The Premier League might be
awash with exotic, overseas stars but that’s not always replicated on a cold
Thursday evening in the South London amateur leagues. Some lad from Leeds who’s
moved down for a digital marketing role and a flat share in Clapham Common is
often about as close as you get to a non-native.
So when a stern-faced,
broad-shouldered Hungarian strode out of an old Chevrolet in early 2010, Rocks
Lane didn’t know quite what to make of it. Istvan Borbely had arrived for his
Wandsworth Athletic debut, but words were not really his strong point. The term
mumble seemed almost custom designed for Borbely, although at times grunt might
have actually been more appropriate. The man from Budapest had a harsh edge.
If fluent vocabulary wasn’t
Borbely’s best suit, hitting a football – hard – certainly was. In his
teammate’s parlance, Borbely had an absolute melt on him. He would smash the
synthetic leather off the size 5 with his sledgehammer left boot whenever play
opened up in front of him. And Borbely wasn’t averse to smashing other things
as well. Uncompromising is probably the polite way to describe him, although
his affectionate nickname amongst colleagues was the Hungarian Hardman.
Imaginative – no. Accurate – absolutely yes.
Borbely liked to mix it, and
it soon transpired that most opposition players didn’t really fancy mixing it
back. Not that anyone could blame them – Borbely was an intimidating
individual, with the phrase “you wouldn’t want to meet him down a dark alley”
especially apt. If Borbely hadn’t played with the rolled down socks look, you’d
have seriously worried what he had stuffed behind his shin pad.
To paint Borbely as a
bumbling bruiser would be completely unfair however. The Hardman had ability
too – not just the afore mentioned thunderous long ranger, but a deft touch,
quick feet and an eye for a pass. When he stormed into the Wandsworth side,
Borbely swiftly became an integral part of a title winning unit. Strong
defensively and a regular goal scorer at the other end, the Hungarian was a
real winner.
Yet as ever with a cult hero,
it was not just excellent ability and a league winner’s medal that secured
Borbely’s place as a legend to be fondly recalled for years to come. While SW13
will always wistfully recollect that brute of a left peg and the wonderful
goals it scored, the bone-crunching tackles and ferocious stare will perhaps
provide an even greater part of Borbely’s legacy. As will the magnificent
customised insults.
It’s been touched on already
that Borbely wasn’t exactly an extrovert chatterbox but when the time called
for it, he knew how to speak alright. On one dark evening in the inhospitable
Raynes Park Goals setting, a venue best summarised by the four word description
“a bit Jeremy Kyle”, Borbely brutally smashed a portly opponent who’d made the
earlier mistake of going in a bit late on the Hungarian. And he wasn’t finished
there. After an icy stare down, Borbley growled perhaps the best insult ever
delivered in a Wandsworth jersey.
“Shut the f**k up you fatty
cow”.
Safe to say, there wasn’t
another peep all game.
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