You can’t write a standalone para on a hit and miss blog post to sum up what John Robertson meant to Forest fans. Especially when it’s half bashed out on Christmas Day. The obits in His Majesty’s Popular Prints will no doubt do justice to the Miracle Man in the morning.
But woh. Robbo. That hit hard. It’s been no secret down at the World Famous that he has been seriously unwell for a while now. His lifestyle and laid back approach to life looks like it finally caught up with him. It was such a shame that he couldn’t make the Malmo reunion down at Trentside last month.
One by one, we are losing that transformative Forest team from the late 70’s. Tricky Trevor - now that really hurt, Big Larry, and now the most talented man from a squad of misfits and geniuses. Robbo manages to make both categories.
My own memories from that period are hazy. In my defence, I was only seven years of age when I first visited the World Famous. I definitely saw Robbo play in the Championship season. Likewise in European Cup matches. My memory, and any lack of physical memorabilia, means that I can’t pinpoint specific matches apart from the League Cup Final replay away at Old Trafford in ‘78.
Robbo famously fell out with BC when he did the dirty and briefly signed for D***y. But he was only the collateral damage. The real story was the lifelong friendship between Clough and Taylor coming to an end over that particular deal.
Robbo did find his way back to the City Ground, but the magic was gone. The Miracle Men team had long since been broken up. He was a bit part player, brought in to show guidance to a second generation of Clough kids that was starting to shine. What a role model to have, on and off the pitch, etc.
I was surprised to see him follow Martin O’Neill into management, first at L******er, and then surprisingly up at Celtic. The Good Cop, Bad Cop pairing was incredibly successful at both clubs, almost on a level with what Clough and Taylor achieved.
O’Neill somehow found the energy to return to Celtic last month. Robby’s days on the touchline were over many, many years ago. It has been a slow decline, but his legacy will always be untarnished at Forest. He was the tramp with the scruffy shoes and greasy hair, that provided the perfect pinpoint cross for Francis to score THAT goal.
And now they’re both gone. Measuring moments in your own life around these external storylines can get a little unsettling. Especially so on Christmas Day.
What a man.