Graham Kelly: King's cautionary tale of hard knocks and hard balls

The inauguration of the Hall of Fame at the National Football Museum in Preston was celebrated with an induction dinner last night, an event honouring the greatest players and managers in England.

"I could have been a contender," Marlon Brando famously said in On The Waterfront. The former Newcastle United and Port Vale goalkeeper Ray King can never remotely have come close to joining contemporaries such as Sir Tom Finney and Nat Lofthouse in the Hall of Fame, but his autobiography, *Hands, Feet & Balls is a fascinating glimpse of an almost forgotten era, and, while writing his name indelibly in Vale's history, he did indeed become a contender, from the Third Division North, for the England goalkeeper's jersey in the 1950s.

Those times are often depicted as grey, but the story of King's life leaps from the pages in glorious technicolor. A north-easterner from the little mining village of Radcliffe, he had some bitter experiences at the hands of Newcastle. Taken by his father for interview at the age of 17, the two were placed in separate rooms until the lad had committed his future to the club for a signing-on fee of £10.

The Magpies cast him on to the scrapheap after he broke his wrist saving a war-time penalty from Tommy Lawton, and, before establishing himself at Port Vale, he was deliberately kicked on the hand in training by an angry player/manager, thus causing him to lose his place for a year.

Goalkeeping was a school of hard knocks. When King came up against the notorious Cardiff City striker Trevor Ford, no quarter was asked nor given. Ford pinned King against the post with one early charge. It was as well. Otherwise, ball, keeper, and everything would have ended up in the back of the net. The next time the ball came across King collected it, and still had time to floor Ford.

That 1953-54 season was Vale's finest, and the keeper played an integral part. They romped away with the title, finishing 11 points clear of second-placed Barnsley and conceded only 21 goals. They captured the nation's imagination by reaching the FA Cup semi-final, overcoming the holders Blackpool in the fifth round, only to lose unluckily to the eventual winners West Bromwich Albion at Villa Park. Ronnie Allen, who scored the Baggies' winning goal from a hotly-disputed penalty, had practised penalties with King during long afternoons at Vale five years earlier.

Anyone enquiring among the 40,500 spectators who were present on the February day at a packed Vale Park when Port Vale relieved Blackpool of the silverware is likely to receive many different answers as to what happened. Such is the stuff of legend. Albert Leake scored two early goals for Vale and King blocked the peerless Stan Matthews, who was through one-on-one, late in the game when a goal from the visitors might have sparked a comeback.

Vale's defence kept a clean sheet, though, as they did 35 times that season. The 6ft 2in King was called up to join the England's pre-World Cup tour of 1954. He played one half of a 2-0 defeat for England B against Switzerland in Basle, in which the contrast between the robust English game and the gentler Swiss style could not have been more marked. King was never short of confidence and took many free-kicks outside his box in the manner of the modern keeper.

After leaving Port Vale he embarked on a non-League odyssey before re-entering the League as trainer/coach at Oxford United, where he came across Robert Maxwell and Ron Atkinson.

To the Vale Park faithful, King remains a hero as they prepare their 50th anniversary tributes to the greatest team in the club's history. At 78,he won't get the game out of his blood now, but sadly his tale has take on a new relevance since he first commenced the project some years ago.

Brother George, who featured unwittingly as the cause of that Vale manager's ire as an opposing striker, has died from Alzheimer's, which, Ray believes, can be linked to the cannonball footballs he used to head. The recent coroner's ruling in the Jeff Astle case has given succour to those who feel it is no coincidence that so many ex-footballers have fallen to the disease. There must surely be sufficient resources available to the game to ensure that adequate measures are taken to alleviate the suffering.

If the old water-sodden ball could break Ray King's wrist, what must it have done to his brother's head? Another King, John Charles, was at last night's glittering dinner. He is in what they call the middle stages of the cruel disease, although his wife, Glenda, is not yet sure about any connection between that and his heading prowess.

*Rex Publications (£6.99+£2pp)

grahamkelly@btinternet.com