There are games that I remember from way back that stick in my head because they were great contests, or graced by a great goal or two, or a fine individual/team performance. This game had all of these, but that is not why I remember it as vividly as I do.
Something changed for me after this game, even though I could not put it into words at the time. It was like the first time you realise your Dad is not a superhero but is, in fact, a human being capable of mistakes, misjudgements and blind spots.
The season had started quite well, especially for me as a young Sunderland fan from mid-Northumberland. The first six games into our First Division campaign saw one defeat, two draws and three wins. I had managed to get to all our home games in that opening spell – good wins against Fulham and Everton, and a thrilling draw against the Busby Babes, including George Best, Bobby Charlton, Brian Kidd and Nobby Stiles. I was a very happy and mightily distracted young fan.
My delirium was tempered only by the fact that I had not seen one of my original idols so far this season.
When I first started going to Roker Park in 1965/66, Jim Baxter and Charlie Hurley were my heroes. I knew they were two very different players and coveted the fearlessness and hardness of Hurley. He was a giant and a leader, and I wanted to be like that. I remember, though, thinking I had more chance of being like Jim Baxter… I saw myself as quick and clever on the field of play, full of tricks and cheeky with it, and even though my coaches seemed to think the wing was the place for me, it was the engine room, dictating the play and creating goals for my grateful teammates and hordes of adoring fans, where I was convinced I would end up. Even then, though, as young as I was, Charlie Hurley had something I admired, something I wanted, to make me the complete central midfield player.
The excitement of the first six games of 1967/68 soon gave way to anxiety and disbelief (though I did not know that was what I was experiencing back then; it just felt really crappy).
We lost the next four games by an aggregate score of thirteen to one (13-1), and even the one goal credited to us was an own goal scored by the great England World Cup-winning captain Bobby Moore as his team thumped us 5-1 at Roker Park following our rip-roaring game with Manchester United.
I remember telling my Dad, “It’s like somebody had stolen all our players and replaced them with long-lost twins who are really bad at football.” He told me that would make a good novel and I should work on the story, but I really wasn’t in the fettle for advice from a Newcastle fan at this juncture!
I just needed my team to win again, and I wanted to know where King Charlie Hurley was. I was sure he would make the difference, wouldn’t he?
I was unaware that Hurley was at loggerheads with Jim Baxter and manager Ian McColl. Charlie and Lenny Ashurst were faces that did not appear to fit in McColl’s plans. John Parke had been bought from Hibernian and was playing left-back. George Kinnell had been bought from Oldham Athletic and had been installed as first-choice centre-half AND team captain. It did not make sense to me. Young as I was, I resolved to give Ian McColl a piece of my mind at our next game at Roker Park, against Manchester City.
Before then, to add to my upset at how our league form was going, I had suffered a huge disappointment in my match-going antics.
A game had sprung up on me unprepared. Somehow, I had missed the fact that Charlie Hurley was having a testimonial match in the midweek before the City game. I used every argument I could think of to get to go to the game, but my parents said no. Did they not realise that Charlie Hurley would be gutted if I did not show up? Seemingly not. All reasonable arguments failed, so, in the sulks, I whacked my brother, who was laughing at me, and ended up in “jankers” (housebound) for the rest of the week. This was a pain, not only restricting my football on the patch of mud we nicknamed “Wembley” down the cut from our house, but also severely restricting my ability to earn pocket money running errands, etc., which, of course, paid my entry fee into Roker Park to see my idols! What an idiot I was. I learnt, though, from this experience and never got caught whacking my brother again.
Thankfully, Dad relented and let me go to the City game that Saturday (I think, in all fairness, he was sick of the sight of my sulky face), though I did catch him reading the Journal report on the Hurley testimonial and heard him tell my Mam that Hurst, Peters, Moore and Osgood had all played, as well as former player Jim McNab! It felt like he was giving the knife in my back a short, sharp twist at the time, but as I think back on this, I suspect he was feeling a bit sorry for me.
One thing he did share with me from that report was that McColl had announced on the night of the testimonial that Hurley would play his first game of the season against Man City at Roker Park that coming Saturday.
Boy, did I work for my pocket money that week! What I had not taken in was that Hurley had asked to go on the transfer list. Years later, I read in his biography that having the captaincy and his first-team place removed in the manner they had been was not something he was prepared to tolerate.
As I took my place in the Boys Enclosure, one of the older lads was explaining that Jim Baxter would not be playing after this game, as he had received a three-match ban for getting sent off against Fulham earlier in the season. I remember thinking the rest might do him good, as I did not think he had quite been at his best so far this season, and some fans were shouting at him quite a bit during games!
The wily Joe Mercer and his right-hand man Malcolm Allison had steered City to promotion in 1965/66. They had managed to stay up the following season and arrived at Roker Park in reasonable form and challenging the top five. Their team that day was only two players short of the team that would take them through to become league champions on the last day of the season in a thrilling game at Newcastle. One of those two players was Mike Doyle, who was actually an unused sub for this game. The other player was forward Franny Lee, who would sign for City from Bolton Wanderers only days after this game.
City had an ex-Newcastle centre-half playing, George Heslop, whom my father (a Toony) swore should never have been let go. Tony Book and Glynn Pardoe, whose cousin Alan Oakes played in midfield, were part of a formidable defence. Colin Bell, a County Durham lad, played in midfield alongside Oakes and delighted in the nickname Nijinsky (a prize-winning racehorse) due to his box-to-box ninety minutes and some performances. He also came to be known as “the King of the Kippax” and a City legend, but that came later.
City had a real firebrand on the left wing in Tony Coleman, who had almost blown his career when he assaulted a referee while playing for Doncaster. Mike Summerbee and Neil Young (not that Neil Young) were a potent twin strike force who would score forty-one goals between them in helping City to the league trophy. The feisty Summerbee (who was the father of Nicky Summerbee, who would join us under Peter Reid’s tenure as manager) was a winger who could play centrally and had a knack for goals. A young nineteen-year-old Stan Bowles also played, but his City career was littered with disciplinary and off-field problems and he did not feature greatly in the league-winning team, and contrived to miss a relative sitter in this game!
It was a bizarre line-up that Ian McColl put out for this game. Two goal-scoring inside-forwards in Ralph Brand and Colin Suggett played on the wings. Two centre-halves, Brian Heslop and George Kinnell, lined up as inside-forwards (though Heslop did revert to a more defensive role). Colin Todd played alongside Charlie Hurley in the centre of defence, with Baxter playing at left-half.
There looked to be just under 30,000 fans in Roker Park at kick-off as City went with the wind towards the Roker End.
One of the things I particularly remember about this game was appreciating, for the first time, the opposition team and the way they played. Though I probably would not have used these words at the time, what I saw was a unit, a tightly drilled team who played to each other’s strengths and worked really hard on and off the ball. There did not seem to be too many weak links in the City team, with Bell and Oakes in particular catching my eye that day.
From the kick-off, it was all City. They could have easily been three or four goals to the good in the first twenty minutes as Sunderland struggled to get the ball, let alone keep it!
Within two minutes, Oakes had flashed a twenty-five-yarder goal-bound, and Jimmy Montgomery finger-tipped that one to safety. A few minutes later, Bell whipped a cross-come-shot from an angle that hit the bar, cannoning down into Cecil Irwin and rebounding into Monty’s grateful arms, with Summerbee poised to net any rebound. Around fifteen minutes in, a neat bit of play between Young and Summerbee put Bowles through on goal, but with Monty haring out towards him, he screwed his shot wide of the post.
It was breathless stuff from City, but slowly we found a way into the game. Baxter was beginning to have just a bit of strut, with Hurley and Todd managing good challenges (and one or two illegal ones) on Young and Summerbee.
On the half-hour, Cecil Irwin raided for probably the first time down his flank and fired a low cross to Suggett in the box. His deft touch to Baxter allowed the Scot just enough time to spin the ball out to Neil Martin on the right. It was a delightful pass that Martin connected with twenty yards out on the volley. His shot dipped and swerved at the last moment, smashing off the base of the far post and into the goal to the absolute delight (and surprise) of the majority in the ground.
Less than a minute later, Todd and Summerbee were booked for a fracas after the youngster had felled the feisty forward on the run.
By this point in the game, despite City’s dominance, there were signs that Sunderland might just get something out of the game as half-time came.
The second half was a bit more even in terms of chances. Though City were by far the slicker outfit, Sunderland could at least say they strained every sinew to get a result.
For Sunderland, Brand was put through by a clever Suggett pass after Heslop had won the ball in defence with a timely tackle and fed the lively youngster. Brand smashed his shot against the advancing Mulhearn.
Hurley then saved a certain goal after Young had side-stepped Montgomery to give himself an open goal. Hurley appeared from literally nowhere to chest the ball to safety.
Brand then returned the favour to Suggett with a sharp one-two that saw Suggett smash the ball off the post.
Todd had a good effort rifle just past the post, and Mulhearn produced an excellent double save from a Martin header and a smothered Suggett shot to keep City in the game.
City continued to play slick, accurate football, threatening to turn the game around, but also leaving spaces that Baxter was increasingly inclined to use.
With Hurley leading from the front, ably assisted by Todd, and Baxter playing as well as he had done all season, Sunderland saw the game out. It had taken a monumental effort and City had certainly impressed many in Roker Park.
My two idols had made an impression. I left Roker Park chuffed that Jim Baxter had put a performance in; I just wished he would do it every game! As for King Charlie, his battling and leadership qualities, allied to his skill, particularly on the ball, had me positively purring as I made my way home.
Argus in the Echo described Hurley as “the main factor…” in the victory. Alf Greenly in the Journal simply wrote “Vintage Hurley”. Ivor Broadis, writing in the Sunday Sun, was equally glowing about Hurley’s return, but gave due credit to Man City.
Man City went on to win the league in an end-of-season shoot-out at Newcastle. In a neat bit of symmetry, whilst City were at Newcastle, their nearest rivals Man United were at home to Sunderland. As the Lads did City a favour by winning by two goals to one, City beat Newcastle by four goals to three in a pulsating game that I got to see live, with an Uncle who still fancied he could swing me over to Newcastle! He would never manage this, but for a while at least I was happy to tag along to “big games” when asked.
Division One
Date – 07.10.1967
Venue – Roker Park
Attendance – 27,885
Sunderland 1 – 0 Manchester City
Goal scorer – Neil Martin, 30 mins.
Sunderland – Montgomery; Irwin; Parke; Todd; Hurley; Baxter; Suggett; Kinnell; Martin; Heslop; Brand. Sub – Herd.
Man City – Mulhearn; Book; Pardoe; Horne; Heslop G; Oakes; Bowles; Bell; Summerbee; Young; Coleman. Sub – Doyle.
