Freddie Burcombe covered boxing for the News of the World and was not only a pal of Colin Hart but sat a few seats away from him as a West Ham season ticket holder.
“Matches won’t be the same without him; this font of knowledge, dissecting the performance at half and full time, walking to the station chatting with his animated love of sport. He was an amazing , incredible personality and played a big part in my life.”
Colin Hart had no problem living with the eight-hour time difference between London and Las Vegas.
He had been to the big fight capital so many times he knew his way around the place as well as the back roads and alleys of his home manor East Ham, Plaistow, Forest Gate, Canning Town and Green Street and Upton Park
So his antennae told him on clock-ticking Saturdays it was coming up to the final whistle in West Ham’s game. The result would determine the East Ender’s mood for the next few hours at least.
Harty, as he was fondly known to the sporting world, would joke: ‘Oh, how I have been made to suffer over the years!”
But he took it on the chin and would never surrender his loyalty and affiliation.
His father Nathan took him to his first game at the Boleyn when just five. At aged 89, and closing In dangerously close to scoring 90, his season ticket will now, sadly, pass on like him.
Whether any new holder will see as much drama and adventure as this avid fan is hard to imagine.
If you cornered the esteemed veteran Voice of Boxing for The Sun newspaper you didn’t need to hold him against the ropes to catch a torrent of anecdotes about the Hammers.
He could let rip about the good and the bad but always maintained: “Any manager who has kept us up in the old First Division or now the Premiership has my regard.”
Harty wasn’t one-eyed though.
He appreciated classy, stylish, exciting brands of football from any side and would concede defeat, if not happily, to the better side.
“Manchester City are without hesitation the best English team I have ever seen,“ he stated, without hesitation.
And he saw some great ones. His eye for an emerging boxer was matched by his ability to spot a footballer who was going to bloom.
‘’One day I was at home with my dad and doing nothing much so we decided on the spur of the moment to go to watch the Hammers youth team,” recalled Colin.
‘’Playing and standing out like a beacon was this blond kid. We were open mouthed. It was Bobby Moore. What a talent.”
Every Hammer knows what he went on the achieve. Similarly there was another blond bundle of skill that took his imagination to heights.
‘’We had drawn 1-1 at Huddersfield in the third round of the FA Cup in 1960. The replay pitch at Upton Park was more like Nottingham Ice Rink,” he said.
‘’I don’t know about Torvill and Dean but this skinny 19-year-old skated around our lot as though they weren’t there and they beat us 5-1. The facial expression of my dad and me screamed out ‘Who is this?’
‘Talk about take your breath away…It turned out the lad causing havoc was Denis Law. Two months later he signed for Manchester City for a then British record £55,000.”
Colin’s ability to spot a good ‘un percolated down the long years where he was among the few people who witnessed both fathers and sons play for the club; for example the Lampards, Browns, Moncurs.
The Ron Greenwood era was one he cherished. He was not locked in nostalgia though.
Harty moved with the generations (except being swept up in the mobile phone wave) and after one or two games, he declared: ‘’This young fellow is going to be some player, I am not sure we are going to be able to hold him.”
He was speaking, of course, about Declan Rice, who captained the Hammers to the trophy-famine ending UEFA Europa Conference League Cup two years ago, before moving to Arsenal for £105million.
Harty was among that rare breed who could reminisce alongside that win with memories of three FA Cup victories plus the 1965 Cup Winners’ Cup.
When spotted at home matches he was often requested for selfies and autographs as though he had played in those blockbusters.
If only they had realised what an historical mix and match of boxing and football folklore he had nestled under his mop of white hair.
His like will never be seen again.
A one-off. A bit like that fair-haired youth, Bobby Moore.