lucky

The former Seat and Ford driver is part of a Toyota team that have already won the Manufacturers’ World Championship for the fifth year in a row.

And as so often happens in motorsport, Evans’ team-mates are also his closest rivals.

Rovanpera is the youngest ever world champion after winning back-to-back championships in 2022 and 2023.

Now 25 and in his final season before leaving WRC for new challenges, the Finnish driver has already won three rallies this year and will be ready to pounce on any mistakes from his team-mate.

Ogier, 41, is looking to tie Sebastien Loeb’s record of nine WRC titles. The Frenchman has won five rallies this season and led the championship before a crash at last month’s Central European Rally handed the advantage back to the Welshman.

Despite the competition, Evans says relationships are good.

“We all get on fairly well in the team,” he explained.

“Rallying is quite unique in that we’re racing against the clock rather than physically against each other on track.

“That normally means we get on a bit better in the background and the team has a very good atmosphere on the whole.

“Everything is shared among the drivers, so everything is very open and we tend to try and race it out on the stages, so normally we get on pretty well.”

Evans has been competing against the best of the best for years. If he is able to join his team-mates as a world champion the achievement will be monumental.

Fourteen years after his first WRC race he is as close as he has ever been to glory.

Evans will be hoping a journey that started in Dolgellau could have the greatest of endings in Jeddah via Japan.

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‘Could we still perform together?’

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Whether it’s wearing a specific jersey — or in the case of Yoshinobu Yamamoto’s interpreter, lucky boxers with a rabbit shooting a rainbow-colored laser out of its eyes — or making sure you’re watching the game from the spot on the couch, superstitions abound when it comes to sports, especially during the playoffs.

L.A. bleeds blue, and now that the Dodgers are facing off against the Toronto Blue Jays in the World Series, we want to hear your superstitions, actions and the lucky items you’re employing to help cheer the team on to victory.

Tell us your superstitions, and we might share your story in a future article.

Enter by filling out the form and tell us about your lucky item or whatever superstition or strategy you have to help the Dodgers win. You can even include a photo if you’re so inclined.

Max Muncy knew he had gotten lucky, after his ugly-looking knee injury earlier this month proved to be nothing more than a bone bruise.

But, when doctors explained how close he came to suffering something so much worse, from when Michael A. Taylor slid into his leg at third base on July 2, even Muncy was amazed by the infinitesimal margins.

“If the timing was just a millisecond different either way,” he was told, “you’re probably looking at surgery, and done for a long time.”

Instead, barely two weeks removed from having the outside of his knee bent inward on that play, Muncy was out doing early work at Dodger Stadium on Friday afternoon; running in the outfield, playing catch with coaches and performing agility drills in front of trainers without any obvious signs of pain or discomfort.

“We’re pleasantly, not surprised, but happy with the spot that I’m in right now,” Muncy said afterward, having also taken swings for the first time since his injury earlier on Friday afternoon. “It feels great. I’m moving well. Progressing quickly. We’re trying to be smart about it, and understand where we’re at, and what it’s gonna take to get back on the field. But we’re in a really good spot … We’re kind of right where we think we should be at.”

If not, it seems, already a few steps ahead.

While Muncy was initially expected to miss roughly six weeks with his left knee bone bruise, manager Dave Roberts struck a more optimistic tone as the Dodgers opened the second half of their season.

“He’s in great shape right now,” Roberts said Friday. “I don’t really know a timeline. But I do know … it’s going to be a lot sooner than anticipated, which is good for all of us.”

Since Muncy — who was one of the hottest hitters in baseball in May and June — got hurt, the Dodgers have not looked like the same offense. In their last 11 games entering Saturday, the club was 3-8, averaging less than three runs per game, and struggling to fill the gaping hole their slugging third baseman has left in the middle of the lineup.

Since the start of July, only the penny-pinching Pittsburgh Pirates have been worse than the Dodgers in batting average (.205) and OPS (.594).

“We’ve still got a lot of good players,” Roberts said. “But yeah, there’s a certain line of demarcation when Max is not in the lineup, what happens to our offense.”

The Dodgers’ problems, of course, go beyond Muncy’s absence. Shohei Ohtani, Mookie Betts and Freddie Freeman have all been slumping of late (or, in Betts’ case, for much of the season). Teoscar Hernández and Tommy Edman have been nowhere near their typical standard since returning from injuries in May. And the depth options the Dodgers have called upon have provided few sparks of life.

Still, Muncy figures to be a linchpin in the Dodgers’ long-term potential at the plate — with his recovery growing ever-steadily in importance as the rest of the lineup flounders in his wake.

“We got to figure out how to get something going,” said outfielder Michael Conforto, chief among the Dodgers’ underachievers this season. “Every time we go out there, we expect to score, and that’s what we’ve been doing all year. It’s just one of those stretches [where it’s] a little bit tougher to get runs in. But, you know, obviously, we have faith in our guys, and some big names in here that made their careers on scoring runs and driving guys in. I think we’ll be OK.”

Muncy, of course, is one of those proven names.

And in another fortunate stroke with his recovery, he remains confident his injury won’t significantly impact his swing once he does come back.

“If [the injury] was on the inside of the knee, it’d probably be a different story,” Muncy said. “But just being on the outside, I think it’s a good spot, knowing that I don’t feel it at all when I’m pushing off on the backside.”

Muncy tested that theory for the first time Friday, taking some light swings in the cage that he said “felt fine.”

“It’s a lot of work, more work than actually playing in the game, which always sucks,” Muncy said of his rehab process. “But it’s that way for a reason … You don’t want to have any other injuries that are a side effect from it.”

So far, even that latter concern has been quelled, with Muncy noting that “there’s no lingering side effects with it.”

“All in all,” he reiterated, “we’re about as lucky as we could be.”

‘Centuries ago people used to say, ‘In three days the Piešťany water will either heal you or kill you.’” My guide Igor Paulech is showing me around Spa Island – a hot-spring haven in the middle of the Váh River that runs through Piešťany, Slovakia’s most prestigious spa town. Just an hour north of Bratislava by train, the town and its spa-populated island are packed with grand art nouveau and art deco buildings.

There’s a faint aroma of sulphur in the air as Igor paces ahead, past peacocks and ponds full of lilies, imparting his home town’s history. The hot water that springs from beneath the island sandbank has created what we’re all here for: a blueish medicinal mud that’s rich in hydrogen sulphide and sulphur.

Slovakia is gaining an international reputation for its affordable and high-quality spa treatments. I’m here to visit three of its leading spa towns, travelling entirely by rail. The journey from London is straightforward and took less than 24 hours thanks to the new European Sleeper route that leaves Brussels for Prague three nights a week, and a direct train from Prague to Piešťany.

On checking in at the Thermia Palace, the history of this grand 113-year-old hotel and neighbouring Irma Health Spa is immediately apparent. Photographs of maharajas, politicians and singers who have visited are on display, and a painting donated by Alfonse Mucha, the Czech artist whose work defined the art nouveau style, hangs in the hotel’s dining room. His daughter came here regularly for the balneotherapy (mineral-water hydrotherapy), and there is a small museum on Spa Island dedicated to his work.

I’m assigned to Dr Alena Korenčíková, who immediately notices I have hypermobility and draws up a personalised programme that includes visits to the thermal bath, filled with sulphuric mineral water, and the hot-mud pool. I’m also prescribed daily CO2 injections. Known as carboxytherapy, this treatment is meant to help muscle recovery and tissue regeneration; my rock-hard shoulders feel noticeably looser afterwards. And finally, I’m prescribed a mud-pack treatment, which is recommended for reducing swelling and inflammation, and nourishing the joints. When I explain that I’m going to Trenčianske Teplice and hope to continue mud treatment there, Dr Alena says: “They have peat, it’s not the same as ours.” Time to fine-tune my mud knowledge.

As I submerge myself in the warm cloudy water, my toes squish into the mineral mud that is pumped directly from the mud kitchen (where it’s treated) into the vast circular pool. The building is as thrilling as the bathing. The 19th-century dome above the pool is the spa’s stunning centrepiece, with stained glass art deco skylight windows sitting high up on the art nouveau walls decorated with tiles, floral motifs and cherubs. Piešťany is just as much about architecture as about bathing, it seems.

Local architect Eva Rohoňová cements this theory the following day, when she shows me around the extraordinary House of Arts, a colossal piece of 1970s brutalism that houses the town’s concert hall and cultural centre. “It’s far too big a capacity for just people from Piešťany,” she says. “The Czechoslovakian government built it here as the town was full of international visitors. It was to demonstrate the culture.” She has been giving tours of otherwise inaccessible interior spaces to locals over the years, but anyone can arrange one through the Visit Piešťany website.

After three mud-packed days, I take a train north to Trenčianske Teplice just outside Trenčín, one of next year’s European Capitals of Culture. I’m instantly taken by the picturesque spa town with its mix of baby pink and peachy orange 19th-century guesthouses and angular 1960s concrete hotels. Daniel Oriešek from the tourist board shows me around. I point out the steady stream of visitors carrying walking poles. “It’s not the Tatras, but people come here for hiking,” he says, alluding to Slovakia’s West Carpathian range which forms a scenic backdrop to the town.

They also come to bathe at the Sina hammam, an ornate Turkish bathhouse that looks as though it could have been teleported here from Istanbul. It was in fact built in 1888 and designed by František Schmoranz Jr, an Austrian architect of Czech origin who had spent several years living in Egypt and was a leading expert on Islamic architecture and decorative arts.

I’m ushered in and shown to the pool, where an unexpected delight greets me: a huge socialist-era mural that covers one entire wall. I soak in the water and copy the locals, who splash their faces with water from the source in the middle of the pool. Afterwards, my skin looks and feels fantastic and, with an entry price of just £12.50, I’m already plotting my next visit as I exit the building.

The next day I catch a train to Žilina, a city in the north of the country, where I disembark to hop on a bus for Rajecké Teplice. It’s a village compared with Piešťany and only has the one spa, Aphrodite, but that spa is truly unlike anywhere else I’ve been. Lovingly maximalist, with Roman-style columns, mosaics and gold decor that glimmers in the crisp spring sunshine, this is the Vegas of spa resorts. “When you are lying on a sunbed on a hot summer day and take a cold dip in the pool, it’s like you’re not in Slovakia,” says staff member Radka Capkova. “Everyone knows Slovakia has lots of spas, but it’s usually older people who want to go. But our spa is so famous that we get younger people here taking photos.”

It’s a huge complex of 11 saunas, three restaurants, an outdoor swimming pool and Nature Land, where bathing is naked after 5pm. I feel far too British for this, but wearing a bikini to a sauna is a firm no in central Europe, so I collect a sauna sheet and tuck it around myself like a sarong. Capkova encourages me to attend one of their “sauna ritual” events (or Aufguss) and get over the nudity: “No one stares or looks,” he says.

I go to the hottest ritual, where the sauna master swirls around like a figure skater, splashing orange, lemongrass and yuzu water over the hot coals as pop songs blast out and everyone claps along – the camaraderie is so infectious that I quickly forget everyone is naked.

“My great-great-grandmother, my great-aunt, my mother, everyone worked here at some point,” Capkova tells me. Rajecké Teplice is the smallest of the spa towns I’ve been to, but it has a big community impact. Spas are just in the blood in Slovakia. “But in the UK you don’t go to the spa?” It’s a question I get asked a lot throughout this week. “We’re working on it,” I always reply.

The trip was provided by Visit Piešťany, Trenčianske Teplice Regional Tourism, Spa Aphrodite and Byway Travel (byway.travel). A bespoke 10-day tour of Slovakia costs from £2,012pp, including transport and some accommodation

Mirra Andreeva thanked a fan for gifting her a “lucky charm” before her French Open third-round victory against Yulia Putintseva.

The Russian world number six had a small colourful fabric patch with floral patterns on her bench during her 6-3 6-1 win over Kazakh 32nd seed Putintseva.

“When I was walking on court a little girl put a drawing on my bench and I kept it. It’s my lucky charm,” the 18-year-old said.

“Wherever that little girl is, I want to thank her because it is my lucky charm.”

Andreeva is playing in her third French Open, having lost to Jasmine Paolini in the semi-finals last year.

She is one of the in-form players in Paris, claiming titles at Indian Wells and the Dubai Open earlier this season.

She broke Putintseva’s serve three times in the first set and again for a 2-1 lead in the second before a brief rain delay.

After the players returned Putintseva briefly rallied to lead 3-2, but Andreeva won the next four games to cruise into the fourth round, where she will face good friend Daria Kasatkina.

Kasatkina, competing in her first Grand Slam since switching allegiance to Australia from Russia, beat Spain’s Paula Badosa 6-1 7-5.

WASHINGTON — In the wake of the Murphy Brown uproar, Vice President Dan Quayle has delivered another double-barreled commotion. First, in the past 10 days, he has made two more fire-breathing speeches on family values, one to a convention of Southern Baptists and the other to a National Right to Life gathering. Second, he has demonstrated he does not know how to spell potato .

My West Coast sources say politically aware people in the entertainment industry have made up their minds about the vice president’s “values” theme: It will not play in Peoria. Quayle’s distasteful traditionalist fervor, in this view, simply does not reflect the ethics or concerns of most Americans. Besides, how can you take a man seriously who doesn’t know the names of his vegetables?

But Quayle’s critics are kidding themselves, trying to suppress the message by deriding the messenger. They may think the vice president’s misspelling marks him as an irredeemable jerk, but many of his fellow citizens are not so sensitive, and some will even sympathize with him. (Pop quiz: Is it potatos or potatoes ?)

The same critics are surely right in seeing considerable daylight between most Americans’ general moral posture and the pungency of some of Quayle’s stronger words. Nonetheless, the “values” card might not only help the Bush-Quayle reelection effort, it may even play a moderating role in the campaign.

In his speeches, Quayle again criticized the “cultural elite” that “flees from the consequences of its self-indulgence.” But he also expanded on the idea of this elite as an alien force in American life. The country is made up, he said, of “the cultural elite, and the rest of us.” The elite “mock us in the newsrooms, sitcom studios and faculty lounges,” but “we Americans” must “stand up for our values, stand up for America.” The American people are “playing David to the Goliath of the dominant cultural elite,” he exhorted, “but remember the final outcome” of that battle: “The Philistines fled.”

This is unattractive stuff. It says only the people on Quayle’s side of the argument can lay legitimate claim to the label “American.” One of our worst national characteristics in politics is the tendency to read our opponents out of the rolls of American citizenship–and parts of the Quayle speeches serve as fair examples of this nasty habit.

But the recent Quayle sorties, despite the rough language, are not the beginning of a crusade–which would fail–to Puritanize American life. Instead, speeches like his accomplish two other things.

First, such talk shores up the Bush Administration’s base among social conservatives. They are not a majority in America, but they constitute a Peoria in which the vice president’s ideas will play to standing-room-only crowds. Solidifying a core constituency is a prudent thing to do for an electorally weak Administration facing a three-way presidential race. In olden times, national politicians could do this type of cheerleading in obscurity, with their most inflammatory words heard only by the special groups they were addressing. But now, because of modern communications, we are constantly eavesdropping on each other’s private political conversations.

Second, Quayle’s theme promises benefits for the Administration’s campaign even among many who do not share his moral fervor but do share a general unease with TV, movies and a popular culture that seems out of control. Often these are the same people now lured, to the Administration’s discomfort, by the siren song of Ross Perot.

Perot, it is becoming clear, is a strange man. He has displayed an authoritarian temperament in his business and public life and in the preemptory ways he proposes to deal with problems ranging from entitlements to the cost of U.S. troops abroad. He is cavalier about constitutionally rooted civil liberties and about institutions with which the Constitution says a President must share power. The different versions he gives of his own life are starting to make Ronald Reagan’s lapses in this area look trivial and benign.

In short, Perot is dangerous. Moreover, his attitudes do not reflect the considered views of the electorate: Americans of all kinds remain massively attached to the basic features of the American system. Yet Perot maintains his political strength because he has succeeded in presenting himself as the ultimate outsider to a citizenry that has been brought to mistrust all insiders.

We know today’s citizens are increasingly alienated from their government and public officials. Many Americans have come to see today’s politics and government as one vast sinkhole of incompetence and corruption. Even with the large problems our nation faces, this despair is out of proportion.

There is more than one reason for this mistrust, which has been building for a quarter-century. But the “cultural elite” cannot deny having had a hand in shaping it. If popular culture has shaken tradition regarding sexual morality, parts of the elite have also mounted a challenge in the arena of conventional politics.

To take the largest example, the national press, since Watergate, has given news consumers an unending stream of political scandal. Yet national politics is, by most measures, far cleaner than it was 25 years ago. But there is no way that newspaper readers and TV viewers absorbing this reportage can escape thinking that today’s politicians are incorrigibly dirty.

The view we get from movies that deal with politics is even darker, ranging from simple corruption to grand conspiracies to steal the presidency from the American people. “The “faculty lounges” that Quayle cited are, like the sitcoms, a mixed bag, but some major university campuses have been seedbeds for critiques of the profound structural racism, sexism and imperialism said to infest our conventional social and political institutions.

Those who have purveyed this radical political disaffection may have hoped it would lead to a more just America. Instead, what they begot was Perot, and they should recognize him as their child.

By pounding away at the theme of the cultural elite vs. America’s traditional values, Quayle is asserting that the Administration should be seen not as a bunch of political insiders but as the champion of all those cultural outsiders who feel denigrated and ignored by the media and popular culture. In other words, he argued that voters should exempt him and President George Bush from the “insider” curse of 1992.

More important, in appealing to traditional values, Quayle took the quickest and most powerful route to generally delegitimizing what have been called the “chattering classes” and casting grave doubt on whatever comes out of their collective mouths. Once people are reminded of how little they trust the “cultural elite,” they can be persuaded to exercise this mistrust in other areas. If members of the elite are insensitive to issues of family values, there is no reason to think them trustworthy on general politics. If they say American politics stinks, they should not be believed any more than they should be trusted on the issue of sex.

But if American politics does not stink in the way Hollywood says it does, then Perot should not get credit for being the outsider who champions the people against the Establishment. To the contrary: Perot can be portrayed as a creature of the cultural elite and its cynical view of American political life. His contempt for other politicians and his insistence on his unique ability to save us are perhaps messages not from the majority of Americans, but from an elitist fringe. Quayle has actually started in on this idea, chiding Perot for not showing sufficient respect for the Constitution.

If this strategy works, the “family values” issue will have tapped into some of the same anti-Establishment voter anger to which Perot appeals and will shake Perot loose from his position as the embodiment of average people’s sentiments. Even for those who do not like some of Quayle’s recent speeches, this is probably a good trade.

With a vast and notable lists of credits under her hat from over the years of her career, Dame Patricia Hodge opens up about her newest TV stint starring in BBC1’s newest drama Death Valley

Murder is no laughing matter for Patricia Hodge, who will be playing the role of Helena in the new BBC1 Saturday night drama Death Valley, starring Timothy Spall.

A veteran of long-running shows including Poirot, Miss Marple, Waking the Dead and Inspector Morse, she says of Death Valley: “It is sort of that new genre of humorous murder mysteries, which is quite a difficult thing to get your head around, because I don’t think there is anything funny about murder. But it’s a new popular thing.

“It was lovely working with Tim Spall, who is a darling. Anyway, I am interested to see how it pans out. I am not the new Vera, though!”

READ MORE: BBC TV star opens up on neurodiversity battle as she admits ‘I have ADHD’

Patricia, 78, filmed around Cardiff for the show, which follows eccentric retired actor John Chapel (Spall) and detective sergeant Janie Mallowan (Gwyneth Keyworth) as they form an unlikely, and often comedic, crime-solving partnership working in and around the Welsh valleys.

Specific details of Patricia’s role are being closely guarded, but she is one of a number of guest stars and, with her vast experience of crime drama, she is sure to add to the intrigue.

Despite being close to 80, the star of A Very English Scandal is also busy working on another BBC murder mystery series, The Marble Hall Murders, based on the Anthony Horowitz books.

Patricia, whose movie credits include Four Weddings and a Funeral and The Elephant Man, clearly loves working. “Work is what we are,” she says. “I sort of like being challenged. I don’t want to sit on the back foot. I want to sit on the front foot.

“I am filming this new Anthony Horowitz thing at the moment, The Marble Hall Murders, and I have been filming in Dublin and Greece, and I have never been to Greece, so that has been lovely. I am very lucky to work. Work engages me.”

She is also acclimatising to life without her husband, music publisher Peter Owen, who died aged 85 in 2016, after suffering from dementia. Downton Abbey star Patricia cared for him until his death and has helped raise awareness of dementia.

Speaking movingly in the past about her feelings of guilt over not being able to prevent her husband’s memory loss, which eventually meant he couldn’t recognise her, Patricia is not interested in finding anyone else.

She says of her loss: “It is always a big adjustment, isn’t it? We had over 40 years together, and it is now coming up to nine years (without Peter). I am not looking (for anyone new). It is not on my radar at all. I don’t know what I feel, really. I have wonderful friends. I am very lucky to work.”

Besides acting, Patricia has been committed to supporting Historic Royal Palaces – the charity which oversees the restoration of ageing ancient palaces, held in trust for the nation by King Charles and the Royal Collection. She enjoys seeing new life being breathed into these impressive sites, for the nation to enjoy.

Patricia, who lives in Barnes, south west London, continues: “I was on the development board of the Historic Royal Palaces when it came out of the public purse and was given charity status. It suddenly made all these palaces belong to the nation again. And they gave them public ownership.

“I am no longer working on it, but it was amazing to be involved, and I would like to be involved again. I guess we only have so many hours in a day. During my time, we oversaw the opening of Kew Palace, which was so amazing because nobody had seen it before, and the things they uncovered, they did it so beautifully. I live in Barnes, so I am not far from it.”

Avid history lover Patricia was also keen to mark the 80th anniversary of VE Day. She says: “I stood on Hammersmith Bridge for the VE Day flypast and I watched the bombers come over. I was hit in the gut to think of what our parents went through. What they put up with and how they came through.”

Turning to more fickle matters, Patricia is keen to pay tribute to the man behind her meticulously well-groomed appearance. She says: “I have very enduring relationships. All my friendships go way back, so I have had the same hairdresser for years, since 1981. It is a man called Hugh Green.”

Immensely stylish, Patricia has an enviably ageless image. But she insists: “I have never, never lied about my age. I don’t think there’s any point, because people can find it out very easily.

“I think, better to rejoice in what you are rather than try and stifle it. And if people find out and they know you’ve been lying, then what else are you lying about? You know, far better to live and embrace the truth.”

Made an OBE in 2017 in the Queen’s Birthday Honours list for her services to drama, despite being widely regarded as acting royalty, Patricia likes to be known simply as “Hodge.”She says: ” The diminutives in Patricia are a nightmare. For the first 10 years of my life, I was called Patricia.

“Then I went to a school where, from day one, the teacher introduced me as Pat, without asking or anything. That was an automatic thing, that if you were called Patricia, you were called Pat.

“And then I got a bit tired of it, because actually Pat Hodge is not a great combo. When I went to drama school, I was called Trish or Trisha.

“There are a lot of people who just call me Hodge, and I think there’s only about two, if not three of us (Hodges) in the whole of equity. So now, when I answer the phone, I go, ‘Hodge.’”

Whether Hodge, Pat, Trisha, or Trish, asked if Dame Patricia Hodge has a certain ring to it, it becomes clear that if she gets another call from the Palace, this grande dame of British acting will take it in her stride.

She says: I don’t think about it. We should not get prizes for just doing a job. I am an OBE. Do you know what? If it happens, it happens.”

• The new series of Death Valley begins on BBC1 on Sunday, at 8.15pm.

READ MORE: 72-year-old shares delight at ‘plump and glowy’ skin after using £10 overnight cream for 2 weeks

FORMER Ipswich manager George Burley has received the all-clear following his cancer diagnosis.

The 68-year-old publicly announced his diagnosis in September but did not disclose the form of the disease.

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He said: “It has been a difficult time, but I am feeling much brighter now.

“In fact, I am able to get to matches at Portman Road and I am enjoying watching the team playing back in the Premier League.

“We are grateful to the club (Ipswich) for the support they have shown me and my family and I would ask that everyone is respectful of our privacy at this time.”

Burley, who played for Ipswich before managing the club, underwent six cycles of chemotherapy as well as an operation which left him in hospital for three weeks.

But the former defender has this week revealed that he is now cancer free.

He told BBC Radio Suffolk: “It’s been a long road – it didn’t happen overnight.

“It started almost a year ago where I was having symptoms and wasn’t feeling great.

“It was great to eventually come through it all – I’ve been very, very lucky with the amount of support I’ve had.

“My family’s been unbelievable… and I’ve been very well looked after.”

Burley felt unwell for several months before being diagnosed with cancer.

Opening up on the early stages of his battle, the Ipswich legend continued: “Eventually, when I did get diagnosed, I thought I’ve got to get on with it.

“The people around you, you’ve got to make sure you’re not moping around [and] keep their chins up.

“It’s not easy because initially you don’t want to speak much about it, but once you grow into it, people around you know you’re accepting the fact – and [you] get on with life as normal as possible.”

The Ipswich hero also said he was “lucky” his body responded to the treatment and believes the fitness levels he built up as a player helped him in his recovery.

Burley enjoyed spells with Sunderland, Gillingham, Motherwell, Ayr United, Falkirk and Colchester United as a player.

But his longest term came in the form of 13 years overall at Ipswich.

After hanging up his boots, he spent eight years as manager of the Tractor Boys.