Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
The cautionary tale of ‘The Black Flash’
Albert Johanneson’s fragile soul bore the scars of an oppressive past
WE live in a grabbing country where heroes have been sacrificed on the altar of avarice. In spite of the trauma of a political system of separation, and the extreme sacrifice of those who have gone before, everybody remains selfishly glued to their own narcissistic pursuits.
And yet it is so vital to always look back. The past is inextricably intertwined in our present. To understand who we are today, a frank perusal of all the dark yesterdays is paramount, because without our scarred history and the painful sacrifice of many, all the opportunities available today would not have been possible.
This is exactly the point stressed by former Manchester United and Bafana Bafana star Quinton Fortune at this week’s launch of a comic book to highlight the inspirational, but tragic, life and football career of former Leeds United winger Albert Johanneson. The 24page comic, illustrated by Archie Birch, is a joint venture between the District Six Museum and the Football Unites, Racism Divides organisation, based in Sheffield, UK.
While Johanneson’s story is revealed in comic book form, it’s wonderfully told and the didactic message is definitely not lost. There is no doubt that it will provide inspiration for today’s young footballers, and act as a history lesson to demonstrate what talented South African footballers had to go through in the past.
As Fortune said at the launch at the District Six Museum this week: “I realised that it was because of the sacrifice of someone like Mr Johanneson that I was able to play overseas. He paved the way for us to be able to follow in his foot-
“Albert was quite a brave man to actually go on the pitch in the first place, wasn’t he? And he went out and did it. He had a lot of skill. He was a nice man as well … which is, I suppose, the more important thing, isn’t it? More important than anything…” – George Best
steps and become successful players in England. For that, I will always be grateful.”
Johanneson is famous for being the first black footballer to play in a FA Cup final when he turned out for Leeds in the 1965 finale against Liverpool.
But what many perhaps don’t know is that Johanneson – again that important historical perspective – came to the Mother City in 1972 to play for popular Cape club Glenville. The boss of the then-Federation Professional League team, Fred Eagles, persuaded a sponsor to put up the money for Glenville to bring Johanneson to Cape Town.
And former Glenville players remember the great Johanneson with a mixture of pride and mirth because, as they all say, in addition to being a fantastic footballer, he was quite the character too.
“It was a real honour to play alongside him,” said Peter Eagles, who was Glenville’s captain at the time.
Ke i th Arendze, another member of that successful Glenville squad in 1972, acknowledged that Johanneson played an influential role in the team’s success.
“He brought with him training methods from England, which we could use to develop ourselves,” said Arendze.
“At training, we used to run ourselves to death … but he changed that. We learnt so much from him during his time at Glenville. And that year, Glenville won everything that was on offer.”
Johanneson was born in Germiston and played for community club Germiston Colliers. A local school teacher and football scout took the youngster under his wing and recommended him to Leeds United. At the age of 21, the talented Johanneson, nicknamed “Hurry, Hurry” because of his pace and skill on the ball, signed a professional contract with the English
club.
But having grown up during the oppressive grip of apartheid brutality, Johanneson was already psychologically affected. With his fragile soul already bruised and battered, he found things no different in England. He was booed from the terraces, called a monkey and, this, often by his own Leeds supporters. He struggled … and as such, the lure of the narcotic release of drugs and alcohol took hold.
The end was quick and tragic as he succumbed to his inner demons, and he died pen- niless and alone at the age of 55.
But, despite this, Johanneson will always be remembered for the beauty of his football. He was, without any shadow of a doubt, a great, a legend. He was Leeds’ topscorer with 15 goals in 41 games during the 1963-64 season.
His peers had nothing but awe and respect for his talent. Leeds teammate Johnny Giles once said he believed that the man who became known as “The Black Flash” was “one of the game’s outstanding personalities”, even on par with the gloriously gifted George Best of Manchester United.
Best himself said of Johanneson: “Albert was quite a brave man to actually go on the pitch in the first place, wasn’t he? And he went out and did it.
“He had a lot of skill. He was a nice man as well … which is, I suppose, the more important thing, isn’t it? More important than anything…”
In 1970, Johanneson moved from Leeds to York City, and it was there he was playing when Glenville approached him to spend a few months in the Mother City.
And, as Eagles and Arendze related when sharing their memories at the District Six launch of the comic this week, even when he came to play in Cape Town, Johanneson’s love for booze and fun were already apparent.
“I remember when we arrived at training one day, it was very cold,” said Eagles. “So Albert had a stiff few beforehand. I also remember us playing one day and he’d also had a few, and the referee came to me, as the captain, and asked, ‘what’s he on?’”
Arendze, too, recollected: “He was always lekker (under the influence of alcohol), but he was an amazing guy. You always knew where you were with him and he was quite a funny guy too. Albert and guys like Don Lucas, Dennis Bantam and Christy Martin were the life of the party during our bus trips to play games in Durban or Joburg.
“I remember once we had about 12 bottles of Mainstay (cane) in the bus and Albert asked, ‘drink it with water … why?’ And he proceeded to do a strip by taking off a piece of clothing every time he had a drink. But he was a great guy, he always made jokes, and he was a great footballer as well.”
Johanneson’s tale, of course, is reminiscent of quite a few recent South African footballers whose talent lifted them out of the cycle of poverty, only to find the glare of the spotlight and the rush of sudden wealth too much to handle.
And that is why the comic book that tells the story of his extraordinary life is such a vital part of the history of this country – not only to show how opportunity can open the window to potential, and eventual success, but also as a cautionary parable for today’s emerging young footballers.