The players loved him. He got the job done. His finishing was deadly. He
didn't exactly put himself about to win the ball back and we did more than our
share of running for him – but just when we were giving him a bollocking, he'd
seize half a chance and, bang, it was in the back of the net. I've never seen
anyone finish like him. Bloody brilliant. And he was a strong bastard who
could hold the ball up in any situation and return it perfectly.
We stuck together. In most away games, taking Eric down a peg or two
seemed to be objective No1 for the opposition hard men and the extra effort
made by players from clubs like Norwich, Swindon, Crystal Palace, Oldham
and Wimbledon usually led to trouble.
"They're f****** crazy, Roy," Eric would complain. Yet confronted by tackles
that were high, late and, yes, crazy our only option was to meet fire with fire.
Roy gives his perspective on the night at Selhurst Park when Eric decked a
racist.
That night at Selhurst Park Eric got involved with his marker, Richard Shaw.
Eric lost it and kicked Shaw. Off. Suddenly there was a commotion on the far
touchline — something had happened but we didn't know what. It turned out
some looper had had a go at Eric near the tunnel. Bruce Lee would have
been proud of his kung fu kick, although he could have hurt himself quite
badly, broken his back.