Colin's healing hands

Photographs of other sporting greats adorn the walls. "Tony Greig," says Colin Kaye in reply to my question.

Apologetically, I explain that my failure to identify the former England cricket captain-turned-pundit is, lamely, my lack of sporting knowledge.

Returning to the black and white image, I see Tony's elbow in Colin's healing hands. Casting my eyes along the gallery of photographs and newspaper cuttings I see former Huddersfield Town and Everton professional Dave Hickson's leg receiving similar treatment.

A striking signed, framed photograph of Yorkshire cricket legend Brian Close is also among the montage of famous sportsmen. "He still pops in. He came in last week," says Colin, confirming how many of his clients have become friends.

Physiotherapist Colin is a bit of a marvel. Firstly he's 78 and despite the fact that he could have retired more than a decade ago he's still working. He has no intention of stopping, although he says he has had to limit his clients.

He treats six people a day and tells me he's having to turn people away because, unlike the golden years when he was running on to the pitch, treating troubled limbs, sponging down sweaty brows and stitching the injuries of the professional players of some of the county's top teams, youth is no longer on his side. "I get tired," says Colin, although he looks 20 years younger than his years.

Has working in such a relaxed and tranquil environment with only the drone of a deep heat machine and occasional chatter piercing the silence afforded Colin a stress-free life?

Or maybe it's those healing hands of his. Colin would never claim to have healing powers. No masseur, as they were called half a century ago when he started out in the profession, or physiotherapist, as they are referred to today, would do that. But Colin has a knack of finding and treating troublesome areas. "I can go to a muscle that is a little bit thick," he explains.

He believes it's a gift and one he has used since treating local footballers in the bedroom of his Huddersfield home in the days when he was a keen amateur footballer. "When I was a young lad before I went into the forces I had local footballers coming to me for treatment so I was doing it in a small way then," Colin recalls.

Sport became an integral part of his career, mainly through his connections. He credits his best pal, Olympic runner Derek Ibbotson, with introducing him to the sporting arena. During Derek's heyday, Colin accompanied him to competitions. "He was BBC Sportsman of the Year in 1957 and was the third man to break the four-minute mile," says Colin.

He was on hand to relax muscles and tend injuries and that's pretty much how his career took off.

During his four years in the RAF he gained his masseur qualifications. His first job when he left the forces was at the Turkish Baths in Dewsbury where he'd often manipulate the muscles of the Beckhams of bygone sporting days.

When the late Bill Shankly, then Huddersfield Town's football manager, heard of Colin's special touch he was quick to recruit him as team physio.

Later he was physiotherapist with Bradford Park Avenue, and later with Bradford City. "I was boot man and kit man!" laughs Colin, referring to the multi-tasking physios had to do during those bygone sporting days.

"I used to run on to the field to see to the footballers when they were injured."

Footballers aren't the only professionals to benefit from Colin's special touch. He spent eight years tending the players of Yorkshire County Cricket Club.

Ian Botham, whose biography is among the neat stack of sporting books in Colin's Bradford practice, and Geoff Boycott are some of the cricketing stars to experience Colin's hands-on treatment.

He appears pretty modest about the sporting greats he's treated over the years. "There are so many," he says.

Eventually he left the sporting arena to set up his own practice in Idle before moving to his current premises in Greengates.

His clients, many of them have been regulars for 30 or more years, come to Colin with neck and back problems. "Mostly discs and trapped nerves," he says.

I ask whether the profession has changed. Colin tells me the treatment is less hands-on, tending to be more exercise-related.

Considering his age he looks well and healthy. I'm amazed when Colin tells me he was suffering from stomach cancer three years ago. "I collapsed in Benidorm. I'd had no trouble until then and I just fell forward. I don't remember anything then other than waking up in hospital. I was in there four weeks then I came back to Bradford, went to the Bradford Royal Infirmary and they took half my stomach away," he says.

Within a few weeks he was back at work. "Well I enjoy it and that's half the battle," says Colin.

His only other complaint is a bad neck. "People come to me and I am worse than them sometimes!" he laughs.

I'm intrigued to know whether Colin ever intends retiring. "I don't know what I'd do if I retired!" he laughs.

My question about his most memorable moments prompts the reply "They've all been highlights for me. I could write a book!"

I couldn't leave without asking about his own method of relaxation. "Two pints every night - in moderation!" he smiles.