please log in to view this image http://s1084.photobucket.com/albums/j418/cuteybuns/?action=view¤t=NatLofthouse.jpg One Wednesday night in the mid-1950s, I watched Sunderland play Bolton Wanderers Early in the first half, Len Shackleton wormed his way past Boltonâs full back (whose name I canât remember, and wouldnât repeat it if I did) and was viciously hacked down. Shack got up, and took the free kick without any fuss or histrionics. Within ten minutes, he wormed his way past that same full back, and was viciously hacked down in exactly the same way. Shack fell full length but, this time, caught the ball. He got up, yelled something at the full back and threw the ball into the manâs solar plexus. His head went back, face screwed up in agony, and he fell like a stone. Shack turned away, and stood, hands on hips, gazing into the upper tiers of the stand. He knew he shouldnât have done it, but was clearly in some pain. That was the origin of the injury that, some three years later, ended Len Shackletonâs career. As all this happened, Nat Lofthouse, the Bolton captain, was standing in the centre circle. Nat ran half the width of the field, round the front of Shack, and tapped him on the side of the face with the palm of his hand. No one will ever know what was said, but it was done in a way that said âForget it mate â he bloody deserved itâ. At half-time, the whole of the main stand rose to their feet and gave Nat a standing ovation. And at full time, they did the same thing again. Both ends, of course, gave him the only honour they knew how to give â a whopping great Roker Roar. Nat Lofthouse must have played at Roker Park some four or five times after that before retiring. And I can honestly say I never saw him walk on or off that pitch without a standing ovation. The Roker crowd never forgot his gesture. He was always a much-loved character on Wearside because we knew the ferocious, utterly fearless âLion of Viennaâ in a somewhat different light â Nat Lofthouse was a gentleman through and through. Incidentally, the autograph you see here was signed for some kid after that game â me. Iâve treasured that little autograph book for nearly sixty years now, and guess I always will. The worldâs a poorer place without you Nat. God speed, mate, God speed.
