joe breezy
23-08-2013, 10:30 AM
http://theinsideleft.com/lawrie-reilly/
“GREAT PLAYERS NEVER TELL YOU WHAT THEY DID”
WORDS: LAYTH YOUSIF
Shortly before Scotland met England at Wembley this summer, one of the greatest players in the history of the rivalry passed away. Lawrie Reilly, Hibernian legend, will forever be remembered north of the border for his achievements on the pitch, but the humble hero never told the stories himself…
“Our kit was green with white sleeves. It was the only kit I wore in all the time I ever played: I was born a Hibee and I’ll die a Hibee.”
-Lawrie Reilly
What must it be like for a man to play for the team he loved deeply as a child? How must it feel to play in a stadium where you watched from the terraces as a youngster; to be revered by the very people you used to stand with, who you travelled to the ground with on the bus, the journey taking you first as a spectator, then as a player? And then to represent your country, cheered on by its passionate countrymen.
And throughout it all, as your inherent modesty forbade otherwise, your character, as much as your achievements – though they were plentiful – was such that your memory is enshrined in goodwill, love and respect, to the extent that you will be talked about with a fond reverence for as long as your football club exists.
What must that be like for a man, for his proud family, and for the supporters who take a vicarious pride in their local hero and his achievements? Even now.
The article is too long to be copy and pasted here so you need to follow the link...
http://theinsideleft.com/lawrie-reilly/
“GREAT PLAYERS NEVER TELL YOU WHAT THEY DID”
WORDS: LAYTH YOUSIF
Shortly before Scotland met England at Wembley this summer, one of the greatest players in the history of the rivalry passed away. Lawrie Reilly, Hibernian legend, will forever be remembered north of the border for his achievements on the pitch, but the humble hero never told the stories himself…
“Our kit was green with white sleeves. It was the only kit I wore in all the time I ever played: I was born a Hibee and I’ll die a Hibee.”
-Lawrie Reilly
What must it be like for a man to play for the team he loved deeply as a child? How must it feel to play in a stadium where you watched from the terraces as a youngster; to be revered by the very people you used to stand with, who you travelled to the ground with on the bus, the journey taking you first as a spectator, then as a player? And then to represent your country, cheered on by its passionate countrymen.
And throughout it all, as your inherent modesty forbade otherwise, your character, as much as your achievements – though they were plentiful – was such that your memory is enshrined in goodwill, love and respect, to the extent that you will be talked about with a fond reverence for as long as your football club exists.
What must that be like for a man, for his proud family, and for the supporters who take a vicarious pride in their local hero and his achievements? Even now.
The article is too long to be copy and pasted here so you need to follow the link...
http://theinsideleft.com/lawrie-reilly/