We at the FWA were saddened to hear of the passing of Jack Steggles, former member, friend and colleague for many of us. Jack celebrated his 90th birthday earlier this year.
Jack, who worked for the Daily Mirror for over 20 years and then the Daily Star, was one of the most colourful characters on the circuit, always ready with a quip and smile, and loved to drum up a headline.
He leaves behind his wife Sylvie and daughters Amanda and Lisa. His funeral will take place at Weeley Crematorium, Colchester Road, CO16 9JP on Tuesday December 24 at 12:30 followed by a wake at The Black Boy.
His family say: “We understand not everyone will be able to make it due to the time of the year but all are welcome who would like to come.”
Lee Clayton, head of sport at the Daily Mail Group, was taking his first steps in journalism when Jack took him under his wing. He has written this lovely tribute to his mentor.
The hallway of Jack Steggles’ warm and inviting home in Dagenham, Essex, was like an encyclopaedia of newspaper sport.
Framed Daily Mirror back pages, cuttings of spreads of Olympic Games coverage, London football stories and a heavyweight world title fight from The Tokyo Dome where a chap called Mike Tyson had been tipped to defeat Buster Douglas in 90 seconds by HBO.
That “Steggles of the Mirror” was a stand-in at ringside for one of the great sporting upsets in history was unlikely but also somehow fitting. Filing live copy breathlessly from ringside back to London, you can just imagine him finishing the call by saying: “That puts the tin hat on it for me.”
That was one of his sayings. In fact, Jack had many sayings. Think sport’s journalism’s answer to Bruce Forsyth and the Generation Game and one can recall Jack asking for a “Jack and Jill” from a waiter in some faraway land as the poor chap wondered exactly what Cockney rhyming slang he was being asked to understand.
If the Poles and East Germans weren’t quite up to speed with their guest just yet, they would soon get to know him well.
With Ipswich trailblazing through Europe under Bobby Robson in the late 70s, many stories would later be shared with young upstarts trying to follow in the footsteps of the legendary London football pack, with heavyweights such as Alex Montgomery and Kevin Moseley to the fore.
Then, as now, reporters from London would be detailed to Ipswich Town and, in later years, Norwich City too, journeys that would often include excruciating trips along the narrow path of the A12. Sometimes it felt as if you could get to deepest Warsaw faster.
Many of that super-talented Ipswich first team, international stars galore, were on first-name terms with Jack. Terry Butcher, the powerhouse England central defender, was one who always greeted Jack warmly.
Jack was kind enough to offer me a lift to matches in that neck of the woods and we would spend hours in traffic talking football and complaining about West Ham along the way. His lovely wife “Sylv” would be waiting with a cup of tea when we finally returned.
I loved listening to his stories, such as covering the Seoul Olympic Games of 1998 when Ben Johnson failed his drugs test after winning the 100m gold in a world record time of 9.79. Legend has it that Jack was live on BBC radio as a contributor when the news was confirmed from IOC Headquarters, before scurrying to his typewriter to file copy back to London. One can only imagine the adrenalin and drama of such breathtaking news.
I first met him on the second game of my embryonic reporting career, when I was dispatched by David Balmforth and The Sun sports desk to Upton Park for a First Division match against Southampton. I was a spotty-faced know-nothing covering a match involving footballers I had been watching from the South Bank terracing only weeks earlier. I was 17 and caught in the headlights.
Mark Ward, the feisty West Ham winger, was sent off that day and Jack sweet-talked the stewards and found himself outside the dressing rooms. He managed to grab five minutes with Jimmy Case, that wily midfield aggressor who knew how it felt to fall foul of the officials. Case was supportive of Ward but reminded him to be careful or his career would be blighted by his aggressive nature.
How do I know what was said? Kindly, Jack shared the scribbled after-match quotes with me when he had no reason to. I still have the page lead in my Nan’s old scrapbooks. I owed Jack for that.
He was always generous with his time and advice (and lifts to games). Later, in 1990, Jack and I journeyed together to Eindhoven for the unveiling of Robson as coach. Though Bobby’s relationship with the English press was strained following his departure from the England job, he was happy to greet Jack. Once again I was the beneficiary of his relationships. Later, when I was Sports Editor of The People, Jack would cover matches and contribute to the famous transfer column, Hotline, thanks to the longevity of his contacts.
He was trusted, respected and loved. As one colleague said yesterday: “Decent guy, good operator in the old school way when you could smell leather and ink and keep warm in a sheepskin with a cigar.”
Yes, that puts the tin hat on it rather nicely, don’t you think?
