Blog: The reluctant hero

Steve Bartram salutes perhaps the most gallant figure in United\'s history... When it comes to football lexicography, the dictionary has been diluted over time. The reliance on popular vernacular to convey a simple sport to a mainstream audience has mutated meanings, breaking them down into limp offshoots of their original gist. Take heroism, for example. Were we to believe all we read and hear within football, we would view making a goalline clearance or playing through injury as heroic. Any advance on the most basic deeds committed in the line of duty are rendered valorous, because heroes – authentic heroes validated by actual heroism – have been few and far between in football. And understandably so, because it is a game conducted within set boundaries of an entertainment business. On the rare occasions in football when life and death collide in actuality, rather than in sporting metaphors, then we see true gallantry: the selfless sacrifice of sensibility for a cause. In the long, opulent history of Manchester United, one hero stands taller than the rest: Harry Gregg. The Northern Irish goalkeeper had been a United player for under two months when, on 6 February, 1958, he and his new colleagues were aboard the Manchester-bound flight which failed to leave a Munich runway. Through Gregg’s autobiography, we can relive the horror of being aboard the ill-fated plane… \"The silence on the aircraft was punctuated by a nervous cough, then a snigger. Johnny Berry shouted: \'I don\'t know what you are laughing at, we\'re all going to get killed here\'. Liam Whelan piped up: \'Well, if this is the time, I\'m ready\'. \"As I watched out of the window, the wheels began to lift off the ground. Then bang! There was a sudden crash and debris began bombarding me on all sides. One second it was light, the next dark. \"There was no screaming, no sounds, only the terrible shearing of metal. Something cracked my skull like a hard-boiled egg. I was hit again at the front. The salty taste of blood was in my mouth. I was afraid to put my hands to my head. An eerie stillness replaced the chaos, punctuated only by the interminable sound of hissing. All around was darkness, as if it was frozen in time.\" In his reaction to the situation, Gregg ensured that it would be his deeds forever enshrined in history. He frantically sifted through the wreckage for a baby he had noticed on board and, upon hearing her cry, pulled her to safety. A courageous act in itself, yet Gregg returned to the smouldering, hissing nightmare. Repeatedly. He pulled the child’s pregnant mother to safety, hauled Bobby Charlton and Dennis Viollet loose, freed Matt Busby and then, finally, tended Jackie Blanchflower and affixed him with a tourniquet to stem the bleeding from his compatriot’s severely wounded arm. Repeated acts of self-endangerment and disregard of all survival instincts. Yet so self-effacing and humble is Gregg, that he has never fully accepted his act of valour in the ensuing half-century and more. “Notoriety has come at a price, for Munich has cast a shadow over my life which I found difficult to dispel,” he wrote, while repeatedly imploring interviewers down the years: “Remember me as a footballer and not a hero.” Gregg has been so reticent to accept acclaim, in fact, that he had no idea about his own testimonial until it had been arranged. He will be the star of the show on May 15, as United take on an Irish League XI managed by Martin O’Neill at Belfast’s Windsor Park. Sir Alex Ferguson has already confirmed that he will be taking his strongest available squad to Northern Ireland. \"He\'s a special man, no question about that,” said the United manager. “I think that anyone who knows Harry realises they\'re speaking to a really genuine man so I\'m really delighted to be bringing the team over. \"We\'ll bring out strongest team for Manchester United to honour a player who, apart from his experience of the Munich air disaster, you\'ve got to remember the career he had here. It\'s absolutely apt that we send our best squad of players.\" On its own merits, Gregg’s is a career worth celebrating. Just four months after Munich, he was selected as the outstanding goalkeeper at the 1958 World Cup, and he went on to make 247 appearances over a decade at Old Trafford – though he was dogged by misfortune at key times in his playing career. Unceremoniously barged into his own net by Nat Lofthouse for Bolton’s clinching second goal in the 1958 FA Cup final, the Ulsterman was then ruled out of the Reds’ 1963 triumph by injury, which also prohibited him from playing any part in United’s pair of First Division triumphs over the next four years. He joined Stoke City in 1967 and, though he had no medals as tangible reward for his exploits, Gregg’s place in the pantheon of United goalkeepers was assured. Harry’s skills between the sticks bore comparison with anyone of his era, but his deeds under the far greater pressure of real life elevated him beyond compare. Within a sport where words sometimes lose all meaning, he will always be the definition of a hero.