Of all the tributes that have been pouring in for Alan Ball, the one which sums up the man was sent in to the BBC by a Mancunian. While playing for Everton in the mid-to-late sixties, Ball lived in a suburb of Manchester and was so passionate about the game, he would beg the man in question (a 13-year-old lad at the time) to let him join in with his kick-abouts on the street with his friends. "We were United fans," the man said, "but Bally was our hero."

He was a hero to all of us. Ball was a man driven by football who worked harder at his game than any other player of his or any generation. This passion was instilled into him by his maverick father, Alan senior, a bit player-manager who led his teams as if they were on the National Service parade grounds at five in the morning.

And it is that very workhorse mentality that possibly won England the World Cup in 1966, when Ball, the youngest member of the team, ran miles and miles over the Wembley turf to power the engine house of a midfield that eventually overcame the West Germans.

There was much talk of that mid-sixties era of Bobby Charlton, Geroge Best and Denis Law, but for me the Everton midfield of Colin Harvey, Howard Kendall and Ball was as good, if not better, in the 1969-70 season when they won the league. As a Leeds fan I had the privilege of seeing Ball many times for Blackpool (where he started out as a precocious youngster), then Everton and Arsenal.

His move to the Gunners was inspired. He was as brilliant for them as he was for Everton. Yes, he was a firebrand all right, but his football acumen did the talking and the phenomenal work rate put him in the superstar class. In today's market he would be too expensive even for Roman Abramovich.

Tragically, Ball has died at the relatively young age of 61. But he leaves behind a glorious career, the pinnacle of which was that unforgettable day in 1966. But there was much sadness in his life as well. Unlike today's mega-rich so-called superstars, Ball was part of a generation which, despite their status in the footballing world, did not earn much out of the game. Two years ago, he sold his World Cup winners' medal and commemorative tournament cap to raise money for his wife and daughter, who had been diagnosed with cancer. His wife subsequently died.

Ball was part of an era when football was very much the people's game, when you paid relatively little to stand behind the goal to cheer your team, and when clubs were generally part of the community, and a local lad who had stood next to you on those terraces could make it in the team.

This was very much the secret of Sir Alf Ramsey's success in catching the mood of the time. He took a punt on the young lad from unfashionable Blackpool (Ball only went on to Everton after the World Cup), and it paid out dividends.

And it's interesting to note that the nearest equivalent we have to Ball in today's ramshackle England team is Steven Gerrard, another young lad who understands that hard work, not PR book launches, wins medals and trophies. This is the legacy that the great Alan Ball leaves.

What are your memories of Alan Ball? We want to hear from you at Sportingo.