FOR those of us of a certain age this week the light went out on another gifted individual who lit up our childhood years.

It is turning into one of those years – David Bowie, Johan Cruyff and now Roger Millward.

Millward’s passing may not have grabbed the same global headlines as the pantheon of household names that have sadly departed this year, but the sincere and heartfelt response from all quarters of the rugby league community showed the mark of the man.

As a child watching rugby league in the 1970s, Millward was one of those figures that jumped out of our black and white screen on a murky Floodlit Trophy Tuesday night or Grandstand.

And it was not simply because commentator Eddie Waring managed to roll the Rs and elongate and mispronounce the vowels every time Roger the Dodger got the ball.

In a game played by big men, Millward’s stature of 5ft 4 in his stocking feet stood out. He was a master schemer and very much the dodger to live up to Waring’s monicker, weaving through those big fellas, directing, thinking and organising.

Traditionally half backs are terriers, players whose faces would stand clogging, and often they have qualities that make them rile the opposition. That is the nature of the beast, but Millward was not like that.

In fact he was one of those players you wanted to see on the opposition teamsheet simply to see a craftsman at work – but he was not always on the other side.

When I first started going to the games in 1978 Millward was captain of the Great Britain side when Ashes tests were the pinnacle of the sport.

In the first test at Wigan, after the two pugnacious sevens Steve Nash and Tommy Raudonikis were sent off early in the second half for scrapping like a pair of turkey cocks, Millward remained the unflappable organiser.

In the second test the veteran’s shrewd kick wide for Stuart Wright helped Great Britain to what would be their last win over the Kangaroos for 10 years.

It was his swansong as a test player but he still had some massive occasions in the Robins jersey, guiding them to the Challenge Cup Wembley win over Hull FC in 1980.

He took some hammer, too, in the days before the man in the stand, video ref and the match review panel, he copped a few high shots and that year he suffered three broken jaws.

The third of those came in the 13th minute of that final – but it did not stop him from masterminding that triumph, dropping a goal and then picking up the trophy.

An amazingly gifted player and, looking at the team he constructed from the late 70s into the mid 80s, an incredible coach too.

Roger Millward may have only been small in stature but his deeds and attitude have left a huge impression on the game.