Farewell to a boyhood hero, a diamond of northeast football | OneFootball

When a hero from my youth dies, something is lost. Such a hero was Alan Shoulder, formerly of Newcastle United, Blyth Spartans and so many other northeast football clubs, who passed away today.

I’m reminded of a line from the metaphysical poet John Donne, a line that didn’t make much sense to me 50-odd years ago, but which now seems profound.

“Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.”

There are, admittedly, some men whose death would certainly not diminish me. I would happily dance on their graves.

Forget them, they couldn’t hold a light to Shoulder, who even in the 1970s seemed capable of exploits that were seemingly from a different, distant era.

His name is indelibly etched into the history of the Spartans, whose run to the fifth round of the FA Cup in the 1977-78 season was halted by an incompetent official as much as by their opponents. Shoulder was a latecomer to that unforgettable campaign, having been signed from Bishop Auckland after Blyth had battled through the four qualifying rounds of the venerable competition.

Indeed, he didn’t make his FA Cup bow for the Spartans until their 3rd round tie at home to Enfield in early January, when typically, he scored the only goal of the game.

That goal was in microcosm the story of Shoulder, a part-time footballer until his mid-20s while he worked as a pit deputy at Horden Colliery. Just as he arrived late to Blyth’s party and within a year to life as a full-time professional with United, he would burst onto a loose ball in the box and smash in another goal.

He had a low centre of gravity, twisting and turning his 5ft 5in frame to great effect, often benefiting from knockdowns by a strike partner who would go on to win a European Cup winner’s medal when that competition was a straight knockout.

Writing this now, what Alan Shoulder and Peter Withe achieved is scarcely credible. At United they were among the most effective Little and Large partnerships the club has seen, albeit they played together in the old Second Division.

They would never have combined, however, without Blyth’s epic FA Cup run, which put more than one of their players in the shop window. After Shoulder’s winner at Croft Park against Enfield, Blyth were drawn to play Stoke City away. While Stoke were then in Division Two, they could boast several household names, including Alec Lindsay (an England international who had won the Football League championship, the Uefa Cup and the FA Cup with Liverpool), Terry Conroy (League Cup winner in 1972) and Howard Kendall, a midfield great from the Everton team that won the league title in 1970. They also fielded a teenage Garth Crooks. Whatever happened to him?

Blyth’s fairytale looked over when Stoke went 2-1 up. In those days, BBC radio was normally the only way to follow matches live. I was listening to Radio Two’s commentary and recall it was pretty dismissive of the underdogs’ chances. They bit back not once but twice, pulling off a legendary 3-2 win with two goals from Terry Johnson and one from Steve Carney, who would also go on to have a creditable career with United. I was screaming with joy at the transistor when the winner hit the net.

Here’s a good pub quiz question: only one match at St James’ Park in the 77-78 season was a sell-out. Who was playing?

Well, not United, who were stumbling towards relegation from the top flight. The match was Blyth Spartans v Wrexham in a fifth-round replay. If there was any justice in the world, it would never have taken place.

Blyth, yet again drawn away, were leading 1-0 at the Racecourse Ground on a stormy night with seconds remaining. Wrexham, who had already beaten United, were wrongly awarded a corner. Dave Clarke, Blyth’s keeper, punched away the first kick. He caught the second. Blyth were all but through to the quarter-finals and a home tie against Arsenal. Time for Alf Grey, a referee with no sense of fair play and little knowledge of the rules, to intervene again. The corner flag pole was bending so much in the wind that Les Cartwright pushed it over to prevent his kick being impeded. Grey insisted the kick be retaken, even though the Stoke player had broken the rules. Inevitably, it was headed home to force the replay.

The St James’ Park attendance was given as 42,157. That was almost certainly lower than the reality. Thousands more were locked out.

I was there, having convinced Newcastle United I was worthy of a place in the old wooden press box that overlooked the pitch at the top of the west stand. My dubious claim was that, as a junior reporter for the Whitley Bay Guardian Seaside Chronicle who had covered Blyth’s run, I deserved to be there. When you’re an arrogant 18-year-old, the world is your oyster…

So there I was, sitting alongside some of Fleet Street’s finest, patiently explaining to them that Steve Carney had a brother called Rob Carney who was also playing that night. Please don’t confuse them, just because you haven’t bothered to do your research.

Also featuring that night was Mr Grey, who made a series of errors that allowed Wrexham to win 2-1. He added insult to injury by awarding Wrexham a dubious penalty, ignoring a blatant foul on Shoulder when he was clean through and missing a handball that prevented a Blyth goal.

It was the 11th and last game of Blyth’s run. I got home, tried to write something original and came up with a line that has stood the test of time: “We will not see the like of this again.” Yes, there have been big shocks, remarkable campaigns and a load of headline-grabbing achievements in the intervening years but I would still argue that the Spartans remain unbeaten in the annals of FA Cup heroes.

By December of 1978 the pit deputy had joined United. He played professional football for 10 years, scoring 38 goals for the black-and-whites in 117 games before joining Carlisle and Hartlepool. An eye injury ended his full-time career but he continued to play back where it all started, on the northeast non-League circuit. At 47 he was sent off for arguing with a referee. No, it wasn’t Mr Grey!

Alan Shoulder finally hung up his boots at the remarkable age of 53, having also managed half-a-dozen clubs.

He was literally a larger-than-life footballer, one whose feats for Blyth Spartans, Newcastle United and the world of northeast football deserve to be honoured at St James’ Park this Wednesday.