I met Bobby Robson once. It was a Tuesday night in the late 80s. I noticed him in the carpark at Anfield. He was fiddling with stuff in his boot. He was England’s manager at the time. England were awful as usual.
I was of the mind that England needed a centre half with pace, one with the added ability of being able to string a few passes together. Mr. Robson, I said. “You’ve really got to get a grip of your backline…it’s crap.” He looked up. Startled. I continued, “You’ve really got to give this lad Des Walker of Notts Forest a go.” He was gobsmacked. You could tell he hadn’t given Des Walker a moment’s thought before. I closed saying, “We know what we’re talkin’ about round here, mate. ” He replied, “I know.” And then off he went to the Directors entrance for a cup of tea and another 90 minute Liverpool clinic. I forget which poor bastards we destroyed that night. At the time, there had been no clamour in the press for Des Walker to be introduced into the England squad. It was a closed shop of fat cockeneys playing the position at the time. But soon enough, Des Walker was called up.
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