The marriage of my team, Hibernian FC, and the French International, Franck Sauzee, was one made in footballing heaven. Franck helped to revitalise an ailing club, providing classy leadership of the type not seen since the days of the legendary Pat Stanton, who was dubbed by Manchester United manager Tommy Docherty as "better than Bobby Moore". Like his predecessor, "Le God" embodied the skill and spirit that Hibernian fans, known as the purists of the Scottish game, have always held in particular regard.
For his part, Franck's illustrious career was awarded a dramatic swansong at Easter Road. A European Cup winner and three times French League champion at Marseille, following spells at Atalanta in Serie A and at Strasbourg, Monsieur Sauzee was reckoned to be quietly playing out his career at Montpelier. At this point former Scotland international centre-half Alex McLeish, who had just taken over at relegated Hibs, asked him to join them in the Scottish Division 1. If Franck was ignorant of Hibernian, he was enough of a gent to keep it to himself and talk to "Big Eck".
Something must have impressed him, for soon Le God was turning out against the likes of Hamilton Accies in an attempt to spearhead the Hibees' return to Scotland's top flight. Not only did he succeed, he led the club back to their birthright of European football. Hibs had been the first British side in European competition, reaching the semi-final of the European Cup in 1956.
I was personally privileged to see Gods like Stanton, Joe Baker (in his fleeting second coming) and George Best wear the green jersey, and have watched live football regularly for 40 years all over the world. Franck "Dieu" Sauzee is one of the classiest acts I've been privileged to witness.
There's little doubt that the fresh challenge reinvigorated Franck as a player. At Hibs, his legs may have been heavier than of old, but like all gifted footballers easing into the veteran years, he made up for this with his incredible vision and anticipation. Sauzee invariably sensed exactly where the ball was going next and made everything look so easy. Instead of dictating from the midfield, he stepped back to do it from the sweeper's position, yet still loved to surge forward and was always a goal threat.
Striding on to the park like a casual colossus, his presence was simultaneously an inspiration and a calming influence on those around him, both on the field and in the stands. Some players often appear bigger than their chosen sport; they have a grace and presence that seems to throw aside the shackles of its limitations. Franck Sauzee possessed the bearing of a man who truly understood not just the beautiful game, but the world in general and his place in it.
There is one incident that for me summed up the player and the man; the Edinburgh derby, Hibernian versus Heart of Midlothian, and Le God rising for a cross to send a powerful loping header from the edge of the box over the hapless Hearts keeper for a sensational goal.
The amazing thing was that while the stadium erupted, Sauzee himself knew little about this. His jaw had collided with a Hearts defender's skull (and "Jambos" have very thick skulls indeed) and as the ball sailed into the net he was knocked unconscious with his front teeth flying out on to the Easter Road turf.
The crowd went delirious but in the strangest way; derby goal celebrations tinted with apprehension. The question on all our lips: was Franck okay? But the stunned Frenchman refused to come off. Receiving treatment and getting back on his feet, a vampire Sauzee gave a wave of acknowledgement to the crowd in a belated goal celebration as the stadium reverberated with the mantra "there's only one Sauzee". He then proceeded to give a masterclass as Hibs eased to a 3-1 victory, wholehearted in his tackles, going up for headers as if nothing previously untoward had happened. If there was anything that matched the sublime skills he displayed, it was his courage and enthusiasm for the Hibernian cause.
Franck quickly grasped how much the Edinburgh derbies against Hearts meant to the fans, and he loved to beat them as much as any native "Leither", the name given to inhabitants of the old dock area of Edinburgh where Hibs draw much of their traditional and most fanatical support. It was probably playing central defence alongside archetypal Leith man John "Yogi" Hughes, an uncompromising hitman of a player, as different from Franck as chalk and cheese, that helped Le God appreciate the importance of the derby victories, and the crucial notion that they had to be won in style. He would never be on the losing side against Hearts. Another sublime moment was his celebration in the 3–0 millennium derby win at Tynecastle stadium, when, following a great strike, Franck ran the full length of the pitch to carouse with the fanatical away supporters gathered in the stand behind the other goal.
He also led the club to the famous 6-2 thrashing of Hearts, the greatest derby massacre since Hibs' legendary 7-0 victory at Tynecastle back in 1973. Hibs and Sauzee were unstoppable. Engineered by Franck, they were inspired by the striking power of current manager Mixu Paatelainen, who grabbed a hat-trick, and Le God's soulmate in premium skilful football, Russell Latapy, the "little magician" of Trinidad and Tobago.
Like most great love affairs, there was the obligatory tragic end. Hibs hit one of their periodic financial crises, and fan power cajoled Franck into taking the manager's post. I think that he did this for the supporters and against his own better judgment. It didn't work out. Hibs were back in boom-bust mode, shipping their top earners and bringing through untried youngsters. It was the harshest possible environment to learn the managerial trade. The board panicked and gave Franck no chance to turn around the club's fortunes, dismissing him after only 11 games. Whether or not he would have been a success as a manager remains unestablished.
It was an unfortunate close to such a great relationship between the player and the club. However, far from diminishing the love the fans have for Franck, this has grown stronger over the years as, in his absence, we realise just how special he was. You can't go on any of the supporters websites without somebody pining for him and wondering when he's coming "home" to Edinburgh.
I recall attending a send-off for Franck at the stadium, where myself and the actor Dougray Scott, a Hibs fanatic, were privileged to spend some time chatting with him. Like most of the fans present, I was taken by his great charm and his obvious love for the club and its supporters. He was more than just a great player, Sauzee was one of us and he always will be. I dedicated my novel Porno to him, and sent a signed copy to Franck at his home in Provence. At the time he was in the restaurant business; now he's regularly appearing as an soccer analyst on French television.
Like all Hibernian supporters, I'm desperate to see him back at Easter Road soon. I think Franck stays away out of respect for the current group of players, who would have to put up with the entire crowd singing "there's only one Sauzee" and saluting up to the directors box, while ignoring events on the field. For a man who unfailingly comes across as a genuine, modest and decent human being, that kind of fanatical adulation, removed from the context of active service on the field, might understandably be just a little galling. Perhaps though, now that his old colleague Mixu is in the manager's chair, Le God might just be tempted back for a visit. And what a wonderful day that'll be.
