John Ritchie

Full name: John Henry Ritchie       
Date of birth: 12 July 1941
Date of diagnosis: 2000 (aged 59)
Diagnosis: Alzheimers
Date of death: 23 February 2007 (aged 65) 
Occupation: Professional Footballer
Position:  Striker/ Centre Forward

The Boothen End called him “Big John”, I called him “Dad”. My Father played in 434 games, scoring 209 goals for Stoke City and Sheffield Wednesday. He remains the all-time leading goal scorer for The Potters, his business continues, ran by his children and his name, in gold, remains as a reminder of the many golfing achievements of 40 years as a member of his golf club.

At 6 feet 2” my Father was a giant of a man, lean but muscular, jet black hair, handsome features and piercing blue eyes. Like an electrical charge, you always knew when my Father had entered a room. Known for his heading prowess, he scored a large amount of his goals through bravery and sheer will. This bravery, although he did not know it at the time, would cost my father first, his ability to function verbally, reasonably and eventually physically until his death in 2007.

The first symptoms were easy to miss, he stumbled over words, put the wrong petrol into his car and became agitated at simple tasks. The first time we became concerned, as a family, after he returned from a golfing holiday with friends. Several times, he had become confused, scared and on more than one occasion, he had succumbed to tears. Then began months, years of tests, of misdiagnosis, over this time he quickly lost the ability to speak, the ability to function without help and inevitably his confusion and upset gave way to nothing. He became a shell, just a skeletal body, those blue eyes had dulled, like a torch whose batteries are dying, barely a flicker remained and then on the 23rd of February 2007, he left us. 

My Father died from complications linked to Alzheimers, through MRI, the specialist diagnosed, my Father had a build up of plaque to the front of his brain, this had been caused by the trauma of the constant impact to his forehead from a football, in the early part of his career a football that was leather, heavy and unforgiving. I wonder, if he was aware of the damage being done, if he would have continued. For 60 years of his life, he had been a football legend, a brilliant golfer, a successful business man and the head of a family that provided homes for his Mother and Father, his wife and children and would he have changed that? Sadly, that question will remained unanswered.

David Ritchie