Growing up in rural Dagenham, Alf Ramsey was spotted in local football by ex-Saint, and by now Portsmouth scout, Ned Liddle.

He signed amateur forms in January 1940 but had heard nothing more when, come June, he joined up. He expressed regret, in his autobiography, Talking Football, that “the war put paid to my dreams.” But only in so far as those dreams involved playing for First Division Pompey. As Sgt Ramsey of the Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry, he came to The Dell in August 1943, as centre-half in an Army XI that lost 10-3 in a pre-season friendly (see scrapbook section). Seven weeks later, Alf was signing for Southampton on the Southampton-to-Waterloo train, ultimate destination Luton. As the journey progressed, he was introduced to the state of war-time football by the player sitting next to him: Ted Bates.

A coming-together, then, of two former errand-boys, whose jobs had obliged them to play in Thursday-afternoon football: Alf for Five Elms United; and Ted for the more romantically-named Thetford Thursday. Having signed pro forms in 1944, Alf began the transitional season of 1945-46 as a centre-forward, scoring twice in each of the first two games. And he was again at No.9 when “official” football resumed a year later, scoring for the Reserves in each of their three opening matches. But he soon switched to right-back and pretty much established himself in that position – for the Reserves until January, but thereafter in the first team. The circumstances in which right-back Bill Ellerington went down with pleurisy in January 1947 have been described in his profile. Ramsey seized his chance and would not miss a game for two years. Such was Alf’s progress that he was capped by England in December 1948. But his Southampton career was about to hit the buffers.

Two explanations have been offered, revolving around the Saints’ matches on consecutive Saturdays, 8 and 15 January 1949. On the first Saturday, the side exited the FA Cup at Hillsborough. They were due at Loftus Road, the following Saturday, but QPR were replaying their Cup-tie. So, too, were Plymouth’s scheduled opponents. In those days, teams with a blank Saturday didn’t jet off to Malaga, let alone Dubai: if at all possible, they found a way of playing a friendly. Which is how Southampton came to be at Home Park on 15 January. Ramsey came off with a knee injury during that match. That could be sufficient explanation for his losing his place to Ellerington. But when interviewed for Dell Diamond, Joe Mallett painted a more complex picture. Bill Rochford, the left-back and captain, was an esteemed master of offside tactics and took issue with Ramsey, during half-time in the Hillsborough Cup-tie, for his failure to deploy those tactics properly. To make matters worse, Dodgin insisted that Alf pull out of a dinner, the following Friday, in order to play at Plymouth. And then, Mallett explained, the manager accused Ramsey of “pulling a fast one” when he went down, holding his knee.

One way or another, Ellerington came in for the rest of the season, while Ramsey “took umbrage” and sulked in the Reserves.

Alf admitted that he became “obsessed” with what he perceived as a put-down by manager Dodgin, when told that he would “find it very hard to regain” his place from Ellerington. But what else was Dodgin to say? He had to choose between two of the top right-backs in the country – Ellerington would be capped come the summer – and the appearance records speak for themselves: throughout the three seasons of 1946-49, whichever of the two was in possession remained there until taken ill or injured. Ellerington accepted that and “never moaned,” Dodgin claimed.

Decoded, the manager’s message was clear: the sulking Ramsey was the one who could go.

Their team-mates would continue to debate – at some length, 50 years on, in Dell Diamond – the respective merits of the competitors at right-back: Ramsey, compensating for his lack of pace with his reading of the game; and Ellerington, acclaimed as one of the finest-ever kickers of a football. In the week in which Ellerington made his England debut, Ramsey moved to Tottenham, to enjoy “the happiest days” of his life, starting with the run-away championship of that division in his first season and the League title a year later.

He repeated that act at Ipswich, taking over as manager in 1955, upon their relegation to Division III(S), and winning promotions in 1957 and 1961, en route to the League title in 1962. His having achieved that impressive climb without any obvious stars, the FA decided that he was tactically qualified to manage England, with an available handful of half-decent players – a belief he amply justified by bringing home the World Cup in 1966.

Sacked after the failure to qualify for the finals of 1974 World Cup, Alf retired to live, as something of a recluse, in Ipswich.

He had never been the greatest of mixers and the cussedness he had demonstrated in his final months at The Dell was never going to endear him with some of the FA establishment.

The feeling that the FA suits had treated him shabbily, and that his knowledge and experience might have been put to better use after 1974, gained currency. Yet, although Alf was knighted in 1967, other honours have been posthumous. Ipswich erected a statue to him in 2000, a year after his death. And in 2009, when medals were belatedly awarded to the 11 members – Terry Paine included (see scrapbook section) – of the 1966 squad who had not featured in the Final, George Cohen stepped up, on behalf of Lady Ramsey, to accept a medal for the late Sir Alf.