Football in the 1950s was a far cry from the game that we are familiar with today. For many, Saturday morning meant putting in a shift at work, with the sound of the 12 o’clock hooters signalling a mad dash for the exit, an even quicker bite to eat and then off to the match. Stadiums were spartan, with little covered accommodation and terracing packed with swaying bodies eager to see the heroes of that period.

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Football in the 1950s was a far cry from the game that we are familiar with today. For many, Saturday morning meant putting in a shift at work, with the sound of the 12 o’clock hooters signalling a mad dash for the exit, an even quicker bite to eat and then off to the match. Stadiums were spartan, with little covered accommodation and terracing packed with swaying bodies eager to see the heroes of that period.

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While researching this weeks’ book review I happened to come across this article written on the 50th anniversary of Munich. It tells the story of a son who never knew his father because Manchester United skipper Roger Byrne lost his life in that tragedy, just days before his widow Joy discovered she was pregnant with their first child. It gave an opportunity for Roger Junior to recount his memories of growing up in those difficult times. Although this is a three year old article written in February 1958 for the Daily Mirror by journalist Julie McCaffrey, it loses none of the touching emotions experienced by the Byrne close knit family during those dark days.

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