It was with deep regret I heard the sad news about 'Tricky' Trevor Francis. I have known Trevor for over 30 years. Of course, he will be remembered as an exceptional footballer, whose highlights included representing his country 52 times and scoring a European Cup final winner for Nottingham Forest.
Apart from his electric pace and flashes of genius that I witnessed from the terraces of Portman Road in the 70’s and 80’s, I first met Trevor in 1991. Sky Sports had asked him to co-commentate at an England international game at Wembley. His chauffeur had not arrived at Sky HQ, and I offered to take him. Approximately 12 years since becoming England’s first Million Pound transfer, he was heading for a fall from grace as my Escort Mark 4 navigated through the back roads of West London, attempting to deliver him in one piece.
There were building materials on the back seat of the car, clothes strewn on the floor, empty crisp packets, chocolate bars and soft drink bottles in the foot well, the upholstery in the car stank of cigarette smoke and every time I took a sharp corner a puff of ash from the overflowing butt trays, would find their way, settling on his lap. Sociable, grateful, and non-judgemental to my chaotic lifestyle choices, we got to the twin towers just in the nick of time. Much like he did in Munich in 1979, arriving late to score against Malmo to win European Cup for Nottingham Forest.
Later, In the mid 1990’s, when Trevor was managing Sheffield Wednesday, I tried to contact him with a media request. He ignored it. By the early 2003 when his managerial opportunities had dried up somewhat, I contacted Trevor to ask if he would like to be part of Sky’s in augural Champions League TV coverage, which he agreed. I reminded him of my request years before and how it was ironic that out of work Premier League Managers suddenly now wanting to be best friends with Sky. This was not a personal attack; it was my observation ( He was not the only manager who behaved in such a fashion!). Trevor acknowledged this and I tried to get him to understand that now he was part of the media, how important access and collaboration was. From this point our relationship blossomed and respect for each other grew. Trevor was a real gentlemen, a man of true class.
During this period, Trevor, Graeme Souness, Andy Gray and Ray Wilkins offered great insight to our programming at Sky Sports. Whether they were in the studio as guests, individually or collectively, they offered a broad wealth of knowledge and experience. They were all good friends but never frightened to challenge each other’s forthright opinions or judgements.
Often Trevor and I would have dinner together before a live programme at the Sky canteen or sometimes in less life-threatening establishments when we were travelling around the country to various games. He loved a glass of red wine over dinner and during these excursions, we had time for real life conversations, when he became Trevor the dad, Trevor the son and Trevor the friend.
Apart from his obvious affection all things football, he was unconditionally devoted to his wife Helen, (She had been ill a long time before she passed away in 2017, which he struggled to come to terms with). He would also talk about his two sons but the thing that really connected us was Trevor’s passion for music. If it originated in Birmingham during the 1970’s, even better. He loved Ozzy, rocked with Sabbath, had countless backstage stories with Gillan, Geezer Butler, Tony Iommie, Jeff Lynne, Bev Bevan and Roy Wood. I would often get a call from him telling me that if I wanted some VIP passes for Paul Carrick’s up and coming gig at the Regent in Ipswich just to let him know. I never took Trevor up on his countless acts of generosity…. but he was a very kind man, to many and incredibly thoughtful.
On TV he could come across quite straight and serious with his pseudo posh West Country accent but equally had a great sense of humour, often sharp witted when required to punctuate his point. He could also take a teasing. Sometimes it was in relation to his hair, often his dress sense and in particular the types of jackets he wore on screen. I’m not one to comment on fashion but when teased by his colleagues he would often tell us of the expensive Italian designer gear that he had in his wardrobe. Often the response would be “its no good in your wardrobe Trev ! “
I’ve been privileged to work with many of my childhood sporting heroes. However, I do find it personally tough when you have enjoyed these great relationships and suddenly you hear the sad news that was delivered on Monday. To have watched him on TV in his prime creating sporting memories and additionally been fortunate enough to spend this time with him on a more personal and professional basis, makes it really hard not to be affected by this tragic news.
But I want to leave you with this final thought in relation to Trevor and it comes from a lifelong dear friend. Tony Treacy and I grew up together in the early 1970’s in Queensway in Great Cornard and he only recalled the following story to me in April.
In late 1984, Tony, by then a Falkands war veteran, was with the Marines and had just arrived in the port of Genoa in Italy on HMS Brazen. Most of the crew had gone ashore and one of them decided to head to Sampdoria’s ground, leaving gifts with club officials for Trevor and Graeme Souness who were now playing in Serie A.
The pair had just returned from international duty and were nowhere to be seen. News eventually spread around the club of the gesture and before you knew it, Trevor and Graeme were on their way to the port by taxi. On meeting the remaining company on the ship, they distributed shirts, boots and souvenirs. Tony was one of the few left, manning the decks to enjoy this impromptu visit. As the pair enjoyed forces hospitality, they shared footballing stories and tales. The troop never forgot this meeting and the generosity of the two players, it meant so much to them at the time.
It would not have gone unnoticed that Trevor, who was born in Plymouth and would have been proud of his home cities historic connection to the forces. I found it quite surreal on hearing Tonys’ account of how that day unfolded and how together in two very different environments, we could share such lovely stories of a world class footballer who amongst the millions and media attention, just happened to be a very decent and sincere guy, and one that will be sorely missed by his family and friends.
Trevor, you did your country proud and in particular made two young lads from the same street in the “Nard’, very proud. RIP Trevor.
Picture courtesy of Tony Treacy
Memory added on July 25, 2023
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