KUMB.com is blessed with some fantastic wordsmiths; Paul Walker, Allen Cummings and others with professional, journalistic expertise and experience. And then there's Gnome with his wealth of knowledge and linguistic nous.
I guarantee that they will be waxing lyrical abut our erstwhile hero. But despite their own personal insight, I’d feel gutted if I didn’t offer my own thoughts about the late, great William Arthur Bonds MBE.He joined the club from Charlton in 1967, four years before I entered this mortal coil. For as long as my memories of West Ham United have existed, the one piece I of glue that was a constant was Billy Bonds.
Growing up he was our captain. He was an icon. Full of beard, bravado, bravery and soul. Even back then, in a different age, a different life, where football was not just about the 90 minutes on the pitch but the tribalism and frequent brutality off it, he was a beacon of inspiration, courage and complete integrity.
A warrior on the pitch. Am absolute gentleman off it. A man held in high esteem by everybody connected with football. Playing in age of hard mem, mercurial talent on the pitch and violence off it.
Say the words Billy Bonds and, amongst this smorgasbord of extremes which is the footballing universe, he was someone who was admixed by all. He could play, he could battle, he could defend, be a yardstick of fitness, courageousness and temperament.
But most of all, he was a man admired for being an absolute behemoth of a human being.
For the 101% he gave on the pitch as a player, he gave nothing off it either as a family man, a gentleman and quite simply one of the most respected humans I’ve heard of.
I caught the tail end of his playing career as an active supporter. But the media coverage, plus friend and family adulation of what I missed, stuck with me. What I witnessed in person was inspiration and leadership.
A return against the odds at the age of 40 and still being our best player. Someone universally adored. Someone whose sheer genius resents raised the game of those around him.
He became youth team boss first, then the manager of West Ham United. In my formative years as a travelling fan, he led a team of characters and complexity but tried to install the professionalism and ethics into them.
It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t always successful but he gave everything and much of the squad he nurtured became ingrained as members of the wider West Ham family. You don’t have to be born one of us to truly become one of us.
He led by example off the pitch as much as he did on it.
I was fortunate enough to meet Billy on a couple of occasions in his post-football life. He was, as expected, honest, genuine, appreciative and humble. They say never meet your heroes, but meeting Billy Bonds dispels that myth.
And everyone I know and have heard takes from about the great man has cemented that opinion.
Normality I’m not affected by the passing of people. I’ve always been of the opinion that grief and mourning is for friends and family only. But there’s something about this club, the true legends who play for it.
Today I hurt in a way I’ve not for some while. The Bonds family has lost a husband and father. The football family have lost a giant. West Ham have lost a son, an icon, a hero, an inspiration, a true legend.
Billy Bonda MBE, you will be forever adored and worshipped. A humble man, with a huge legacy. RIP.
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