‘Sir’
Les Mutrie was a man who brought joy to City supporters when it was in very
short supply…
When
news broke earlier this week of the sad passing of Les Mutrie at the
ridiculously young age of 66, it hit me a lot harder than I’d ever imagined.
I’m one of these people who doesn’t tend to go overboard on “celebrity”
mourning in the way that appears to have been a British trait since the death
of Diana. But news of the loss of ‘Sir' Les was different.
What
really brought it home was a picture that accompanied the Newcastle Chronicle’s
tribute to this native of the north-east. It showed Les scoring –
I believe – one of his four goals against Hartlepool in February 1982. It was
the Tigers’ last game before they became the first club to call in the official
receiver.
What
struck me most about the picture – besides the aesthetic beauty of a City
goal-scoring machine in full flow - was the backdrop showing a
sparsely-populated Best Stand and Well at Boothferry Park. Although the
attendance for that ‘Pools game has since been quoted as 3040, I remain
convinced that there were at least forty-one fewer spectators in the ground
that day. Certainly, in the unexpected “boom” weeks that followed the arrival
of the Receivers, during which City’s attendances topped the six-thousand mark,
many of us took perverse satisfaction in saying that we’d been there when there
were less than half that number inside.
And
that’s the reason why the news this week came as such a hammer blow. Les Mutrie
was a man who put a smile on the faces of City fans when we had very little
else to feel good about. There have been/will be better tributes posted about
the man and indeed Hull City Southern Supporters Club, Amber Nectar and the HullDaily Mail have already produced some. For my part, I wanted to put ‘Sir’ Les
into the context of what it was like to be a City fan at the time. His
goal-scoring feats form a large part of my earliest memories of regularly
watching City home and away. He was there at easily my lowest point during that
time and was then instrumental in helping bring about one of my first real
highs.
Here’s
how I describe that particular period in my forthcoming (though don’t know
when) er, book…
20 February 1982Hull City 5 Hartlepool
United 2
Boothferry Park: East Stand terrace - no ticket; Programme
30p
While
Simon Gray’s coaches ensured me and my mates were together door-to-door, the
logistics operation for Saturday home games was slightly more fragmented but
usually involved meeting up at Hull Station. Having alighted the Connor &
Graham bus at Baker Street
just before two o’clock, I’d meet Dave,
Col and Doug off the No.76 EYMS
from Withernsea. As their bus was in at ten past the hour, I’d stand near the old
blue tuck-shop hut and watch the world go by (or, more precisely, check for any
sign of trouble across at The Green Gingerman, the nearest hostelry for fans
arriving by train). We’d then take the stroll through the Station and along
Anlaby Road, during which we’d linger a few minutes at the top of the flyover
and watch the rugby union action at The Circle (or even the cricket depending
on the time of year). If Hull FC happened to be at home, we might be treated to
the sight of those bedecked in black and white making their way to The
Boulevard. In fact, the crowd could often be heard should the “egg-chasers”
have kicked off earlier. Post-match we’d look to catch one of the numerous
Station-bound double-deckers parked outside the ground. Otherwise we’d retrace
our steps back along Anlaby Road, a walk that would leave me with just enough
time to pick up the Green Mail from
the dishevelled-looking vendor stood in Debenhams doorway before boarding my
bus home. The interaction between him and his geriatric ‘runner’ Wally (whose
speed in delivering the freshly-printed paper from the Hull Daily Mail offices hardly merited the term ‘hot off the
press’) was often hugely entertaining if far from complimentary. It all added
to what was an enjoyable matchday experience. Unfortunately, it was an
experience that was about to come under serious threat.
The
draw at Bramall Lane had extended City’s unbeaten run to six games but by the
time Hartlepool arrived in Hull, things had taken a turn for the worse. First
up was an ‘awful’[i]
home defeat by Northampton in which the only light relief came via a letter in
the day’s match programme. Its content was full of praise for one of the coach
drivers to the Sheffield match and in
particular his actions after a brick had been thrown through the back window.
But it was the “P.S.” that caused much mirth among our little group when we
spotted it:
“There was one other thing that
spoilt a good game for me, that was the chanting some of ours did about Keith
Edwards wife. I was never one of his ardent supporters but I felt a lot of the
remarks were uncalled for.”In
his reply, General Manager Gordon Dimbleby urged: “The sooner the laws of the
land are amended to those of the 30’s the sooner the louts can be given the
punishment they so richly deserve.” I’m fairly sure by this he was referring to
those responsible for the brick-throwing and not those who sang about ‘Chalky’
and Mrs Edwards!
After
defeat by The Cobblers, Mike Smith bemoaned missed opportunities and Billy Whitehurst’s
sending off in the three-nil midweek reverse at Peterborough. He also rued
City’s apparent inability to “cope with the physical challenges” of the Posh
game and at Tranmere, where City drew two-all the following Saturday. Despite
“having a hamstring strain”[ii],
Les Mutrie scored both the goals at Prenton Park. He went two better as a Hartlepool
team featuring future Tigers boss Phil Brown were thumped 5-2. It was City’s
highest League score for nine years and would be labelled “Mutrie’s Massacre”.
The goals took the Geordie’s tally to 18 for the season, enough to earn him an
interview on Sunday’s ITV highlights show and setting him well on the way to creating
a club record of scoring in nine successive League games. He was the club’s
biggest good news story. Indeed he was the only good news story.
Unfortunately,
Sir Les’s headline feat was soon eclipsed by a much bigger story enveloping the
club. The Tigers were losing £9,000 a week. With one of the best City performances
of the season having been reportedly watched by only 2,825 spectators, bringing
in receipts of just £1,700 it was the final nail in the coffin. Five days
later, on Thursday 25 February 1982, with Christopher Needler taking advice to
withdraw his funding, Hull City became the first club in the country to call in
the official receiver. The statement issued by the club read:“Mr Needler, who has supported the
club over the past years to the extent of some £325,000 with further bank
guarantees of £225,000, has been advised that he should not, in all the
circumstances, continue funding the club.”
In
other words Hull City had simply run out of cash.
The
four goals against Hartlepool form one of my three magical memories of watching
‘Sir’ Les in black and amber. The other two come courtesy of superb individual
goals, both scored in the month of October a year apart.
The
first came in 1982 on a Friday night at The Old Showground in Scunthorpe, when
Les’s late strike ended the home side’s best ever start to a season (nine
matches unbeaten). Their manager John Duncan was a man who I and many City fans
would come to love to hate, basically because it was hard to recall him ever
having a good word to say about his team’s rivals from north of the Humber.
There were over seven thousand in the ground that night and it was the large
visiting contingent at the Donny Road End who were to leave the happier; Mutrie
picking up a pass late in the game before skipping his way through the Scunts’
defence and slotting home at our end. The fact he scored this goal in that
brilliant white away shirt capped things off perfectly.
The
other standout goal for me came almost exactly a year later and formed part of
a wonderful win over one of our nearest and dearest, Sheffield United. City won
4-1 and Mutrie’s effort topped things off, as described in fanzine ‘On Cloud Seven’:
“It was Mutrie who put the icing on an
already very tasty cake, by waltzing (watch him go!) from near the corner flag
at the now neglected South East corner into the middle of the penalty area
before stroking the fourth goal past the bemused Keith Waugh.”
Wonderful stuff.
Whilst
compiling this piece, I’ve remembered another Mutrie moment that brings a smile
to my face; it came via a night game at Rochdale in April 1982, a game settled
by ‘Sir’ Les netting the only goal. He celebrated by swinging on
the inside of the goal-net in front of the two-hundred or so of us who’d
travelled across. It was one of those special moments of ultimate connection between player and supporters. Sir Les was responsible for plenty of those.
Over
the past few days I’ve read and heard many a post from City supporters of that
era, some humorous, some very touching and all displaying the complete
affection we had for the man.
RIP Sir Les.
Pictures courtesy of Hull Daily Mail, Newcastle Chronicle & Col U Day By Day
[i]
From Mike Smith’s programme notes (v
Hartlepool,
20/02/1982)
My antipathy to rugby league changed in 1988. It was
then that I decided to add watching Rovers to my weekend sporting itinerary.
Admittedly, the first time – another Hull derby fixture - was purely by chance.
The main
reason for attending the “One True Derby” in rugby league that Sunday at New
Year was simply in order to reciprocate my mate Darren’s rare excursion to
Boothferry to support City against Leeds earlier that same day. It was an
agreement that had probably been hatched over a pint or two and was one that I
was particularly looking forward to. The continued snipes from those of a black
and white persuasion, coupled with my increased time spent in the company of
Rovers fans had had the desired effect; as such I could genuinely celebrate Garry
Clark’s match-winning try in the far corner from where we stood. Mike Fletcher
converted and added another two goals, with Wayne Parker dropping a
one-pointer. Gary Pearce’s penalty constituted Hull’s sole reply to leave the
majority of the 8,186 crowd disappointed and the home side in the relegation
zone. For those like us travelling back eastwards across the river, the 11-2
win and Rovers’ elevation to 7th capped an excellent day (City had earlier
beaten Leeds 3-1). It marked the beginning, albeit tentatively, of another
sporting love affair, although little did I realise that I’d already witnessed
the high point of the next two years!
