1966 IS not a bad year for England. However, in the early part, John Lennon creates a global furore when he claims the Beatles are more popular than Jesus.
The London gangster, Ronnie Kray – one of the Kray twins – murders rival, George Cornell, in the Blind Beggar pub in Whitechapel, and Labour wins a second general election in two years under Prime Minister Harold Wilson – but this time by a landslide.
The Beatles’ ‘We Can Work It Out’ dominates the UK pop charts, as does ‘Michelle’, also written by Lennon and McCartney but sung by the Overlanders. During March, Pickles the mixed breed collie, suddenly becomes an international celebrity.
Rob Rookledge and I are both approaching our 12th birthdays as we savour the build up to the World Cup in July.
We learn that the trophy (proper name, the Jules Rimet Trophy) is on display at Westminster Central Hall in London.
“Hope nobody nicks it,” says Rooker.
“Nobody nicks it?” I repeat. “Don’t talk daft. It’s guarded round the clock. Be easier to nick the crown jewels.”
Next day Rob knocks on our door. “You know what you said about the World Cup? Someone’s only gone and nicked it.”
“Gi’ o’er man! You’re fibbing!”
“Bet you a fiver,” he says stretching out his right hand to shake mine (Rob and I often bet each other a fiver and we feel genuinely bereft when we lose, but money never changes hands). “Switch on your radio and listen, then.”
It turns out, to our country’s acute embarrassment, we have indeed had the Jules Rimet Trophy stolen from under our very noses!
I’m gutted – not so much over the trophy but because I’ve lost the bet. I thought a win was a dead cert.
I close one eye as I figure how I can dodge this debt. “Erm, I don’t think we actually shook hands on it, Rob.”
“We did! We did! You bloody cheat!”
“Alright, alright, but I bet we get the trophy back,” I say. “Double or quits?” and Rob’s happy to accept the new wager.
Behind the scenes, in high circles, there are many recriminations about the stolen trophy, as an internal investigation reveals that security was woefully slack.
Meanwhile, the Chairman of the English FA, Joe Mears, receives a ransom note saying: “Cough up £15,000 or the trophy gets melted down. And DON’T involve the police!” signed Jackson”
But Mears does contact Scotland Yard and a plan is hatched to capture and arrest Jackson and his co-conspirators.
The thick wads of money are placed inside a bulging suitcase but each wad has only one fiver, placed at the top, to create the illusion of 15 grand.
An undercover policeman then arranges to meet Jackson at Battersea Park where the, predominantly worthless paper will be exchanged for the cup.
But Jackson smells a rat, flees on foot and is later caught and arrested. It turns out that Jackson’s real name is Edward Betchley and he’s a former soldier.
Despite Betchley’s arrest, the trophy is still missing for a few more days. It’s finally sniffed out from under a garden hedge by Pickles the dog, whilst on a walk with his owner in South London.
Later, Rob and I are glued to our TV screen as Dave Corbett, explains – not too convincingly – how his dog found the Cup wrapped tightly in newspaper and string.
Eventually, Dave Corbett is proven totally innocent and collects the reward of £5,000 (£121,000 in today’s money).
Pickles becomes an international celebrity and is given the Dog of the Year Award, the Italian Dog of the Year Award and a medal from the National Canine Defence League. Moreover, he appears on TV’s Blue Peter and Magpie, and in the film comedy, ‘The Spy with the Cold Nose’.
After England’s victory in the final of the competition, the team attends a celebration dinner where Bobby Moore and the players emerge onto the hotel balcony to wave at supporters.
The England skipper shows Pickles to the ecstatic crowd.
Edward Betchley has an alibi for the day of the theft but is still jailed for demanding money with menaces. Rob Rookledge and I are, at last, even with our gambling, and England are world champions.
Not a bad year, really...
