By Ian Grant
Sad to hear about the death of Joe Baker, 62, at a celebrity golf tournament in Lanark.
Joe played centre forward for Arsenal in the early sixties, and from memory was around 5.7, but punched above his weight. He was a fantastic header of a ball – in the tradition of Radford, Kennedy, Stapleton and Alan Smith after him. He was a dynamic, physical player with good close control. Joe is in Highbury folklore for punching Liverpool’s Ron Yeates, who was far bigger than him, to the floor during a Cup tie.
Joe broke the goal record in Scotland, scoring 42 in a season for Hibs. He won eight England caps, and was the first England player to play from outside the league. He also played for Torino, and was partnered by Dennis Law, who reckons he is an all time legend. They both became disillusioned in Italy and were transferred to Arsenal and Manchester United respectively.
It is because of Joe, that I am an Arsenal supporter.
My father took me to all the First division London grounds when Burnley were in town when I was a small boy.
At Spurs I remember Jimmy Greaves, Bobby Smith, Les Allen, John White and Danny Blanchflower. When they played Burnley – they were the top two teams in the country.
Burnley had players like Ray Pointer, John Connolly, Alex Elder, Adam Blacklaw and Jimmy Adamson.
When Jimmy Greaves hit the post – and elderly lady next to me tapped me on the shoulder and said: “Excuse me, but was that a goal.” The ground, atmosphere or experience though didn’t have a lasting effect.
At Chelsea, the only player I can remember was Bobby Tambling. He had exceptional wing-type dribbling skills. I also remember the dog track between the very wide pitch and the fans – and it damaged the atmosphere.
At Fulham, on the terraces, I remember seeing Jimmy Hill. Strangely he’s the only player I remember. I also remember someone kicked the ball into the Thames, way over the stand. I remember Tommy Trinder was associated with the Craven Cottage for some reason and remember thinking how strange that there’s a cottage in a football ground, which runs right next to a river.
Arsenal was the last of the four grounds, I was taken to – it was a bright sunny day, high up in East Upper. I was a Burnley supporter – following in the father-son tradition.
However, in the first half, the Arsenal centre forward rose and arrowed a bullet header into the net. Soon after, he burst through and rifled a rising shot into the North Bank goal.
Don’t know what it was about these goals – the latent power, dynamism, or the setting – the angled glass stands glinting in the sun, the brilliant red and white of the Arsenal shirts, but from that time on I became an Arsenal supporter – to this day. Even though Arsenal lost 3-2 from memory.
A friend the other day said he regretted being introduced to Arsenal a few years ago because of the wasted emotional energy he uses up.
All I can say is that I’m glad Joe scored those goals that day, to give me loads of fond memories. Thanks Joe. Rest in peace.