There was a lot to cope with last Friday night in Yorkshire. First came news that Leeds United had agreed to sell Kalvin Phillips to Manchester City. Then, while we were processing the loss over the Pennines of our hometown hero, we learned from Look North that legendary presenter Harry Gration had died, aged 71. This sad moment was, in its way, pure Gration: he had to deliver a lot of bad news over the years at the BBC, but the sound Yorkshireness of his method helped you keep things in perspective. You can care that a footballer is changing clubs, because it’s important to you, and Harry would reflect that in his tone, but also it doesn’t really matter, and he’d let that through as well. When the news really was important, Gration would tell you what you needed to know but he wouldn’t hide his emotions, and it helped somehow that the person breaking bad news to you wasn’t pretending it didn’t affect him too. And you knew you’d be alright in the end, because however bad things got, Harry would still end up going over to Paul for the weather.

An indication of Harry’s standing in Yorkshire, even 32 years ago, is that of the two interviews in the first ever issue of The Square Ball, Gration was one. The other was Vinnie Jones, and I’ll leave you to judge who is the bigger icon in Leeds. We’re bringing that interview back from 1990 as a small tribute from the time capsule. It captures Gration at an interesting moment in his career; already well into his stint on Look North, he had been guest presenting nationally on Grandstand and Final Score and, after his work at the 1986 World Cup and 1988 Olympics, might have fancied himself in the running to replace Des Lynam as the BBC’s face of sport. That gig went to Steve Rider in 1991. The other thing to know about this interview is that it took place at the peak of the internecine conflicts between BBC and ITV for Football League coverage that, ultimately, ended with the triumph of Sky and the formation of the Premier League. In 1990 ITV had the rights to show live league football, but as Harry says, they weren’t making the best of their chance to serve the games that mattered to viewers of their regional channels. Lastly, we should mention that Harry’s feelings about York City changed over the years. But then, you’ll find evidence of Gration championing clubs all over the county, even as far south and godforsaken as Sheffield, because when you speak to all of Yorkshire every night, the more good news you can give people, the better it is.

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All is far from well in the sporting firmament for Our Harry. Yes, the tragic truth that belies the familiar silver-tinged features and winsome smile of BBC Leeds’ own Walter Cronkite is that bitterness has begun to invade the man’s every waking moment. So much so that the spectre of profanity attends any off-the cuff missive:

“It’s a good contract for ITV, they’ve got a right to expect exclusivity, but I’m damn jealous of it.”

No beating about the bush.

But it’s not just sour grapes informing that man Gration’s case. Week after leaden week the license-payer’s football ration remains dictated by forces of prejudice that make a mockery of the comprehensive Football League ‘scoop’ pulled off by ITV in 1988. The channel where sport gets increasingly relegated to the Ratings Ethic of housewives’ pet (Nick Owen), or worse, to a mere dabble in the domain of Light Entertainment (select fixtures wielded as weapons against festive BBC packages) has Harry’s respect for presentation, but…

“I get sick to death of it. It’s always Liverpool, Manchester United…”

But what if he was in the same position, the same pressure?

“I still wouldn’t do it! What I’d have done, definitely, is make Sheffield United vs Leeds an absolute must; Leeds vs Sunderland, Leeds vs Newcastle — games that should be covered on television.”

Harry’s slot on Look North, and dwindling national profile (his twelfth stint as Grandstand’s own David Fairclough-style supersub looks like being his last), means missing out on the involvement at Elland Road he cut his reporter’s teeth on (“I saw them into the Second Division at Radio Leeds”).

It also means a surrender of sorts to long-standing adversary John ‘Wooah Socrates’ Helm, ironically the man initially responsible for H’s exchange of blackboard jungle for microphone, now lording it over YTV’s Sunday output.

“A lot of people just think, oh — you never cover Leeds United… but we can’t. I’m not allowed in the ground. All we’ve got is the FA Cup,” (enough said). “I’m racking myself as to ways to cover it but we’re just strapped for the action.”

When it comes to his own allegiances, Harry is at pains to dispel the indispensable, namely doubts over the purity of his, er, unusual combination:

“My greatest wish would be to see Leeds United and Bradford City in the First Division!”

Hold on, this is a Bradford lad talking, despite the Chapel Allerton diversion. What if it was the last minute in a Leeds vs Bradford cup-tie?

“It might sound like hedging the issue, but I wouldn’t choose between them. I’d always look for their results against anybody else, always have done. If I said I supported York City, it might be neutral but it’s not true.”

Ho hum. Still, Gration’s primal recollections of the game seem dominated by the Don’s side, with Norman Hunter taking the honours as “the epitome of what I’d wanted to be as a footballer.”

In reflecting on hours spent in awe at the feats of Bremner, Giles and the rest (“Out of this world…”), Harry’s equivocation finally snaps.

“They got some shitty decisions, they really did. You look at the tapes over and over again, and they were definitely robbed in ’75.”

On the question of Revie’s legacy, too, strong convictions: “What should have happened was Brian Clough being given the reins to do what he wanted. Leeds would’ve had one bad season but they’d still be in the First Division now. Or, it should’ve gone to Johnny Giles, as Revie wanted… but I’m afraid they shot themselves in the foot, and they have done that a lot.”

So, the subject warmed to, and promotion duly broached. Harry’s dealings with Bilko [Howard Wilkinson] leave him optimistic:

“Well, I can’t tip a wheelbarrow, but I think they’ll go up easily. The question over Howard now is, has he got the bottle to change the style of play? That team would struggle in the First Division… aggressive, difficult to beat, yes — but you need something more. Against Liverpool and Arsenal you’ll be exposed.”

We disagreed on specific changes: “They’ll need another striker. Lee Chapman might score goals but he’ll need someone to help him.” Davison’s potential (he’d be side by side with Dean Saunders now had [Derby owner] Robert Maxwell not fancied buying Watford) eludes H.

“I think Howard had a system at Wednesday which worked very well for two seasons in Division One. Always in the top eight. I’d think he’ll do the same again, without the mistakes.”

Beyond May, of course, sees a meeting of the media set on the polo-shirted knotted-hanky chic of your usual World Cup Junket. A detectable sigh reveals our affable Northern advocate’s horrifying omission from the best-laid plans of the BBC for Italia ’90.

Shaping up, Harry confides his faith in England reaching the semi-finals, “but I think the first hurdle, Holland and the Irish in Cagliari, will be the toughest.”

Still won’t be the same for the armchair millions deprived of the Harry Gration grasp of the carnival’s workings, eh? A perspective enhanced so eloquently back in the stifling heat and rancour that accompanied Scotland’s exit back in 1986.

“I had the brief after the Uruguay match to interview Graeme Souness as he left the pitch. The only way I could do it was to climb over the fence and race a hundred yards to where the players file into the tunnel underground. I got there just in time, asked if he could do an interview for BBC television, and he said, ‘Fuck off.’ Taught me a lot about what football means, did that.” ⬢