The death of Jimmy Glazzard in 1995 will have brought a lump to the throat of anyone who stood on the Leeds Road terraces in the late forties and fifties.
Jimmy played before the majority of those who now go to the John Smith's Stadium were even born and during the last fifty years, professional football has changed out of all recognition - especially the players.
Back then Jimmy was a much loved footballer - some players are admired, some are respected, some are acclaimed: only a few receive the aggregate affection of an entire crowd.
When Jimmy jumped to "hang in the air" and head one of his classic goals, the crowd didn't applaud or cheer or shout: it gave a kind of purr of shared pleasure. We rejoiced in his goals, of course, and we savoured the wins they gave us: but it was the skill of a sublime craftsman that provides the lasting memories.
He was just a journeyman footballer, doing his chosen job. He received no recognition beyond Leeds Road. No England caps came his way. He sought no fame and coveted no glory. But we who watched him knew that he was pure gold, because we saw it glitter every week.
His goalscoring tally speaks for itself, but it wasn't so much his record, as the way he played that endeared him to us. He was wholehearted, he was inventive, he was deceptively quick, and he had that rare "vision" that sees an opening when others don't.
In addition, however, he had some further quality - some sort of "feelgood factor" - that communicated itself to spectators and made them murmur "good old Jimmy".
The game of football is much easier for spectators than it is for players. Up in the stand you get a three-dimensional view of the field, with plenty of open spaces, but down below it's all grass and boots and bodies. Jimmy had the priceless knack, given only to a few, of being able to see possibilities that were only otherwise visible to the watchers.
Jimmy demonstrated this gift perfectly on March 22, 1952 against Manchester United in front of 30,316 spectators - United were at the top, proud, strong and confident while Huddersfield Town were struggling near the bottom.
Half-way through the first half, we were under constant pressure. Another attack threatened, but Eddie Boot managed to hack the ball away and it ballooned downfield. Jimmy was the only Town player in the United half as the ball soared upwards. When the ball started to come down, we could see that it would pitch just in front of the penalty area. Jimmy and their centre-half began to jockey for position and their goalkeeper came out a bit in case the ball fell inside the penalty area.
As the ball got a bit lower, we began to see the glimmer of a possibility. If the ball bounced ......... Jimmy feinted to go for it on the full, then peeled away. Their centre-half was a stride short and the goalkeeper found himself too far out. In a split second Glazzard had made an opening out of nothing. As the ball bounced upwards, Jimmy leaped like a salmon with it. It was no contest! The ball was flicked over the centre-half and the goalkeeper floating perfectly into the net. The two defenders were left shouting at each other as Jimmy trotted back to the centre-circle.
In those days of course, there were no clenched fists, no finger gestures and certainly no horizontal embracing. The irony is that today's overrated players make silly and exaggerated responses to a simple goal which doesn't deserve any acclaim, whereas Jimmy gave just a nod and a smile for an exquisite goal that brought the house down.
The goal that has gone down in Town history, and which will never be forgotten by anyone privileged to see it, is Glazzard's header from Metcalfe's corner in the 8-2 defeat of Everton on Easter Tuesday 1954.
In many ways it was a simple goal, the kind of straightforward header which can be seen somewhere every weekend. What made it so special was the sheer perfection of it: the timing of the run, the beauty of the leap, the stupendous height reached, the majestic dispatch of the ball, the accuracy of the placement.
Today we have videos of everything, action replays and endless repeats of the minutest detail. If the technology had been available in Jimmy's day, what pleasure that leap would still be giving us. Indeed, a video of the whole of that Everton match would be something to savour. A beautiful sunny day, Leeds Road looking a picture, a full house, quality football and superb finishing - could you ask for anything more?
In fact, we got even more: Jimmy's astonishing achievement of four headed goals, all from Metcalfe centres.
Glazzard played football as it was always meant to be played: honestly, fairly and above all, with enjoyment. He had the affection of Town supporters, but he was also well regarded right across the football league. "Gentleman Jim" was an obvious journalistic tag, but it suited him. His behaviour never altered, whatever the provocation - and he came up against a few dedicated cloggers.
He also played against some of the most skilled footballers we have seen. Luton Town had an outstanding goalkeeper named Ron Baynham, who had many duels with Jimmy. Baynham was neither spectacular nor showy, but intelligence, anticipation and positioning made him an artist between the posts. Playing Luton at Leeds Road, Town had been foiled by the goalkeeper many times when they got a free-kick just outside the left corner of the penalty-area.
Metcalfe floated it in and Jimmy outwitted Baynham with a stealthy run and a deft flick into the bottom left-hand corner of the net. Our applause was silenced when the referee was seen indicating that he wanted the kick taken again. Perhaps even Jimmy's legendary good behaviour was tested a little then.
Metcalfe took the kick again, Jimmy appeared in just the right place again and this time his head put the ball in the bottom right-hand corner! For a frozen moment, Baynham and Glazzard were standing where they had landed, facing each other about five feet apart. They grinned at each other and shook hands. That gesture said much about a healthier era - and not just in terms of football.
So we salute a player who will never be forgotten and whose goals live on in the mind's eye. He scored every type of goal, as the occasion demanded. Some were straightforward, when he got on the end of a good pass or centre, but others he made himself, out of nothing. I remember a Central League match, with Jimmy having a run out after injury, in which he gave a goalscoring masterclass.
First a trademark far-post header, leaping and stretching and always in total control. Some players just "get their head to it", but Jimmy gave us a display of gymnastic perfection which always placed the ball precisely where he wanted.
Next, a through ball taken on without break of stride and struck cleanly and accurately into the corner. Some players panic and try to break the net, but Jimmy had the gift of hitting it with just the right weight for the situation.
The third goal showed the mark of a born goalscorer. Ball comes into goal-area, defenders and goalkeeper go for it, flurry of arms and legs, well-timed boot snakes out, ball in net, bodies lying everywhere, ref writes "Glazzard" in notebook.
His fourth goal that wet afternoon showed his sixth-sense. A bouncing ball on the edge of the penalty-area, with a lot of players hovering. Jimmy could have shot, but it would probably have been blocked. Instead, with two small, economical movements, he just tapped it forward into a space and then tipped it over the goalkeeper as he came out.
It is sad indeed that Jimmy wasn't able to enjoy the sunshine and contentment of old age, because he gave so much pleasure to so many people who went down to Leeds Road in the glory days.
They've taken away our ground, they've taken away our terraces, they've taken away shirts with proper red numbers, but they can't take away our happy memories of a great and a good sportsman.