I walked past Billy Bragg’s house the other day. At least, I’d been told that it belonged to Billy. It’s a rather imperious looking house perched on the top of the cliff just outside Bridport. The coastal path is regularly being moved back from the cliff edge as more of it crumbles into the sea, so in a few year’s time you’ll be able to walk though Billy’s kitchen. Then we’ll know for sure.
I’ve been a fan of the ‘Big Nosed Boy from Barking’ since he first came on the scene in the early 80’s. He used to have a kind of electric one-man-band thing going on; a small amp strapped to his shoulder, pedal by his foot, harmonica on one of those mouthpieces that looks like an orthodontic headbrace. His singing was raw, but his songs were funny, punchy, political. If I’m honest, I liked him a bit more than I liked his music, but that’s no bad thing, is it? Lyrically, he always reminded me of one of those footballers who could slot away a volley with lazy precision or deliver the perfect corner every time. Words just seemed to come easier to him. So, I suppose there’s an enjoyable irony that (arguably) his best song is called ‘God’s Footballer’.
The song is loosely based on the story of Peter Knowles, the brilliantly talented forward who found himself stuck in a decidedly average Wolves team at the end of the sixties. Despite the team yo-yoing between the first and second divisions, he established himself as an impressive goalscorer and earned a call up to the England under-23 squad. There was even talk of him being selected for the full squad, with the World Cup in Mexico approaching fast. Then, at the age of just 24, mid-season, he suddenly retired. He’d become a Jehovah’s Witness and, in his own words, he’d just ‘lost his ambition’ as a footballer.
Incredibly, Wolves kept him on contract for the next twelve years, hoping against the odds that Knowles might change his mind and come back to football. He never did. He worked as a window cleaner, a milkman and in the Wolverhampton Marks and Spencer’s warehouse. Apparently, he never regretted his decision.
He joins those interesting ranks of men and women who put religion ahead of sport. Eric Liddell with his refusal to run on a Sunday in the 1924 Paris Olympics saw him switch from 100m to the 400m (which he won in glorious Vangelis soundtracked slo-mo in Chariots of Fire). Or the Israeli marathon runner, Beatie Deutsch, who won’t run on Shabbat. Intriguingly, we have an England football team now where several of the players – Saka, Rashford, Guehi and Toney – are all proud Christians.
Anyway, I’ll leave you with Billy’s song, turning lyrically on a sixpence.
God's footballer hears the voices of angels
Above the choir at Molineux
God's footballer stands on the doorstep
And brings the good news of the kingdom to come
While the crowd sings 'rock of ages'
The goals bring weekly wages
Yet the glory of the sports pages
Is but the worship of false idols and tempts him not
God's footballer turns on a sixpence
And brings the great crowd to their feet in praise of him
God's footballer quotes from the gospels
While knocking on doors in black country back streets
He scores goals on a Saturday
And saves souls on a Sunday
For the lord says these are the last days
Prepare thyself for the judgment yet to come
His career will be over soon
And the rituals of a Saturday afternoon
Bid him a reluctant farewell
For he knows beyond the sport lies the spiritual
