Sir Bobby Charlton

Sir Bobby Charlton. A very humble ordinary man who did extraordinary things and stood for everything that Manchester United should be about. A gentleman footballer, a gentleman off the pitch. Sir Bobby like all Munich survivors and those connected with Manchester United in that period hardly ever spoke about it. They say the Bobby Charlton who boarded that aircraft, a happy, go lucky, smiling young boy who had the football world at his feet was never the same afterwards. The pain and the shock of what he witnessed lived forever with him. A dark angel on his shoulders. But there was one place where Sir Bobby found solace. Where for ninety minutes at least the faces, the laughter, the voices faded away as the game took over. There he was simply Bobby Charlton the footballer. Full of grace, two footed, gliding across the pitch, forever on the move and when the opportunity arose, Bobby's shooting was like a grenade exploding. There appeared no back lift, like a ballerina but then bang! I don't believe the horrors of Munich never really left him, but he lived a life full. Sir Bobby was the last to die from that Busby Babes line-up, before the game against Red Star Belgrade, on February 5 1958. A long, gone winter's day behind the Iron Curtain. A pitch full of snow but melting fast. A touch of spring in the Yugoslav air. A man whose heart was broken at Munich, and who became more of a Mancunian than those actually born here. For nobody loved Manchester United more than Sir Bobby Charlton.