Cod Almighty | Diary

John Fraser - rest in peace

5 September 2019

For most of us he was just there. Of all the things you look out for at a match – the players, the fans, the opposition, the referee, the manager – the physiotherapist comes somewhere near the bottom of the list.

Once or twice a game, he'd hurry on to the field, bag in hand, and then spend half a minute or more tending to a prostrate player. Most times, he'd walk off, less hurried now and alone, as his charge flexed his knee and tried out a cautious trot before the game resumed. Now and again, he'd have to help that player from the field, arm under shoulders, his whole body a picture of care, tenderness and consolation.

Perhaps it was a favourite player who had been injured: Jack Lewis, Joe Waters, Don O'Riordan. Even then – especially then – our focus would be on the player, not the physio. Would he be able to resume? Will he be back next week or next month? But in that gesture of care – a slight shift of weight to ease the tension on the injured leg, a muttered word we none of us hear – John Fraser stood for us all.

John McDermott reported the death of John Fraser on Tuesday. Fraser was Town's physiotherapist from 1971 until the late 1980s. When he started he'd have been called "the magic sponge" – a sponge would have been the main item in his kitbag. By the time he finished, he was at the coalface of the burgeoning industry of sports science. Throughout that time, he'd appear at the edge of the team photo, a staunch, avuncular, very Scottish-looking, reliable presence.

It occurs to Middle-Aged Diary, now that it is too late, that if ever a fan wanted the inside track on everything that mattered at Blundell Park, Fraser was who they would have wanted to know. He'd hear the fears of players wondering if they would ever play again. Or still in the side but struggling for form as they managed a twinge or a tightness.

It also occurs to me, however, that the players' secrets would have been safe. They would have known that he would say nothing they did not want to be heard. Now he has taken those secrets to the grave.

Macca's tribute gives us a sense of the support he gave his charges. Even if we hardly noticed, in caring for our players, John Fraser was all of us. Our condolences to his family and friends.