So, about 1975... — Square Ball 15/5/26

Never Meet Your Enemies

Written by: Alan Wheatley

They say never meet your heroes,
but what about meeting your enemies?

What would you say if you found yourself in a one-on-one conversation with Der Kaiser — Franz Beckenbauer? I’ve often wondered what I should have said. In truth, I’m not sure I’d publish my first instincts.

Yet, in the early 2000s, I found myself doing exactly that — spending several unexpected hours in the company of the man who, for many Leeds fans, represents the most controversial night in our football history.

I had been living in Dubai since 1998. In mid-2005, my late and very good friend Stuart Priestley introduced me to Beckenbauer as we crossed paths in a Dubai hotel. Stuart and I went back years — both from the same part of Yorkshire, he from Rodley, near my home in Calverley. He had carved out a remarkable role running travel for Leeds United under Ridsdale and O’Leary. For a Leeds supporter, it was as close as you could get to living the dream.

When Leeds’ fortunes declined, Stuart moved to Dubai and took on a senior role managing football sponsorship at Emirates. At that time, Emirates had just been announced as a FIFA partner for the 2006 World Cup, and Beckenbauer had been engaged as a brand ambassador, which was why he was in Dubai.

The real encounter came a little later.

One foggy morning — a rare occurrence in Dubai — flights were heavily delayed. By chance, Beckenbauer and I were booked on the same flight to London, though in very different sections of the aircraft.

Stuart called me knowing that I was in Dubai Airport. Beckenbauer’s phone wasn’t working, and he asked if I could try to find him.

This led to the slightly surreal experience of me attempting to gain entry to the first-class lounge (without a first-class ticket), explaining to the reception staff that I was looking for “a famous German footballer — Franz Beckenbauer.”

There was a blank stare and unsurprisingly, I was politely refused.

But as I handed my phone to the receptionist so she could speak with Stuart, Beckenbauer himself appeared. He recognised me, came over and immediately resolved the situation. I passed him the phone. He spoke briefly with Stuart, handed it back, then turned to me: “Alan, would you like to stay and have a drink until the flight leaves?”

I didn’t hesitate.

Then came the caveat, delivered with a smile: “But if you mention the 1975 European Cup Final… I will have to ask you to leave.”

We both laughed — and with that, I found myself sitting in the first-class lounge, sharing a few early-morning glasses of wine with Der Kaiser.

What followed was not an interrogation, nor anything resembling confrontation. It was simply conversation — easy, relaxed, and surprisingly normal. He spoke with a gentle voice, excellent English and a funny sense of humour.

He told me he was travelling to London for the Laureus World Sports Awards. I asked whether he expected to win anything. He smiled. “No. Players like Pelé, Maradona — the strikers — they win these awards. Not defenders.”

We spoke about the upcoming World Cup in Germany. He said the country had been ready to host for years and talked about how special it would be, beginning in Munich and ending in Berlin.

Of course, there was an elephant in the room.

Eventually — briefly, cautiously — we approached it.

The 1975 European Cup Final.

Beckenbauer didn’t avoid the subject, but he didn’t dwell on it either.

He acknowledged Leeds as a top side and said Bayern expected a difficult match. They were also the reigning champions and confident in their ability. I asked about the Allan Clarke penalty appeal.

“The referee didn’t give it,” he said simply. “You continue. Decisions are part of football.”

The Lorimer goal?

He believed Bremner was offside — and that the linesman had agreed.

After the match, Bayern celebrated with their supporters but chose not to do a full lap of honour “for obvious reasons”. Any trouble in the tunnel?

“Not that I remember. Most of the Leeds players were gone.”

It wasn’t revelatory. There were no headlines. Just a calm, matter-of-fact account from a man who had lived it — and long since moved on.

He believed Bremner was offside — and that the linesman had agreed.

At one point I asked whether he had encountered any Leeds players in later years.

He said he had, during his time with the NASL playing for New York Cosmos. Players like Peter Lorimer and Trevor Cherry were in the NASL around the same time.

“No problems,” he said.

As the morning wore on, I had almost forgotten I was due to meet my friend Richard, who was on the same flight. I told him to meet me at the first-class lounge reception, which understandably raised some suspicion.

When he arrived, I introduced him to my new drinking companion. He was somewhere between shocked and impressed. Clearly not who he expected me to be drinking with so early in the morning.

Richard, a lifelong West Ham supporter, shook Beckenbauer’s hand and proudly announced that his team had beaten Germany in 1966.

Beckenbauer smiled politely. “Yes, yes — I know England beat us in that one.” Richard shook his head. “No, Mr Beckenbauer, I meant West Ham.”

Eventually, boarding was called.

We shook hands. Beckenbauer turned left as he entered the first-class section of the aircraft.

They say you should never meet your heroes for fear they won’t live up to expectations. But perhaps meeting your enemies is different. Spend enough time with them, and you may find they are not enemies at all — just people who happened to be on the other side of a moment you will never forget.