This is desperately sad and bad news. Bert was the first idol I ever worshipped as a lad and will always be my greatest sporting hero. As a lad we all played football endlessly on the local park, and the summer of 1956 is the only time I can remember when everyone wanted to be in goal to relive those epic moments when Bert rose, semi-conscious and and in agony, and refused to leave the pitch, preferring to throw himself fearlessly in the way of successive waves of Birmingham attacks to bring the cup to Manchester. When my family stood in the masses at Piccadilly to watch the team bring the cup home he was still in unimaginable pain, and escaped death that day by a whisker. But that was Bert, loyal and faithful whatever the circumstances. And it was Bert, German, paratrooper Bert showing what real Germans could be like rather than the ludicrous parodies put forward in Britain just after the war. And Bert was always far more than a footballer - he was a role model and the personification of reconciliation. And this was something he worked for tirelessly for well over 60 years, and we are all proud of our association and our City's association with a truly great man. It is, therefore, ironic that he succombed to a heart attack - because if there was one thing that would never have failed him or anyone else was his heart. Rest in peace, Bert, you'll always be with us in Manchester.