“Just stay close to me,” said my father as he hurled himself into the solid wall of supporters. It seemed impossible but somehow he managed to get us some sight of the match, which England won by the only goal scored. It’s Saturday, 11th April 1959 and my father has taken me to Wembley for the oldest international fixture in football. But our special train from Lime Street is somehow late and we arrive after the match has started. I have one overriding memory of the day,