NEIL BONNAR: White Hot reunion date is also famous for 'that' goal
11:00pm Thursday 7th March 2013 in Sport
THERE’S a line in Crocodile Dundee where the hero is asked how an Aborigine finds his way through the Australian bush in the dark.
“He thinks his way,” he explains.
In a similar way there are sportsmen who seem to operate purely on instinct and have the God-given talent to pull it off.
They are pigeonholed as geniuses or mavericks and exist across the full spectrum of sport.
People like Shane Warne, Phil Taylor, Jonah Lomu, Muhammad Ali, Ronnie O’Sullivan, Seve Ballesteros and Ayrton Senna, or in football Paul Gascoigne, George Best and the young Wayne Rooney.
Bolton Wanderers have been blessed with their fair share of these one-off talents such as Sasa Curcic and Jay Jay Okocha.
And going back a few years there was the best example of all. Frank Worthington.
Like Best, Worthington was as well known for his flamboyant lifestyle as his football.
He stood out from the crowd with his cowboy hat and boots and slicked-back hair in the style of his musical hero Elvis Presley.
And like all sporting heroes, he had his moment in time.
It came in 1979, when he scored a goal at Burnden Park which was voted that year’s goal of the season.
Anyone who has seen it will never forget how he juggled the ball on the edge of the box with his back to goal, knocked it over his head to take out two Ipswich defenders and then rifled a volley into the bottom corner.
It came on April 21, and if that date rings a bell it is because, by coincidence, it is the date of this year’s White Hot Reunion at the Reebok Stadium, when the Bolton team who beat Liverpool 20 years ago will mark the occasion.
It is being organised by John McGinlay – an even bigger Wanderers hero than Worthington and only one place behind Nat Lofthouse in the legend league table.
McGinlay scored one of the goals at Anfield that night, and footage of it will be shown on the night.
A part of me would love Worthington to be there too, and at one point in the evening pause McGinlay’s goal and play his own to commemorate its 34th anniversary.
In my mind’s eye he would be standing at the bar, a girl on each arm and glass of Champagne in hand, and, adapting another line from Crocodile Dundee, say: “Call that a goal?... THAT’S a goal.”