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RIP Hugh McIlvanney
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When I was a kid I'd try and grab the Observer first every Sunday to read two things above all else: Clive James' TV reviews, and Hugh McIlvanney on sport. If Dad got hold of the paper first it was going to be a long morning, waiting while he read it on the bog.
Perhaps the best general sports writer of his generation (and he spanned several). RIP.
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Fantastic writer. His contemporary accounts of the 1966 and 1970 World Cups are easily the best of their kind ever written - I wholeheartedly recommend scouring abebooks.com for copies of both if you don't have them.
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Originally posted by tee rex View PostWhen I was a kid I'd try and grab the Observer first every Sunday to read two things above all else: Clive James' TV reviews, and Hugh McIlvanney on sport. If Dad got hold of the paper first it was going to be a long morning, waiting while he read it on the bog.
Didn't it come in various sections, though, or was that a more modern development? If the former, then your pa was really being pretty mean, if you don't mind my saying say.
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Nice H Mc story from Clive Whittingham
"Back in the Italia 90 World Cup a group of the more senior, grizzled sports journalists on the circuit hatched a plan to get from a game in Milan’s San Siro Stadium one evening down to Rome’s Stadio Olympico for another the following day by hiring a car and sharing the driving through the night. As they were loading up after the final whistle, Sheffield Wednesday manager Howard Wilkinson came haring across the car park looking for a lift. He was there scouting for Bobby Robson’s England set up, famously reporting back that Cameroon were “rubbish” before the African side gave the Three Lions the fright of their lives in the knockout.
Begrudgingly, he was allowed to take the spare seat in the car but as the journey began it became clear that while the hacks saw the trip as a chance to catch up on some sleep, he saw an opportunity to make it clear just how much more he knew about football than them and set sail on long, drawn out, tactical breakdown of what teams were doing at the World Cup. This was stomached for a small while before Hugh McIllvanney, without opening his eyes, asked: “Howard, if you know so much about football, why are your Sheffield Wednesday team so dreadful to watch?” Another prolonged reply came forth, basically saying that if Sheff Wed had the use of Ruud Gullit, Franz Beckenbauer, Roberto Baggio and others then they wouldn’t play football in the style they did. McIlvanney came back on this without missing a beat, saying: “Howard, if Ruud Gullit, Franz Beckenbauer and Roberto Baggio were playing for Sheffield Wednesday, you wouldn’t be the fucking manager.” They slept in peace for the rest of the trip."
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Kevin Mitchell in the Guardian
"Allied to his great style was McIlvanney’s huge admiration for the characters of sport, and he never lost faith in his heroes, however flawed. Nobody gave George Best more rope. And Ali stood tallest for him, even when palsied after a boxing career that lingered too long. There was no doubt in McIlvanney’s mind that Muhammad (as he insisted on calling him) was The Greatest, as a human being and an athlete.
“His boxing was totally idiosyncratic,” he said, “and technically at a level much lower than that of Sugar Ray Robinson. Muhammad was in a sense the eternal amateur, but he was God’s amateur, because the will was so magical, the imagination so magical, that he found a way to beat people.”
It was the perfect metaphor for McIlvanney’s career: the raw yet refined genius from the north who invariably finished in front, sometimes despite himself. His writing – his reporting, as he would have it – was a triumph of the imagination.
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