TONY’S FAREWELL… A FINE TIME…

We went to Tony Gubba’s funeral today. It was very lovely to be invited. Thank you Jenny. St Andrew’s Church in Sonning the venue – a more English Church with a more English setting is hard to imagine, it was beautiful.

We arrived early, as you do when you have a distance to go, and so got seats where we could see and hear very well what was going on. One hundred people were thought to have been coming – 150 turned up… The church was packed. The service was a fitting tribute to the man with Jon Motson kicking off and just making it through to the end of his insightful and entertaining journey into some escapades he and Tony embarked upon. Tears came after the referee blew the whistle.

Safari

Claire and Libby (Tony’s beautiful daughters did a tremendous job of telling of Tony’s life as it had been with them. Their story of walking across a football pitch somewhere following their father to his commentary position accompanied by ‘THERE’S ONLY ONE TONY GUBBA!” resounding from the assembled throng was inspiring. As they recounted how the crowd (I assume mostly chaps) changed their focus onto the ladies following Tony apparently their chants took on a more personal nature? JUST KEEP GOING… being Tony’s command to his daughters. I just hope it wasn’t at United that that happened. I seem to remember being at a game where we did shout – THERE’S ONLY ONE TONY GUBBA!!!

Barry Davies doing a double act with John Motson had us all wondering if his script for John 14v1-6 would turn up. Mottie had inadvertently swiped Barry’s words with his papers as he finished up. As a last resort I think Rev Jamie Taylor who did a brilliant job presiding and is the Vicar of St Andrews’s would have provided a bible for Barry. Barry, as I ever remember him, completely unfazed as the search for the missing document was underway.

Bob Ballantyne read ‘He is Gone’ by David Harkins – which was very apt.

The music started with Immortal invisible God only Wise,  Lord of all Hopefulness and finished with Land of Hope and Glory sung with gusto by the congregation of the packed church.

Tony himself was present, well of course he was present but more than that he sang ‘Portrait of my Love’ originally by Matt Munro in 1960. Funny thing is I hadn’t quite caught on it was tony and thought what a strong and distinctive voice Matt Munro had – but it was Tony singing! He could have had another career on the side.

I was very good to see friends from the past and present, to pay our respects and try to be a support to Jenny in particular and the girls too by being there. Memories of Tony’s times from different folk opened up my eyes more to the scope of the man’s life. A man who started in Moss Side in Manchester and lived life to the full as a successful broadcaster father and partner in life. An inspiration.

A man who thought – You can do anything, did that, and inspired his daughters to do the same. I hear you say that Tony Gubba…

There was indeed much love from friends and coleagues and for the man who brought us all together and we shared some time with. A toast of whiskey to Tony and I had a couple of tarlet’s before I left. I never took Tony up on his offer of hospitality – Come for dinner – I never realised he was such a good cook… but I drank his health and enjoyed his hospitality today.Golden private moments for me with Christiane at the reception after included: from Jim Rosenthall “You were in the most corrupt sport I’ve ever seen…” To Barry Davies’s quip “You haven’t gone yet, you see how much you’re loved…”

Thought for the day – YOU CAN DO ANYTHING – a mantra Tony Gubba lived by and passed on – a man who left school with one O Level and no idea what he would do who ended up being loved as a national sporting treasure.

Amen to that.

Love N

 

  • tease-and-stocking

  • tease-and-denial


  • sissification

  • my-princess-goddess

  • mesmerize

  • jerkoff-instruction


  • humiliation

  • handjob


  • foot-fetish

  • female-domination

  • dirty-talk

  • cum-eating-instruction

  • chastity

  • ass-worship