Arguably the most famous Hungarian soccer player ever to grace the international fields was Ferenc Puskas. His was a glittering career culminating with him being voted one of the greatest football players by World Soccer magazine and having amassed a staggering 1,000 goals in his top-level football career. He was born 2nd of April 1927 and passed away from the effects of Alzheimer’s disease on 17th Novermber 2006, aged 79.
Puskas was a Hungarian household name for generations and, when I was younger, inspired characters in 1960s schoolboy comics such as “Boy’s World”, “The Hotspur” and “The Hornet”. He was an absolute legend along the lines of George Best, Pele and Maradona at a time when footballs were constructed of heavy leather with quagmires for pitches. To be a terror of the English and other National Team defences at a time when these teams were the best is the world
Ferenc Puskas
Klara, being of Hungarian descent, was inspired by Puskas to name one of her dogs after him. He appeared in her life years 5 before me, having been rescued in 1999 from neglect and abuse from a man Klara darkly suspects of acquiring dogs for illegal fighting rings. Puskas had a hard time dealing with men back then and cowered when anyone carrying a stick passed too close and frantically hid if a thunderstorm threatened. But, he became a faithful and loyal guardian to Klara. As she says, “He was my Boxing Day present” and he never looked back from that time.
Eventually he came to trust men and I was fortunate to be accepted by him when we both met in 2004. His were jaws of steel that could crush any bone and heaven help the hand that held a stick he wanted. With over 40Kgs of bodyweight he would leap up and those jaws would clamp closed on anything in the way. Thumbs, sticks, my chest (the stick was adjacent to my chest) and Klara’s other dog’s jowls. Back then, he was an absolute terror but a sweetheart: everyone’s favourite “strong and silent type.”
Unless you were a cat, that is. He’s killed at least two cats we know of (one right in front of me, but before I could make him drop it) and terrorised any cat within range of his sprinting stumpy legs. He’s also caught Padimelons, tried for Bush Turkeys and even teamed up with Almos to pull a Goanna off a tree. At home on the farm he has a reputation for burying bones everywhere as well as launching himself into the bush to chase god knows what, then appearing breathless half an hour later and in some panic he might be left behind. Oh yes, he also suffers from “abandonment issues”. He was as loyal a friend as you could wish.
Puskas, on guard at the farm.
Puskas passed away sometime on the morning of the 11th March 2011 while we were at work. He will be cremated and his ashes will be taken home to scatter near his favourite haunts: he had so many of them. His was a good life and I’m blessed to have known him.
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