Sir Alf. Leo McKinstry

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СКАЧАТЬ it and that his greatest times of all were down on the Helford River in Cornwall. It was in the army, he said to me, that he first really learned about discipline and about being in charge of people, taking command and giving orders. He used to say, ‘I have never been very good at mixing with people but you have to in the army or else you are in trouble.’

      The greatest benefit of all was that it enabled Alf to play more football than he had ever done previously – and at a higher class. Within a few months of arriving in Cornwall, he had been transferred to help man the beach defences at St Austell; there he became part of the local battalion team, captaining the side and playing at either centre-half or centre-forward. He was then moved to various other camps along the south coast before reaching Barton Stacey in Hampshire in 1943, where he was fortunate to come under the benign influence of Colonel Fletcher, a football obsessive who had played for the Army. Because of the war, several League professionals were in Alf’s battalion side, including Len Townsend of Brentford and Cyril Hodges of Arsenal. Impressed by such strength, Southampton invited the battalion to visit the Dell for a preseason game on the 21 August 1943. The result was a disaster for Ramsey’s men, as they were thrashed 10-3. ‘The soldiers are a very useful battalion team but they had not the experience to withstand the more forceful play of the Saints,’ reported the Southern Daily Echo. It was Alf’s first experience of playing against top-flight players and he found it something of a shock. ‘At centre-half I was often bewildered by the speed of thought and movement shown by the professionals we opposed.’ Despite the depressing scoreline, Ramsey’s men had shown some promise, for a week later they were invited back to the Dell to play against Southampton Reserves. This time Sergeant Ramsey’s side provided much more effective opposition, winning 4-1.

      Ramsey’s performances in these two games had aroused the interest of Southampton. More than a month later he was summoned to Colonel Fletcher’s office. Initially believing that he had committed some military office, Ramsey feared he was about to be reprimanded.

      ‘Sit down, Sergeant,’ said Colonel Fletcher when Ramsey arrived in his office. Alf was at once relieved, knowing that the Colonel would hardly have been so friendly if he was about to punish him. ‘I have just had a telephone call from Southampton Football Club,’ continued the Colonel. ‘Apparently they are short of a centre-half for their first team tomorrow and would like you to play for them. Well, Sergeant, how do you feel about the idea?’

      Ever cautious and modest, Alf then muttered something about his ‘lack of experience’. Colonel Fletcher had little truck with such diffidence. ‘This is a big opportunity, Ramsey,’ he said, looking hard at the raven-haired sergeant. ‘I suppose you have at some time or another considered becoming a professional footballer.’ Alf, ignoring his abortive connection with Portsmouth, claimed untruthfully that he had ‘never given it a thought’. But he assured the Colonel that he was ‘prepared to give it a try’. Without another word, Fletcher was back on the phone to Southampton, reporting that Sergeant Ramsey was available for the match against Luton Town at Kenilworth Road. Alf admitted that, once he left the Colonel’s office, he ‘did a little tap-dance with delight. Even the orderly sitting behind a small desk forgot that I was a sergeant and joined in the laughter’.

      Alf was instructed to report at Southampton Central railway station the following morning before the train journey to Bedfordshire. When he turned up that Saturday morning, 9 October 1943, he was met by the elderly, bespectacled secretary-manager of Southampton, Jack Sarjantson, a figure rare in the annals of League history for both the longevity and the range of service to his club. He had been appointed a Southampton director as early as 1914, had become club chairman in 1936, then resigned during the war to act as secretary-manager, before returning to the boardroom to serve as chairman and later vice-president in the 1950s. For all his advanced years, he was also something of a ladies’ man, who, in the words of the Southampton historian David Bull, ‘had a way of flirting with the young wives and girlfriends at the club’s social functions’.

      After introducing Alf to the other Southampton players, Sarjantson then asked Alf about his expenses. According to his 1952 autobiography, Alf told his manager that his only claim was for his ‘twopenny halfpenny tram fare from my billet’. In response, Sarjantson ‘dived into pocket’ and pulled out the exact amount. But later, in 1970, Alf gave a much more convincing version, one that reflects the flexible attitude of clubs towards expenses in the days of the maximum wage:

      I told Mr Sarjantson that since we were stationed in Southampton I did not have any expenses. He said, ‘Well, if I give you thirty bob is that enough to pay for your taxi fare?’ I said it was more than enough. It was the first time anyone had given me any money for playing.

      Alf was equally flexible about his age. In his 1952 book he claimed that when he played against Luton, ‘I had just reached the age of twenty-two’. In fact, he was only three months away from his 24th birthday.

      Having sorted out Alf’s expenses so generously, Sarjantson then produced a set of forms for him to sign as an amateur. After his last experience with Portsmouth, this time Alf was only too glad to know that his signature would definitely be followed by a match. ‘As the London-bound train swished through Eastleigh station, I signed for Southampton Football club,’ recorded Alf. On the train up to Luton, he sat beside the Saints inside-forward Ted Bates, later to be manager at the Dell, and who, like Alf, had been a grocery delivery boy in his teens and whose wife Mary was soon to become the first female assistant secretary in League football. ‘Throughout the journey, he told me what I could expect from football: the kind of teams we would be meeting and other little facts which meant a great deal to a new recruit,’ wrote Alf. His first appearance for the Saints was a tight match, one that left him disappointed with his own performance, which he felt was far below the standard of the rest of the side. Ten minutes from the end, Southampton were winning 2-1, when Alf gave away a penalty. ‘I remember tackling someone rather hard,’ he said in 1970. Luton scored from the spot and Alf sensed that ‘several of my colleagues were giving me black looks’. Fortunately Don Roper restored the lead for Southampton soon afterwards, so Alf’s first outing resulted in victory. And he had perhaps been too hard on himself: the view of the Southern Daily Echo was that ‘the defence as a whole functioned satisfactorily’.

      They did far worse in their next game, when Southampton were beaten 7-1 by Queen’s Park Rangers in the League South, the makeshift wartime replacement for the Football League. ‘Ramsey at centre-half rarely countered the combined skill of the opposing centre-forwards,’ said the local press. But Sarjantson, with stretched wartime resources, did not drop the faltering defender immediately. Alf played three more League South games in that 1943-44 season before being posted with his battalion to County Durham. Despite his mixed fortunes, he had enjoyed his brief spell with the club. ‘What fascinated me was meeting the players, sitting with them, having lunch on the train, talking football. All very interesting. It left a great impression on me, and probably started my ambition to become a professional footballer,’ he wrote in 1970.

      Yet Alf, with such limited experience, was still plagued by lack of belief in his own ability and worries about finance. It is striking that when he was stationed in Durham, he played little senior competitive football. He turned out for his battalion in one match at Roker Park against Sunderland, but failed to do enough to persuade Sunderland’s manager, Bill Murray, to invite him to play in any wartime games, even though the relaxed registration rules of the period allowed a soldier to guest for almost any club he wanted – one reason why the garrison town of Aldershot was packed with star servicemen like Tommy Lawton. And when Alf was posted back to Southampton at the beginning of the 1944-45 season and performed well in a trial match, he once more hesitated about becoming a professional after Sarjantson had offered him a contract with Southampton, earning £2 per match. Alf was never one to make swift decisions. He told Sarjantson, with a touch of boldness that masked his inner doubts: ‘Although I’ve played in professional football as an amateur, I know practically nothing about it. And what if I don’t like the club?’ Sarjantson replied that if Alf wanted to leave the club at the end of the season, Southampton СКАЧАТЬ