The Real Duncan Edwards

Sat in the directors’ box with Sir Alex Ferguson for the recent 2-0 derby win, maybe, at the age of 89. Or speaking on the radio about the Busby Babes’ assault on the 1955/56 First Division title, 70 years on.

Alas, Saturday marks 68 years since the tragic passing of one of English football’s most legendary players. And the word ‘legendary’ is the right choice. Because the majority of fans today will not have seen Duncan play. What we know of him largely comes from the stories and testimonies that have followed in the long, sad decades since he left us.

And, as with the Busby Babes in general, much of that dialogue is coloured by Munich. By what was lost. By fantasies of what he, and they, might have gone on to achieve in the years that were whipped away from them by the icy horror of 6 February 1958. By a determination to ensure Duncan’s talent was not forgotten.

But for those of us who did not see him play, that burning, tantalising question always remains: just how good was Duncan Edwards, really?

Perhaps there’s only one way to get close to the truth in 2026. And that’s to strip away everything that was said after Munich. Take away the rheumy-eyed retrospectives from those who have never stopped grieving Duncan, whether they knew him personally or not. Take away the inevitably difficult comparisons with greats of subsequent decades. Scrape away the layers of the  legend, and go right back to the 1950s, and those four-and-a-bit years when Duncan played as a professional for Manchester United.

What did people say then? When football was the only consideration; when Munich was simply a distant place on a map that meant nothing to United fans. Well, in short, they said plenty…

WHISPERS OF GREATNESS

Go back to the newspapers from that period, and it’s amazing how many mentions there are of Duncan, long before he made his first-team debut for United in April 1953. 

There he is in March 1951, in the national press, after being appointed captain of an England junior side due to take on Ireland. In December of that year, in a News Chronicle piece entitled ‘League Clubs Want This Dudley Boy’, which reports on a poor Birmingham v London county game which fell “a long way below expectations … only Duncan Edwards (Dudley) being up to England class”.  From the beginning, the words consistently strongly hint at two specific qualities: that Edwards was incredibly versatile, and had clear facility as a natural leader. 

His signing for United was reported in the Manchester Evening News on 4 June 1952, with Tom Jackson – who would also die in Munich – labelling him “a brilliant youngster”. The very first FA Youth Cup started soon after, and in United’s first match in that competition – a 4-0 victory over Leeds – Edwards was immediately positioned at the head of United’s outstanding reserves of youth talent.

Intrigued by a Matt Busby comment which claimed there was more than £100,000 of young class at United, Willie Evans of The Daily Mirror went along to check out the claim. He didn’t need much convincing. “Believe me he’s right!” eulogised Evans, naming Albert Scanlon, David Pegg and then, inevitably, Duncan.

“It is hard to be outstanding in such a brilliant company,” he gushed. “But the lad who was able to do just that was Duncan Edwards, left half, last season’s England international skipper. He was great.”

Months before Edwards had signed professional terms, Busby handed him a first-team debut. It proved an inauspicious start – a 4-1 home defeat to Cardiff City – but even in the rubble of defeat, the 16-year-old was worthy of a word or two. The Evening News noted a “spectacular clearance” which set up United on an attack which finished with Edwards driving a 25-yarder narrowly wide.

He had to wait more than six months for another go. But even then, the football world clearly believed his ascension to greatness was almost a foregone conclusion. In August 1953, writing in the Sunday Express, England’s most famous player chimed in.

“Now for a young man of whom many of you outside the area of Old Trafford may not have heard... but you will before long,” began Stanley Matthews. “He is Duncan Edwards, a boy who should be a certain international inside a few years. This young half-back has everything... size, power, skill and courage. It is worth going a long way to see his cross-field pass, with distance no object. Matt Busby must be overjoyed to have discovered such a prodigy … [He] will be in the news this season.”

How right Stan was: Edwards helped United batter Matthews’s Blackpool just two months later, in only his fifth senior appearance. Duncan received rave reviews for his contributions to a 4-1 win against a team stuffed with internationals, that had famously won the FA Cup earlier that year. “How this boy has taken to big-time soccer!” cooed the MEN.

Edwards was rarely out of the United ever team again. He had just turned 17, and was already on the verge of superstardom.

THE ‘MIGHTY’ BOY

From here on, there flowed a constant stream of general astonishment at Edwards’ all-round capabilities and audacious ability to bend games to his will, despite his tender age.

Ahead of a trip to Newcastle in late December ’53, another clear theme emerged: strength. “What a glutton for work this 17-year-old is!” said the MEN, and the 2-1 victory that followed in early January proved the point perfectly, with The Daily Mirror comparing him to then world heavyweight champion Rocky Marciano, and noting how he’d ran England international Ivor Broadis “right out of St. James’ Park”.

Later that month he became the youngest-ever player to represent England B (under-23s), in an XI where only one of the other starters was under 20.

Words like ‘mighty’, ‘bulldozer’ and ‘prodigy’ were repeatedly used, as Edwards helped United to another Youth Cup in 1954, and played in multiple positions for United’s first team. In a piece that year on the optimum age for a professional footballer, then Manchester City striker Don Revie determined that the sweet spot fell between 25 and 30. But he couldn’t help but mention Duncan as “the exception” to his rule.

Journalists were already imploring the England selectors to consider him for senior duty, and his debut came at just 18 years and 183 days, in April 1955: a 7-2 victory over Scotland. He would remain England’s youngest debutant of the 20th century until Michael Owen’s emergence in 1998.

A YOUNG MASTER

Meanwhile, at club level, the full flowering of United’s youth talent was imminent, with Edwards leading the charge. What the Busby Babes delivered in 1955/56 is still one of the outstanding achievements in English football history: a title won by 11 points, in an era where two points were awarded for each victory. The side’s average age was just 22.

In 1956/57 they did it again, this time by a mere eight points, while also competing in the European Cup and reaching the FA Cup final. In the final full season before Munich, Edwards was simply at the peak of his powers, and salutes to his greatness littered the football press. At 20 years, he was already a two-time English champion, an England regular, and the inspirational heart of one of the greatest club teams ever seen in Britain.

“He is the greatest player of his age I have ever seen,” admitted Busby. While Tom Finney, another of the true greats of this era, already deemed him worthy of consideration to be named the greatest wing-half of all time.

But, of course, Busby didn’t always use Edwards in his favoured position. In the FA Cup quarter-final away to Bournemouth in March ’57, Edwards started at centre-forward due to the absence of striker Tommy Taylor, but then dropped back into central defence from the 10th minute, after Mark Jones was stretchered off. Despite the one-man deficit, the Reds came from behind to win 2-1.

When he did play in his preferred position, wing-half – analogous to central midfield nowadays – he was nothing less than a titanic figure in United’s side. Arguably the Babes’ greatest performance came on 6 February 1957 – exactly one year before the crash – when they overturned Athletic Club’s 5-3 first-leg lead in the quarter-final of the European Cup.

After a remarkable 3-0 victory had been completed, the Daily Express’s Desmond Hackett called Edwards “the boy of this man’s match” who had “inspired this England Soccer armada”. The Daily Herald labelled him a “dreadnought” who had “obliterated his inside-forward but still found time and place to charge up into the firing line”.

A LIFE TOO SHORT

Reading over the swathes of praise given to Duncan during his lifetime feels painful, as you approach his final months. But if you concentrate on what is being said and reported – and not the unbearable sense of impending loss – you see clearly what Duncan is in early 1958: already one of the greats.

At 20, he had been pipped to the 1957 Footballer of the Year award by Tom Finney, for example. He was in the final 10 for the BBC’s Sports Personality of the Year too. The only other footballers nominated were Finney (35 years old) and Matthews (42).  After England’s beat Wales in October ’57, Desmond Hackett wrote that Duncan was simply “the most effective player in English football”.

It’s at this point that we’re tempted to go beyond Munich and pose those familiar questions once again… What might Duncan have done had he lived? Would he have captained England to the 1966 World Cup? How many European Cups might United have amassed if the Babes had not been cut down before their prime?

But let’s not. Instead, let’s just keep it simple and remind ourselves of the question we asked at the start of this piece: how good was Duncan Edwards, really? Well, the evidence we can draw from the period in which he played is overwhelming: this boy, this man, was very, very quickly considered one of the most exceptional players to ever emerge from these isles.

Edwards was not only seen as a great in his preferred position; he excelled all over the pitch. He did not just draw fantastic performances from his own well of talent; he frequently lifted those who played alongside him too.

So in the year of his 90th birthday, let’s not think of what might have been. Let’s celebrate what was. Because long before Munich’s lengthy shadow, the world knew – beyond any reasonable doubt – that Duncan Edwards was a great.