Roger Hunt was the humble hero, a private man whose prodigious capacity for finding the net for Liverpool and England catapulted him into headlines he never chased. Hunt celebrated his first goal for Liverpool with a cup of tea. Taking train and bus to games at Anfield, he would wonder whether any of his fellow passengers would be in the crowd watching him, assessing him.
Yet he was an inveterate crowd-pleaser because of his work-rate, his ability to help his fellow attackers, especially Ian St John during a marvellous partnership at Liverpool, and in tandem with first Jimmy Greaves, then Geoff Hurst during England’s golden World Cup summer.
Hunt was not awarded an MBE until 2000, a scandalous oversight by Whitehall, yet was always cherished by Liverpool supporters as “Sir” Roger. “I never needed [a knighthood],” Hunt told the Liverpool Echo last year. “I was knighted by the Kop. That means more.”
Hunt was the people’s knight, a dream professional. He turned up, he scored, he went home. He kept winning, two titles and the FA Cup, and kept scoring so freely that he is still Liverpool’s leading scorer in the league with 244 goals in 404 games. Yet he was never one for premieres, first nights, fancy shows. He was first to the ball only on the pitch. Quiet off it, he shone on it. Hunt was the man for the big occasions, scoring in the 1965 FA Cup final and in the 1966 European Cup Winners’ Cup final. His record is remarkable. Throughout it all, he remained modest. His feet left the ground only when throwing himself towards another cross.
Even the one game Hunt was almost late for, following horrendous traffic on the East Lancs Road, he ran the last mile to make kick-off against Manchester City. He hated the idea of letting anyone down. Hunt was all about the team. Those who visited Hunt at home, and were shown into his study, report of the picture hanging in pride of place capturing Hunt celebrating Martin Peters’s goal in the World Cup final. That summed Hunt up in a way. It was never about him.
For a footballer who helped light up the Sixties, Hunt was never drawn to the limelight. He was about kith and kin, about keeping an eye on his family’s haulage business. Those who knew him best attested to a warm character but keen to keep out of the public eye. Hunt was one of the 11 members of the greatest sporting side this country has ever produced, and photogenic, yet was low-key. He never sought publicity. Maybe Hurst’s hat-trick in the final overshadowed Hunt’s hugely significant contribution across England’s six games, including three goals in the group stages. Hunt’s innate modesty played a part, too.
Two of the greatest managers of all time, Bill Shankly and Sir Alf Ramsey, appreciated his attributes. Hunt kept his place in the side even when Ramsey lessened the influence of wingers, who had always played to a strength of Hunt’s, his heading. Ramsey was aware of Hunt’s importance to the team, how he would bring the best out of others, and would consult Shankly about his No 8. Hunt’s role in England’s journey to World Cup glory was immense.
Yet even when he agreed to interviews, Hunt was invariably asked about Hurst’s controversial second goal in the final. He was four yards away, could have turned the ball in, but was convinced it had crossed the line. Watching footage back, Hunt’s intelligence of movement is highlighted in the clever way he gets in front of the West Germany defender Wolfgang Weber. German protestations that the ball did not go in — the German Football Museum in Dortmund has an interactive game called “Did it cross the line?” — were always given short shrift by Hunt. He was there, he was closest, he knew. He was just overjoyed his team-mate had scored.
He celebrated but on returning to Melwood for pre-season training a fortnight later, Hunt quickly threw himself back into Liverpool duties. Hunt was greeted by Shankly, the proud Scot, with a cheery, “Well done, son, but we’ve got better things to do now.” And Hunt responded. He had a world champion’s medal and a world-beating work ethic.
Hunt needed that industry to get his career going. As a lad, his father took him to Burnden Park to watch Nat Lofthouse, the Bolton Wanderers forward he quickly came to worship. He wrote to all the local clubs but only Bury replied to the 17-year-old. He was working for the family haulage business, and Bury were unconvinced about giving Hunt a pro contract. So he did his national service and, while playing on leave for Stockton Heath (now Warrington Town), was spotted by Bill Jones, the Liverpool scout who used to play for the club (and grandfather of Rob).
Liverpool took a look at the callow Hunt, giving him some outings in their A and B sides, but when he made the reserves, some of the pros resented an amateur taking one of their places. He struggled to keep up with the pace of the game, and was urged by Joe Fagan to improve his fitness. He listened and worked on his stamina. Even as an amateur, Hunt had a professional’s mindset.
On his full debut against Scunthorpe United at Anfield, playing because of injury to the celebrated Billy Liddell, Hunt scored, taking a pass from Jimmy Melia, and marked the occasion with a cup of tea after the match. When Shankly replaced Phil Taylor, Hunt’s career accelerated. He listened to Shankly and his brains trust of Bob Paisley, Fagan and Reuben Bennett and learnt. He worked hard and practised, and practised.
When St John arrived from Motherwell in 1961, one of the game’s top striking double acts was born. Hunt the inside right and St John the centre forward struck up an immediate understanding. For those of us who never saw Hunt play, the archives of YouTube provide a welcome guide and the six minutes of Pathé News highlights of the 1965 FA Cup final win over Leeds United showcased many of his strengths. That whole cup run captured Hunt at his goalscoring best for Liverpool: the volley past Gordon Banks of Leicester City in the quarter-finals and then his performance in the final. The Queen was at Wembley with the Duke of Edinburgh. The game was so good between two fine sides that the commentator voiced the collective hope for extra time. “Even the Duke who was due at Windsor for polo at 6pm”, he intoned. Extra time arrived and so did Hunt in style, diving in to head home Gerry Byrne’s cross.
When Liverpool returned to Lime Street with the cup for the first time, Hunt was typically modest, marvelling at the hundreds of thousands of fans who turned out to salute the team. Even when Shankly decided to rebuild the side, Hunt kept playing, joining his beloved Bolton at 31, continuing to score freely. His commitment to hard work led him to return to the family business and work on the pools panel.
In later years, Hunt took huge delight in Liverpool’s revival under Jürgen Klopp, and was deeply touched when the manager wrote to him on his 80th birthday. Hunt, by all accounts, was never one of those old pros who believed the game was better in their heyday. He was far too modest for that. He enjoyed watching the attacking likes of Harry Kane, Jamie Vardy and of course Liverpool’s electric front men like Mohamed Salah.
English football has united in mourning the passing of Hunt, but his legacy lives on, in the record books, in the marvellous footage online, in the hearts of a grateful nation which will always revere the 1966 team, and in the memory of a modest man with a phenomenal talent.
