Len Shackleton – the genuine footballing legend with the freedom of Las Vegas – Chronicle Live

Len Shackleton was a footballing genius. No question about that. He was known as the Clown Prince of Soccer long before Gazza, a player with twinkling feet and an equally roguish sense of fun.

He was the man who launched a thousand quips. When Shack penned his autobiography he cheekily headlined one chapter 'What Directors Know About Football' and left the page blank.

Shack, ever flamboyant, delivered the perfect introduction when he signed for Newcastle United. In his very first game he scored an unbelievable double hat-trick - yes, six goals - against Newport County who were slaughtered 13-0, still the Magpies biggest victory in their history. Nobody ever topped Shack.

I became a good, good friend of his. We knocked about on United's Fairs Cup excursions across Europe and flew out to Las Vegas together on a North Eastern Sporting Club trip just before the Mags continental success of 69.

Alderman William McKeag was with us, an aristocratic character who was chairman of United and regularly rowed in public with Stan Seymour, a down to earth working class bloke who called a spade a ruddy shovel.

McKeag spoke like Churchill, wore pin striped suits, and even occasionally pince-nez glasses (a sort of double monocle) on a chord.

Anyway for weeks before we left for Vegas McKeag's office were in touch with City Hall officials in the Nevada Desert pointing out that an influential figure was about to hit town... a former member of the British Parliament, one-time Lord Mayor of Newcastle, and chairman of a most influential football club.

Consequently shortly after we arrived a message winged its way to our hotel. McKeag was to be awarded the Freedom of the City of Las Vegas with a symbolic silver key the official gift of recognition. Obviously the propaganda had worked.

Of course it's no good being honoured if no one knows about it so, as the local hack back home, I was invited to join McKeag on his trip downtown along with Shack, a footballer he had doted upon.

Ten o'clock the following morning a big limousine drew up at the hotel complete with six police motorcycle outriders - all very grand - and we winged our way down The Strip to City Hall where we were met with due ceremony.

The Mayor, a guy who looked vaguely like Giant Haystacks, underwent a terrific spiel about what an honour it was to host Mr William McKeag and finished by producing the key to the city with a great flourish. Naturally our Newcastle ambassador replied with great Churchillian delivery and at some considerable length. I swear a couple of the gun-toting Vegas cops nodded off at one time.

When he had finished the Mayor turned to Shack and myself.

"Hi, guys," he boomed. "Here's a key each for you. Have a good day now!"

So Leonard Francis Shackleton and John Gibson were awarded the Freedom of the City of Las Vegas along with William McKeag. Not that I reported the fact in the Chron when we got back!

Shack was a class entertainment act throughout our stay in the gambling capital of the world.

A footballer renowned for his ball control, he nudged me one night as we walked into the hotel bar.

"Say nowt," whispered Len. "Just keep talking to me."

With that he put his hand in his trouser pocket, pulled out a coin, and flicked it into the air. Without looking he caught the falling coin on the instep of his foot, flicked it up again, leaned forward, and the coin dropped into the top pocket of his jacket. I could see one or two punters staring in disbelief before nudging their mates.

Shack did it twice more before the bar was in uproar. The Yanks nicknamed him Yorkshire because of where he came from and we never paid for another drink in the joint for the rest of our trip.

Shack famously signed for Sunderland after leaving Newcastle of course and he had undertaken a close season trip to America when, because he was an entertainer supreme, he was paid appearance money each game by Sunderland's hosts.

Shack had opened a bank account on the other side of the Atlantic and never touched the money...until now. He used to knock on my door at night dressed like the star he was in a monogrammed shirt bearing the initials LFS and off we would go to see the shows on The Strip bolstered by his considerable financial backing.

We saw Sammy Davis Jnr, the most professional of artists, and Judy Garland, the most befuddled. Judy, bless her, was no longer walking down the yellow brick road but was suffering greatly from the effects of bodily abuse. The Yanks, however, would forgive her everything and she received a standing ovation just for remembering to face the front when she sang.

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Len Shackleton - the genuine footballing legend with the freedom of Las Vegas - Chronicle Live