Farewell To Keeper Who Believed The Big Stage Belonged To Others
Readers of the Wolves Former Players Association may have already read this account by John Richards on the funeral of Gary Pierce a few days ago. But we consider it more than worthy of an airing on this website, too.
A line-up of mourners including Gerry O’Hara, Steve Kindon, Steve Daley, Norman Bell, John Richards, Mel Eves and Geoff Palmer.
It was inevitable, I suppose, that the ‘Bloody Big Nobody from Bury’ would leave us with broad smiles on our faces.
Almost 200 mourners attended the public service in the magnificent parish church slap bang in the centre of his historic home-town.
Gary had a big family and they were all there to say their farewells to this larger than life Lancashire lad, joined by his friends (almost as numerous), plus neighbours and a good sprinkling of his former playing colleagues. It was a fitting turn-out.
The sun shone and, following a warm and very personal service, the family and close friends went on to a private ceremony at the local crematorium. It was here, in the garden area after the short committal, that some of the stories of Gary’s varied life and career were shared.
Some mourners also took the opportunity to enjoy a calming cigarette – another reminder of Gary and his legacy.
The wake was in the Knowsley pub, less than 200 yards from the church, and Gary’s local for the last three years. The landlord was quick to point out that he’d only found out about the footballing background around 18 months ago.
The venue did him proud, and the TV screens in the room were showing the 1974 League Cup final in full, with plenty of cheers when Gary was performing heroics with saves from the likes of Denis Law, Rodney Marsh and Franny Lee. There was the expected boo when Colin Bell scored the equaliser but, overall, it was a lovely atmosphere, and the memories weren’t lying – Gary was terrific.
At Wolves, we remember him as an unassuming, humble lad who seemed surprised at how good he was and, at times, unable to believe he was actually playing in the Wolves first team at Molineux. Even as recently as last year, at our 50th anniversary celebration, he was apologetic about his appearance in the 1974 final. He was uncomfortable with the fact he had taken over the mantle from his mentor and great friend, Phil Parkes.
He always believed it should have been Phil standing between those posts at Wembley.
Gary at home in Bury.
As footballers, we know the game can be cruel and kind in equal measures and some things are beyond anyone’s control, as was Phil’s broken ankle which gave Gary a way back into the side.
It could just as easily have been a poisoned chalice but it turned out to be his moment of fame and, in the eyes of Wolves supporters of that generation, he became a legend. May he rest in peace.
So why did we leave with broad smiles on our faces? Gary’s final choice of music, as we were exiting the family and friends’ service at the crematorium, was Freddie Mercury singing The Great Pretender.
Brilliant, and typical Gary – humility, humour and magnificent to the very last. A great lad.