We Were Proud To Call Him A Friend

I WAS stopped in my tracks yesterday morning when Danny Potter rang to ask if I’d heard the news that Mitchell Cole, the Leiston keeper’s former Stevenage team-mate, had died.

I was about to go into Baldock Tesco, where I often bump into the 27-year-old, his wife Charly and their two children, daughter Rhys, 7, and son Georgie, 5.

Charly is due to give birth to their third, a little girl, any day now, and forget about any footballing achievements – this is a lovely family that has lost its dad, its husband, its hero.

My wife has made birthday cakes for the children, who used to go to the same playgroup and nursery as ours.
Only last month I had to jump onto a grass verge when out for a morning jog as Mitch – tooting his horn after finishing the school run – jokingly tried to run me over!

Having regularly watched him flying down the left wing for Grays, Boro, Oxford and last season – after his heart condition had forced retirement from the professional game – my old club Hitchin Town, I could call him a friend.

The messages on Facebook and twitter yesterday from people who knew him even better were so heartfelt, tear-inducing.

Cole is England C’s second top goalscorer of all-time with seven, he won the FA Trophy three times, the Conference South with Grays and then the Premier title with Boro.

Their fans’ song for him, to the tune of Spandau Ballet’s ‘Gold’, was in my head all day yesterday: ‘Mitchell Cole, always believe in your soul, you’ve got the power to know, you’re indestructible!’

Sadly he wasn’t, and another great one has gone far, far too young. RIP Mitch.