Alan Shearer opens up on his father’s demise and nonetheless ‘feeling misplaced’

Alan Shearer has penned a moving tribute to his late father and admitted he is ‘feeling lost’ amid his grief.

His dad, also named Alan, passed away aged 80 earlier this year following a reoccurrence of cancer. 

He had been diagnosed in February having already beaten the disease at the age of 65. 

Alan Sr. chose the Match of the Day theme tune to play in the crematorium and Shearer describes carrying the coffin as ‘the hardest thing I’ve ever done’.

Ahead of his return to TV screens with the show, Shearer wrote a column in The Athletic exploring his father’s influence on his life and navigating the emotional wounds inflicted by his death. 

Alan Shearer has penned an emotional tribute to his father, who died after a battle with cancer

He knows that it will be ‘very tough’ going on Match of the Day after the theme tune played at his father’s cremation

‘Without my dad here, part of me feels lost and untethered and I hope you can understand. Without wishing to be too maudlin, perhaps you might think of him when the Match of the Day theme sounds this weekend. I know I will. And, if it’s right and feels appropriate, think of your family, too,’ he wrote. 

‘I’ll be in the BBC studios in Salford this weekend and I honestly can’t tell you how it will feel when that famous tune starts up, but I do know it will be tough — very tough.’

He relates how his father was stubborn to the very last, insisting on being brought out of his bed and even showing him how to use the TV remote. 

‘He told us exactly what he wanted and he told us that when the time came, he wanted to be at home. And he was. We were all there with him and it was very peaceful. The pain had gone,’ Shearer wrote. 

‘On the way, there were light and dark moments. We knew what was coming and one day when I was trying to switch off for a couple of hours, I got a call from my mam, “Dad wants you and Karen home now. He’s ready to go.”

‘In the end, he lasted for another 27 or 28 hours, but on that final evening, he talked through his life, the people he had fights with and didn’t like and plans for his own funeral. He was laughing and reminiscing. The clarity was amazing.’

Shearer recalls his father’s humble background working as a sheet metal worker in Cramlington, Northumberland. 

He was married for 59 years and while he was not a great footballer himself, he always found energy when he came home from work to play football in the street with his son. 

Shearer pays tribute to the sacrifices his father made to help him become a footballer

Shearer said: ‘Without my dad throwing a ball at my pudgy little legs, I would never have been Newcastle’s No 9, wheeling away from the Gallowgate End with my right arm in the air’

His father was so principled that he refused to attend games Shearer managed out of protest against Mike Ashley’s ownership 

The legendary Newcastle striker describes how his parents became a ‘taxi service’, ferrying him to and from Wallsend Boys Club multiple times a week to hone his skills. 

Even when he could afford to look after them, they insisted on working – his dad leaving the house at 7am – but he was able to buy his parents a house in his mid-20s.  

So headstrong was he that even when his son was appointed as Newcastle manager in 2009, he refused to attend matches as he had stopped going out of protest against Mike Ashley’s ownership. 

But there was no denying his quiet love for his son. After he had broken Newcastle’s scoring record in 2006, he ‘broke the habit of a lifetime’ by saying: ‘Well done, son, I’m proud of you.’

‘He was not a poetic man, my dad — he was as grounded as they come, a bloke’s bloke, a Geordie grafter — but when I was a kid, we’d sat around the telly as a family on Saturday nights watching the football highlights. So how about that for a choker?’ Shearer wrote. 

‘I got to the end of last season with the blinkers on. I appeared on Match of the Day a couple of times and glided through it, just as I did for my punditry work at the European Championship, but the here and now feels different. 

‘Without my dad throwing a ball at my pudgy little legs, I would never have been Newcastle’s No 9, wheeling away from the Gallowgate End with my right arm in the air. 

‘Without my parents filling and emptying their penny bottle, I would never have owned the boots to become a footballer. My life is his life, my mam’s life, their sacrifice, their normality, our stubbornness, my dream, those things we carry, always on time, never late and our silent, unspoken pride in each other.’