As Premiership footballers across the land take their summer break, what better time to turn the clock back? During the 1970s, footballers were expected to put themselves through a gruelling 42-match marathon and there were only two points for a win. But somehow there was an gentle innocence about the decade some of us can still remember.

Back in the halycon 70s, glam rock was something you found on Blackpool pier, beer and cigarettes would cost you a pittance, and Stan Bowles had sideburns the size of Scotland. Players such as Bowles broke with convention, bent all the rules and challenged authority. But the 70s produced a whole gallery of skilful and entertaining players, and Bowles was a by-product of football's Golden Age.

Some 30 years ago, football was a glorious diversion rather than the money-spinning industry that it is today. Football boasted a wide variety of long-haired rebels and daredevils. It had jokers and gamblers, rogues and scallywags of the highest order. Players became full-time residents of the London club scene and booze became the ultimate temptation.

'Some 30 years ago, football was a glorious diversion rather than the money-spinning industry that it is today. Football boasted a wide variety of long-haired rebels and daredevils'


Stan Bowles played some of the best football at Queens Park Rangers and as the 70s progressed Bowles's football would flourish. He would strut around Loftus Road without a care in the world. When Stan arrived in London from Manchester he immediately discovered the bookmakers. At times he seemed happier with the horses rather than the Beautiful Game. A flutter on the 2.30 at Sandown was always his favourite pastime. Bowles, though, was the complete article, a player in utter command of any football match.

Chelsea also had their playboys and poseurs, a side teeming with the great and good of the footballing fraternity. Alan Hudson. the late Peter Osgood and Charlie Cooke pushed back all the boundaries and lived life to the full. Hell raising and hedonistic, all three were the classic examples of football's fun loving revolution. Hudson stroked his passes with love and affection; Cooke treated the ball like a precious piece of porcelain;  Osgood fired the goals with the ruthlessness of a gun-slinger.

At Manchester United, Gordon Hill and Steve Coppell were the trickiest wingers in the old First Division, full of mischief and impertinence, players who were never afraid to try the impossible. They were Old Trafford's cheekiest pickpockets and slippery customers. Hill had a wonderful way with comic impersonations and when he was asked to do Norman Wisdom, the chirpy cockney from Millwall always obliged.

On the other side of Manchester, Colin Bell and Rodney Marsh were conductors of the City orchestra. Marsh was the great stylist and will always have a place in the hearts of City and, later, Fulham fans. Alongside the immortal and much missed George Best, Marsh turned Craven Cottage into the funniest double act since Laurel and Hardy.

At Highbury, the former home of Arsenal, they too could point to a succession of court jesters and troubadours. The late George Armstrong hugged the wing and then turned defenders inside with twinkling footwork, surely one of the great Highbury icons. Liam Brady was a homegrown, and Arsenal through and through. Brady could thread the ball through the eye of the needle and will forever be regarded as a Highbury pass master. Brady had a draughtsman's eye for angles and from the moment the ball left his gifted feet, a goal was inevitable.

Liverpool, of course, can never be left out of any footballing review and the 70s proved to be no exception. Ian Callaghan gave Liverpool's midfield the gloss and polish that was so essential to the Anfield machinery. Then there were the two musketeers, Kevin Keegan and John Toshack, strikers who the Kop worshipped. Keegan was all fire, energy and bristling pace, the kind of forward managers dream about.

The story goes that when Bill Shankly summoned Keegan for an interview the young Scunthorpe forward had to sit on a dustbin. Keegan though had a skill and priceless audacity that was beyond imitation. Toshack was the tall, gangling Welshman who never shirked a goal scoring header at the far post.

Down the Seven Sisters Road, Spurs' tradition for push and run and quick passing football was the talk of the town. Ralph Coates, Alan Gilzean and Martin Chivers were the solid rocks on which Spurs built their football. Coates, tufts of hair blowing in the wind, always looked more like a pavement artist than a footballer. He floated and fluttered about the Tottenham midfield with a careless disregard for anything connected with the game. You could be sure though that his love of football would never diminish. Gilzean too would drift dreamily through a game before delivering the devastating pass. Chivers was a striker of immense power in the air and knew exactly where the goal was.

For all their critics, Leeds United, under Don Revie, were the great footballing charmers. The mind goes back to an unforgettable incident during a game against Southampton which Leeds were winning 7-0 and then indulged in a cat's cradle of 20-plus passes. It was astonishing and truly a wonder to behold. Peter Lorimer, Billy Bremner and Johnny Giles could turn matches into a pantomime. Bremner was the fiery, feisty Scotsman who never gave an inch. He was hard, uncompromising and spilt blood for the Leeds cause.

In the heart of London's East End, football formed its very own appreciation society. If football was looking for the voice of sanity and reason then West Ham provided it. Clyde Best, Graham Paddon, Pat Holland and the emerging Trevor Brooking were the bright and guiding lights in the Hammers midfield. Best was all brawn and muscle, Paddon was the cultivated playmaker and Brooking followed in Paddon's silky footsteps. Pat Holland was a tireless midfield worker who ran himself to a standstill.