THE GREAT ESCAPE—
My thoughts raced back to the day Bamber and I watched with a keen eye as a young Bryan Robson played the intermediate league game at Spring Lane in the Black Country. It was the first time I ever laid eyes on him, and as I look back, I count it one of the highlights of my career—predicting that Bryan would one day play for England.
He did play for England, representing his country on ninety occasions. He was the sixth and most capped player for England of all time and has the eleventh highest goal scoring tally with twenty-six. Robbo was captain of his country sixty-five times. Only Bobby Moore and Billy Wright captained England on more occasions. It filled me up to think that I was about to be on my way to spend a day with West Bromwich Albion and the legendary Bryan Robson, thanks to my mate, Bamber.
He did play for England, representing his country on ninety occasions. He was the sixth and most capped player for England of all time and has the eleventh highest goal scoring tally with twenty-six. Robbo was captain of his country sixty-five times. Only Bobby Moore and Billy Wright captained England on more occasions. It filled me up to think that I was about to be on my way to spend a day with West Bromwich Albion and the legendary Bryan Robson, thanks to my mate, Bamber.
I left the Treasure Coast that day, driving over to meet the lads, feeling like a schoolboy again with thoughts that it would be just like the days when Bamber and I used to watch Albion train when we were so very young.
I knew the venue well. They would be training where some of my Coerver Elite boys’ teams have played a few tournaments in the past—Disney’s Wide World of Sports, a lovely venue, indeed. I arrived, got out of my car, and walked to the kiosk where Bamber had told me to check in.
It was one of those goose-bumps moments, and so I shivered as I made my way to the pitches, deep inside relishing the privilege that was about to be mine. The baseball stadium was to the left, and in the distance I could just make out the medieval-type flags waving in the cool Florida breeze, telling me where the footy fields were. I was getting close, and when I saw those players in a practice game wearing Albion colours and stripes, I knew I had arrived, and my heart skipped a beat or two.
I knew the venue well. They would be training where some of my Coerver Elite boys’ teams have played a few tournaments in the past—Disney’s Wide World of Sports, a lovely venue, indeed. I arrived, got out of my car, and walked to the kiosk where Bamber had told me to check in.
It was one of those goose-bumps moments, and so I shivered as I made my way to the pitches, deep inside relishing the privilege that was about to be mine. The baseball stadium was to the left, and in the distance I could just make out the medieval-type flags waving in the cool Florida breeze, telling me where the footy fields were. I was getting close, and when I saw those players in a practice game wearing Albion colours and stripes, I knew I had arrived, and my heart skipped a beat or two.
I could see Bamber in the distance, walking toward me. He put out a hand and said in his typical broad accent, “A doo, mucka.” We shook hands and stood there watching our heroes play. Just like we used to all those years ago. We were school boys again. Living in another moment of glory.
Robbo was performing at his best amongst the players. There he was head coach, and he couldn’t resist playing the game he loves so much, always leading by example, doing what comes naturally to him. He wasn’t that skinny little fifteen-year-old Bamber and I first saw at Spring Lane that day so long ago, but he still played with all the flair of a football legend, such a stylish player. Always.
After the game, Nigel Pearson came over and introduced himself, we talked for awhile, and then he introduced me to Robbo. We participated in a little photo op. I value that photograph with Robbo to this day. He and I chatted briefly, I wished him the best for the season, then thanked him for including me on this one magnificent day, and I expressed my appreciation that Bamber had arranged for me to be there.
This well-earned break in Orlando, a tactical move by Robbo, surely sparked some much-needed energy and momentum for Albion. They started to win a few games, made a remarkable comeback to become the first Premier League club—the top division team in fourteen years to avoid relegation, having been bottom of the table at Christmas that year. Robbo led the team to that “last-day” breakout. They call it The Great Escape. I’ll never forget the day. Such a Happy Christmas, indeed!
Excerpts from GIBBO
Jane Bennett Gaddy, Ph.D.
Excerpts from GIBBO
Jane Bennett Gaddy, Ph.D.
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