'The banks of my own lovely Lee' rang out as Frank O’Farrell left his beloved St Denis church for the last time

Frank O'Farrell's grandson Richard Coombes said: 

They laid Frank O’Farrell to rest on the English Riviera yesterday with a glowing tribute from the most powerful man in world football and another from a notorious London gangster.

FIFA president Gianni Infantino sent a personal message of fond farewell from Zurich, acknowledging the mark left on the global stage by an Irishman derailed at an early age from his boyhood ambition of becoming an engine driver like his father.

Jim O’Farrell, sprightly and sure of step at 89, read Il Presidente’s words during the requiem mass for his famous brother at Our Lady Help of Christians and St Denis Church in Torquay where Frank spent the last 40 years of his long life having learnt the art of soccer management there during the mid-Sixties.

"A footballing icon,’’ Infantino wrote via email. "Once of Cork United FC. A great sportsman, softly-spoken, much liked and respected. His personality, his loyalty and humourous qualities will not be forgotten. He will be truly missed." 

Had the Swiss lawyer known chapter and verse of the most controversial period of O’Farrell’s life, his 18 months as the first and last Irishman to manage affairs at Old Trafford, he made no reference to it but then he wasn’t alone in that.

Throughout the 65-minute service, Manchester United barely got a mention despite two separate references to O’Farrell’s management career. His clubs were listed in chronological order: Weymouth, Torquay, Leicester, Manchester (not Manchester United or Manchester City, just Manchester), Cardiff, Iran, Al-Shaab and back to Torquay.

That may, of course, have been a pure coincidence, except that anyone aware of the betrayal O’Farrell felt over his shabby treatment at the club and the enduring hurt it caused would not have been surprised.

In rising above it all, the family ensured that the old ghosts stayed out of sight. This wasn’t the time to recall how Sir Matt Busby had tried to sign his successor for £12,000-a-year when the board had agreed to offer him £15,000-a-year.

Nor was it the place to mention that O’Farrell had been given five years to rebuild a fading force only to be sacked after one full season, long enough to ensure he will forever be the only Manchester United manager to play his first home match at a half-empty Anfield – Arsenal in August 1971. Old Trafford had been closed as punishment for hooliganism.

His final journey, taking the hearse past the Plainmoor ground where O’Farrell’s Gulls earned their manager rapid promotion to the world’s biggest club via Leicester City, was not going to be spoilt by reopening old wounds, not when the old scores had been settled. The wreaths sent by his former clubs did include one from United.

Jim O’Farrell spoke about the first journey his brother made, to London shortly after the end of the Second World War. "Frank left Cork on a sailing ship," he said. "And his colleagues on the railways gave him a ticker-tape sent off." 

At a church dance somewhere in London’s East End shortly after he’d begun to make a name for himself with West Ham, O’Farrell met Ann, the girl to whom he would be married for what Jim described as ’66 years of bliss until Ann passed away last year.’ Frank’s grandson, Richard Coombes, outlined their ensuing conversation.

"Ann said to Frank: 'So what do you do for work?'

"Frank said: 'I’m a footballer.'

"Ann said: 'Ok. What’s your real job?'

"Wags and Hello magazine didn’t exist back then. My grandfather always said that after shoveling coal on the Cork to Dublin train, any job was bound to be easier. As a family we have been touched by the tributes from all around the world to an amazing, kind person, a fantastic man who had a great career in football. He was always very modest and always went out of his way to help people whenever and wherever he could." 

A devout Roman Catholic, O’Farrell’s practical Christianity inspired him to reach out to the less fortunate, often to those paying their debt to society in jails across the country. Those whom he impressed included the gangster, Reggie Kray.

"Frank was invited to speak at many prisons and as a result he even developed an unlikely pen friend in Reggie Kray," Richard told mourners. "He would always comment on how smart Frank’s suit was and thanking him for sparing them the time. My grandfather loved all the work he did for the church. He would tell me he was the oldest altar boy alive. He would often make pilgrimages to France, taking it all in his stride no matter how long the journey.

"He loved visiting Cork whenever he could. He was very proud to be a Cork man. He loved his city and for me it was a privilege to be able to call him my grandfather. As Frank would say: ‘Never mind the encore, let the same man sing again. Sleep well…’’ 

And with that he left his beloved St Denis church for the last time to the sweet sound of a song O’Farrell would have learnt long before he began work as a railway fireman: 'The banks of my own lovely Lee'.

And the sound brought a warmth to the chill wind blowing around the Devon seaside resort where they were proud to call Frank O’Farrell one of their own.