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The last deposit in the BANK OF ENGLAND

Back to do not sit behind the goal and cry, a splash, or as usual take of a little too much with leilighetsdikt and some general heavy – and tåkeprat, but we w

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The last deposit in the BANK OF ENGLAND

Back to do not sit behind the goal and cry, a splash, or as usual take of a little too much with leilighetsdikt and some general heavy – and tåkeprat, but we write a few words about the goalkeeper, on the largest Gordon Banks.

He was born in stålbyen Sheffield, who became the world champion with England in 1966 on home soil, where he not dropped into only one goal before a penalty by Eusebio in the semi-finals. Now he has saved on the line for the very last time.

by the Way: In the Back room takes a bit of because fog is something we associate with Gordon Banks also. Fog and Øivind Johnssen from the Victoria Ground, tippekamp on the only Norwegian fjernsynskanalen in the 1970s, the NRK.

We saw Stoke City quite so frequent. Not every weekend, but almost seemed as if. Banks played a total of 193 appearances for Stoke City. Those in red and white-suits, striped.

Banks often in the green costume that they had before, now see the goalkeepers look like clowns the whole bundle. Not The Bank's. Steady guy, loyal to the club he was bought to for 52, 000 pounds of silver. The Stoke bet. Got the world's best keeper from The Foxes. From Leicester City.

In 2005, we were outside the Victoria Ground, which was then deserted, abandoned and derelict. Wind? Yes, for sure. Sour. November. Midweek. The Victoria Ground would become a residential area.

This on the way to the two donkeys in Blackpool to look for some memories from what we think was around spring, but the only thing we might experienced then and there was a strange shadow where we believe the one the finish line was.

WOW: Gordon Banks is dead, the 81-year-old. The englishman was one of the heroes behind the world cup triumph in 1966, and is perhaps best known for the rescue at this headingen from Pele. Video: FIFA TV. Show more

Banks? His shadow? No. Grass, straw and a little maturity. But, wait a minute: Is it not the Banks over there? With a slightly twisted høyrefot, at the back? In the cage. With falkeblikk. That turns off mud, dirt, and bad mid-week matches on the one pillar of wood. V

Bank of England as he was also called. In the near of it as a time ar the Victoria Ground was a little café with a C – with the fat and the dew on the window, bad coffee and ditto pai.

We ate to be sitting for a while. In order to see. To listen. Remember. To wait to the nearest pub finally opened.

Gordon Banks, the best in his own time says a lot in the day. Agree. He was probably there also. We will remember him, many times in this text with a sørgebånd around the last cha-ching. This before the next old fotballhelt buried with the knobs first and the last.

cha-ching. For the Banks, for the mist over the town, The Potters, for a time that ar incredibly great because you were young and grew up and got live football in the living room on Saturdays.

English football and people wonder why there are a couple of generations that have dilla in English soccer, poor, it is also occasionally, but we love it.

No, maybe we stay stuck in the old days so it is pathetic. Yes, there is enough there. We put us with gray hair and wake up never in the middle of a feverish dream from the City Ground with mullets where we just played the wall with Ian Storey-Moore.

Thank you Banks, and to you too Alan Hudson, George Best, Bobby Charlton, Alan Ball, Clyde Best, Bobby Moore, Peter Storey, Charlie George, John Farmer (reservekeeper at Stoke), Pat Jennings. Alex Stepney, Ray Clemence, Frank Worthington, Stan Bowles, Francis Lee, Peter Lorimer and we can also send the white Mitre-ball down the wing, the longer wing on Liverpool, a lissepasning to Steve Heighway.

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We do such things on a wistful fotballdag as this. For Gordon Banks. For A pint of Guinness, fish & chips with vinegar, for the 11 right at the break and damn it was 7 right on the sofa the old made in leatherette.

And, while we write this we get a message from the former Stoke player, Anders Jacobsen. He is a teacher now in high school. He has headet a few balls at home and abroad before this.

He hit Banks several times, including in another legendes funeral, The Wizard of the Wing Sir Stanley Matthews (Stoke (2 times) and Blackpool):

Gordon Banks was crying from both eyes, also blind. Then it is sad, it was very sad also, writes Jacobsen that recalls a warm and pleasant man, a monument from Stoke City.

Banks who was in a serious car accident that cost him sight of one eye.

Then type the central defender Jacobsen something about the crying, and the web as the hulker in the wind. Okay. We understand.

We are several that are quite as soft in the soul. Tongue on her paw. We are the old reservekeepere as we now write far more obituaries than happy invitations, so is it with us who are born in the TV-ball era. Cha-ching again? No. Waiting.

We ask you remember that the Bank's during the world cup in 1966, played for Leicester City where there was a total of 293 matches, before this he had started up as sisteskanse (it was called it at the time) at the Chesterfield with 23 games.

Gordon Banks born 30. December 1937, the death 12. February 2019.

Banks leaves out spouse, three children, grandchildren, and plenty of klasseredninger (freely after a minneord in Akershus Arbeiderblad), among other things, the curriculum within the keeperskoler and skyggelueakademier and knebeskytteruniversiteter and worn, the wardrobes and the brown pubs and dive bars the world over, the rescue which he really no idea that he was – according to him – the one against Brazil in 1970. The world cup in Mexico.

We put almost directly over to Guadalajara. The flicker of the lines. There are preliminary rounds, group C. Date 7. June, 79 000 people on the stands (new stadionrekord).

England is tittelforsvarer. Created players pulls a bit on the years, but manager sir Alf Ramsey has klokkertro. Also against Brazil.

the Battle is in retrospect regarded as the real final, this is just nonsense of course. Brazil won 1-0, both teams on.

the Final was by the way an adventure. Brazil, the world's finest yellow and blue jerseys, won by beating Italy 4-1. Goal by Pele (17 minutes), Gershon (65), Jairzinho (70) and Carlos Alberto (83).

Bakrommets writer was in his year 13 and under to 70-the world cup and have no idea if we saw the fight live or in recording, or long afterwards, but we saw it, completely guaranteed, cross on the neck and the mother and the father in death as we also said at the time, we who grew up with soccer games and more cha-ching than the hymn verse.

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Which is held by England as another Day Solstad as we no idea who was the then – nor now really. We remember the rescue as if it should have happened a moment ago, and we see it both with our eyes closed and on the web.

English commentator of the sober variety, which explains that the ball is played out at the right edge, past Terry Cooper (good back from Leeds United), to Jairzinho who turns a post down the bow and precision out at around the 7.8 metres.

And there goes the Pele in the air. Win hodeduellen. Is it against the Bobby Moore? No. Labone or Wright or Mullery maybe?

Pele hits no matter perfect with pannebrasken. Header down. Hard. Down by the stolperota, to the right of the man in the handsome mørkblå keeperdrakt, with black lugg, white kortbukse, white stockings and ditto gloves.

He who guards the cage for England. The Three Lions. Gordon Banks. Headingen all look in the target. In Mexico, in Stoke, at Eidsvoll, in Brazil.

A scoring it maybe was danced in Rio and skålte for in the Amazon before the ball is inside. The ball that was saved on the line. We do not believe in miracles, but make an exception for Gordon Banks.

Neither you, Gordon, or others we fotballidioter, save the world, but you saved on the line. It is worth it.

< p> Gordon Banks is dead
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