Guest Post by Mike Ireson
Sir Trevor Brooking is my god.
No seriously, please don’t stop reading. This isn’t the mad scribblings of a lunatic, crayoned on to the back of a packet of Wheetabix and sent to Points of View.
At 45 years old I can confidently make that statement knowing that I am not alone. There are thousands more like me . I am part of a lucky generation to have been a child growing up with Sir Trevor gracing the field for West Ham United and England.
December 1981, I had just turned 13 and was spending a usual Sunday at my Grandparents. My mum told me we were off out somewhere in my Granddad’s car. Nothing too unusual there, so I plonked myself in the back and off we went. I noticed we weren’t going in the usual directions and enquired as to where we were going. “Well,” my mum said. “We’ve got a surprise for you”
“Yes…..” I replied, praying it wasn’t going to be something dull.
“You’re going to meet Trevor Brooking.”
“What!!??!!” I exclaimed. He was my hero.
It turned out he was signing copies of his autobiography at the since defunct Walthamstow Avenue football club. The rest of the journey a blur we arrived at the ground. We ended up at what was their boardroom. The door was opened and there was huge long table, sat at the end was my hero. My mum purchased the book and thrust it in to my hand. I was then in the small line of boys awaiting the chance to meet their hero. Being a shy boy my nervousness was heightened to an absurd level.
Then the time came, I shuffled up to be standing next to Trevor. He looked up, smiled that smile, and incredibly started talking to me. “Hello, What’s your name? Where are you from? Where do you go to School? What sports do you play?
I spluttered answers the best I could, I could not believe that Trevor Brooking was talking to me, and not only that but he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say.
He made this 13 year old boy feel special. He spoke to me in that elegant manner, almost regal like but without the pomp. He signed my book, the writing neat and noble. If God wrote you a letter it would look like that. I’ve looked at that inscription many times in the ensuing 33 years and without fail I feel how I felt at the moment the pen was on the paper.
My hero made me feel like it was his pleasure to meet me. That 5 minute chat laid a foundation for me. I was shown what a true gentleman is.
Confirmed whenever I watched him on television, it wasn’t an act. Mention his name to anyone, West Ham fan or not, you’ll never hear a negative word about him. This young boy wanted to be Trevor Brooking, but not the player, the man.