Manchester United and England great Sir Bobby Charlton dies aged 86
It is hard to imagine a man being so loved as Sir Bobby Charlton was the one night I spent some precious time in his company. Once again, following his sad passing on Saturday morning at the age of 86, family and the wider world are uniting to pay tribute to the ultimate gentleman.
Back in December 2008, and Sir Bobby had just been presented with the BBC Sports Personality Lifetime Achievement award by his older brother Jack.
Behind the scenes, I was among a small group of reporters allowed behind the scenes to follow him between back-slaps and handshakes from Olympic gold medallists and world champions, never more than a few inches from the man who had so famously made it two Charltons on the team-sheet for what is still the greatest afternoon of English footballing history.
What made it all the more remarkable was that the pair had not spoken to each other for 12 years. Jack had questioned his younger brother’s commitment to their beloved mother Cissie in her final days – claims that Bobby had labelled “absolutely disgraceful” in a book just 12 months earlier.
But all of that was forgotten in a hug, as unknown to Sir Bobby, his own brother appeared to give him the last of so many trophies.
“Bobby Charlton is the greatest player I’ve ever seen,” Jack had said on stage. “And he’s my brother.” From the bravery he had shown as a 20-year-old coming to terms with the aftermath of the Munich Air Crash, Sir Bobby was always a national treasure.
The record books can be unkind and his records of 249 United goals, 758 United appearances and 49 England goals have all subsequently been overtaken.
But nobody could take away the look of genuine awe from those VIP guests at the BBC jamboree, honoured despite all their own success just to be able to congratulate Sir Bobby on his award.
Quietly-spoken, impeccably dressed and somehow much smaller than the man who used to belt those heavy brown leather balls into the top corner with such aplomb, he accepted the applause graciously. Almost embarrassed.
He was a word–perfect ambassador for all that he stood for throughout his life.
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The cruel disease of dementia that robbed him finally of his brother three years ago would soon begin to take a grip on his own life, and the very public matchday reminder of all that Manchester United aspired to stand for slowly retired from out of the directors’ box at Old Trafford and slid graciously out of the limelight.
Sir Bobby spent his final moments here with his family – and one hopes he is now once again his brother, joyfully and finally reunited, as they were that night in 2008.
Not to mention the young team-mates from 1958, whose honour and potential he served so diligently and brilliantly as he did until he was the very last man standing.
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