that Jimmy Greaves was the finest goal-scorer this writer has ever seen, a kind of Raul-plus, and Raul was fantastic at his best. JG was the coolest of finishers with the ability to scoot past very good defenders before simply slipping the ball into the back of the net and there was nothing they could do to stop him. I had a friend at university who was a Spurs fan. Whenever we met, if I so much as mentioned his hero, he would fly away in a mental rapture and it would be several minutes before he landed back on earth.

The problem with the first book is that it was brought out when he was 22, timed to cash in on his escape from the unhappy stint playing for Milan, a return of 9 goals in 12 games clearly reflecting his talent but in those days, abroad was abroad, cultures were very different and the cockney cocksparrer didn’t fit in. So, back to London with a big money transfer. He had scored 124 goals in 157 games for Chelsea before his unhappy Italian sojourn and was welcomed home by Double winners, Spurs. What a talent! But how do you write about your own genius since it all comes so naturally? And yet it turned out that there was much more to him than either he or the wider world could cope with back then. He gave in to the Dark Side, Luke. Poor old Greaves. The story has grown into legend that Ramsey’s preference for Geoff Hurst in the World Cup Final drove him over the edge. How different it all might have been if substitutes were allowed back in ’66.

The second book gets round this genius-thing pretty well by dealing, fairly honestly, with his colossal fall from grace into an alcoholic nightmare world. It deals with other things, too, including the almost obligatory ‘state of the game today’ section and it deliberately does not try to leave the reader green with envy. Who would want to end up like him throwing it all away? He might have scored 220 goals in 321 appearances for Spurs plus sundry other league goals and 44 in 57 games for England but we read about a failed man who has had the good fortune, family support and the strength of character to do something about it.

Both books are basically honest, team efforts about a supremely talented individual. The first one pretends to be just looking back but is clearly suggesting it is only the thrilling first half. The second book spends 300 pages dealing with the first 30 years and 80 dealing with the next 30. That gives some clue as to which part of his life he was most pleased to look back on.

I suppose I would have liked to read just one Jimmy Greaves autobiography, possibly even written by himself, when he was 44 and looking back on a hugely successful career, a lorra laughs and maybe a few tears along the way. You flick through the two sections of photographs – and who doesn’t look at the photos before embarking on the reading bit? As you do so, you have a growing feeling of trepidation that, after the glorious pics of Jim foxing yet another defence, there will be the ‘loser Jim’ to face, and there is. Thankfully, you are then given the blessing of a family shot of doting grandparents and six of his ten grandchildren, all bright as buttons.

Whilst I suppose each ghost-writer did his bit, forty years apart, what intrigues me most is what the young Jim and the older Greavsie might say to each other if, time warps permitting, they could meet face to face?  

Graeme Garvey

Buy: A funny thing happened on my way to Spurs

 

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Plain Strains & Auto-biographies (Act II) – Ray of the Rivers

…. the thing about Roy Race is, well, he’s not really real but he’s sort of real in a life-mirrors-cartoon kind of way. Roy started out looking like Burnley’s Ray Pointer, big blond quiff and all but, as fashions changed, so did Roy’s haircut. To be seen as ‘with it’, suddenly, his hair was combed forward in a way that eerily anticipated Kenny Dalglish’s quizzical look. All the things that were deemed to be happening in the football world from the fifties through to the nineties, Roy and his team, the mighty Melchester Rovers did. European Cups, being kidnapped, repeatedly – all the exciting things that were being covered by the newspapers were given a slight fictional twist and fed to the boys who avidly read their weekly Tiger then Roy of the Rovers comics.

Eventually, they pensioned off old Roy when he would have been a sixty-year-old player/manager if he had not kept plunging himself into the Fountain of Youth. They made it permanent by slicing off his foot in a helicopter crash so that he truly was finished and there could be no more heroic hat tricks against Chidsea but not before the blurring of reality and fantasy had been accomplished. Actual footballers like Bob Wilson, Emlyn Hughes, Malcolm Macdonald and Trevor Francis began to be featured in the comic, presumably to make it seem more authentic. Geoff Boycott served for several years as Melchester’s chairman and Sir Alf Ramsey briefly managed them. When Roy announced his resignation as Rovers manager in 1992, he did so live on Sky Sports in front of the normally unshockable but for once shocked presenters Richard Keys and Andy Gray.

And now we have a strange reversal where current footballers at the very top appear to live in a fictional world, completely out of touch with reality. Fans don’t want to read about Wayne Rooney having to ring the Council seventeen times to have his drains unblocked, they want to read about how an extremely ordinary Scouse lad’s extraordinary talent has landed him in a gigantic goldfish-bowl world of spectacular goals scored by overhead kicks, and about his super-duper house and holidays in places not called Liverpool. And they definitely don’t want the low down about visiting any ‘grandmas’ – do they?

When you consider the real world, as most of us experience it, and the fictional world, it would seem that our superstar footballers have more in common with the fictional. And can Ian Rush and Gary Speed be entirely coincidental echoes of Roy Race? Perhaps football scouts should spend more time scouring the phone book for people with names like Dash, Sprint and Run-Fast.

Roy was way ahead of his time when it came to banana-swerve wonder goals whose impossible paths to goal were so neatly drawn, maybe with an added ‘whoosh’. Impossible? Only in the days when footballs were made of suet pudding. Now, with the modern, lightweight plazzy ones, the only thing a ball cannot do any more is fly straight, true and wobble-free.

 

Graeme Garvey