Farewell, 'Twiggy'

I can remember where I was and what I was doing when I first saw Gordon West.

Walking home from school one night at the age of 6 or 7, my dad pointed to what looked to be a giant across the road and said: “That’s Gordon West, he used to play for us.”

He explained to me just how good he was and how it took over ten years to properly replace him in the Everton goal until a certain Neville Southall made that position his own. As the man himself said: “I was the best Everton keeper in black and white, Neville was the best in colour.”

I then saw him frequently entering or leaving his home, before meeting him one day in a local shop, this time with my mum in tow. Now, my dad had big hands, but his were absolutely huge! Mine were swallowed up in his warm greeting.

I recalled the event with great pride to my dad, who recounted the story of an occasion when he attended a schoolboy match in which West was the guest of honour.

One by one, the youngsters came up to him to receive their medals and receive the patented West handshake. One young wag refused to shake his hand. ‘Westy’ asked why and when the scamp explained that he supported Liverpool and therefore wouldn’t shake the hand of an ex-Everton keeper, he grabbed him by the jersey and sat him on the crossbar.

Within ten seconds the young Kopite was begging for mercy and readily shook his hand after he’d been placed back on terra firma.

My dad also explained that our three legendary goalkeepers have shared a special bond with a particular central defender, someone with whom the understanding was almost telepathic. With Ted Sagar it was T G Jones, with Southall it was Ratcliffe and with West it was Labone.

No Evertonian’s story of Gordon West can be complete without a mention of his relationship with Labby.

The odd couple, a kind of Statler and Waldorf meets Darby and Joan, had a remarkable bond. The banter between them could be cutting, but it was always delivered with a smile and a wink – and no offence could ever be taken. They’d seen each other at their brightest moments and in their darkest hours and no amount of ‘Twiggy’ references from Labby could cause West to get riled.

I went round to visit him a few days after Labby died on 24 April 2006, the day of Gordon’s 63rd birthday. He told me that he’d heard the news – and then his cards popped through the letterbox. The first one he opened, naturally, was from the man he called ‘his best mate.’

Yet, where many people would have gone back into their shell to avoid painful memories, he continued to help push the cause of the Everton Former Players‘ Foundation which he credited as the organisation which gave him a new lease of life.

"Once I left Everton, I was finished," he told me in an interview. "I didn’t have the money, and I had to finish work due to ill health because of my knees. Then the Foundation came in. They came to my house, I hadn’t been working for a few years and to be honest, I was at rock bottom and quite a bitter person. I didn’t have heat in the house – they sorted it, they sorted my knee, teeth, everything. I’m a changed man and really enjoying life now. The get-togethers with the players are absolutely great. I hadn’t seen some of them for 30 years.”

Those who watched the infamous Golden Vision documentary know that he admitted to feeling sick before matches. He also felt hugely uncomfortable about public speaking, but wouldn’t dare dream of letting the Foundation down – and took every opportunity of lauding their important work.

No-one who saw West play or speak would have guessed his state of inner anguish. He could command the attention a room full of well-oiled Evertonians, just as well as he could command his penalty box.

But it wasn’t as a raconteur that I will remember him most fondly for. It was for his care, his humility. He was a gentle giant of a man who I will genuinely miss. It is to my deep regret and shame that I didn’t know he was suffering so badly. The last time we spoke he was concerned about his diabetes, but I knew nothing of the cancers which affected his final days.

I heard the sad news yesterday while watching Euro2012. Eight years ago, Labby and Westy together with Derek Mountfield were the panel of experts for the big screenings of England games in the Legends Bar of the Park End. Those evenings watching Wayne Rooney in explosive form were some of my best memories of my time working for Everton.

One those evenings, I gained a sense of Westy the patriot. He loved his country and gained genuine pride as being introduced as ‘a former Everton and England No1.’ If you were fortunate to visit his house you would have seen further evidence with his memorabilia of the Royal Family on prominent display.

As England prepare to face France tonight in another European Championship, spare a thought for Westy, now reunited with his very best friend. May they both rest in peace.

Editor’s Note: Martin’s email was trapped by our spam filter, hence the delayed publication.

Reader Comments (2)

Note: the following content is not moderated or vetted by the site owners at the time of submission. Comments are the responsibility of the poster. Disclaimer

About these ads