Paul Mariner was one of the people who made us feel important.
He was, himself, absolutely vital to the greatest team in Ipswich Town's history, and in that sense he played a huge part in making Ipswich matter, both as a football club and a town, but more than that, Paul had a sheer presence which helped to elevate the sensation of being an Ipswich supporter into something that had more status than fandom: that we were part of something unique, something for others to envy.
For those lucky enough to have seen Paul Mariner play, that presence was unforgettable: the sheer physicality of the man was a huge part of his game, and every time he stepped onto the pitch with that number 9 on his back, you sensed that we already held something superior over the opposition, before the game had even started. But it wasn't just his physical strength, there was a character, a confidence, a swagger about Paul which lifted his team-mates and his supporters even further. When every fibre, every action, every gesture of your centre-forward conveyed a sense of "We are going to make the other team's life hell for the next 90 minutes and we are going to enjoy every single second of it", you could justifiably feel excited about what was coming. More times than not, that excitement was justified.
The £200,000 that Bobby Robson spent to recruit Paul from Plymouth Argyle was a lot of money in 1976, especially for a club like Ipswich. It remained the club's record transfer fee for the next four years. What's remarkable, looking back at the videos and the match reports from that era, is just how immediately Mariner became central to the team's growing success. That confidence again, that unshakeable self-belief, that beaming smile after each goal, was woven into the fabric of Robson's peak years at Ipswich from the moment of Mariner's arrival. Initially, he was the spearhead of a pacy, direct approach, frequently on the end of a cross from Clive Woods or a raking pass from Brian Talbot.
That incarnation of Robson's Ipswich reached its zenith at Wembley 1978, but remarkably, even better was to come with the addition of Mühren and Thijssen. Once Robson had been persuaded to recognise the true value of his Dutch assets, the team's style was revolutionised, but Mariner's centrality to it was unchanged. Watch those videos. You can see the delight, the anticipation in the number 9's eyes as soon as Mühren gets the ball and looks up before crossing. You can see the confidence in Mühren as he swings it across, knowing that Mariner will have the anticipation, the strength, the skill to get on the end of it. What a team.
As the England men's football team prepares, at the time of writing, for its biggest match in 55 years, Paul's passing is a reminder that Ipswich players were once an integral part of the national team too. Mariner scored the goal that took England to the 1982 World Cup, and scored in England's first game of the finals, an impressive (though as it turned out, illusory) 3-1 win over France. Those were two of 13 goals that Mariner scored in an England shirt: some of the videos that have been posted since his passing are an astonishing reminder of just how spectacular some of those goals were. Paul was much, much more than a traditional "big number 9" - it's no exaggeration to say that his deftness of touch, his willingness to drop deep and drag defenders out of position, helped to set the blueprint for those who followed, from Lineker to Sheringham to Kane.
Paul's legacy, just like Robson's and Beattie's and the others', is for all Ipswich fans, not just those who are old enough to have been there at the time. By helping to make us important then, he helps to make us important now, to give our club a standing and a history that supporters of all ages can claim as their own, and continue to aspire to. The affection held for Paul by everyone at Portman Road was clearly reciprocated, and evident with every return visit that he made as an opposition coach or a guest. The face may have aged but that smile never dimmed. Thank you, Paul, for giving us so much to smile about, then and now.
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