Jack and Bobby Charlton’s Wembley hug was a pure moment for two tangled brothers

There is a photograph taken seconds after the final whistle had blown in the 1966 World Cup final that shows Jack and Bobby Charlton kneeling in exhausted embrace. It was taken by Albert Cooper, one of the Sun’s northern sports photographers, who had been sent to Wembley for the game. Denied pitch access, perched on a plank at the back of a stand. Too far from the action and struggling with a 300mm f5.6 Novoflex lens and no tripod, he shot pretty much nothing of any value that day until, with fans jumping all around him and the makeshift platform wobbling, he captured the brothers in the moment of their greatest triumph.

It is not, by his own admission, the sharpest shot. A dark triangle – a shoulder? A flag? – covers the bottom left of the uncropped image, but that only adds to the sense of intimacy. For this is an extraordinary moment. There, amid 100,000 celebrating fans, before television cameras broadcasting the game around the world, are two of England’s greatest ever sportspeople, two brothers who had shared a bed through their childhood, locked in a moment of private ecstasy.

Who knows what was said then? The accounts they subsequently gave were inconsistent. According to Bobby, he said: “Our lives will never be the same.” According to Jack he said: “What is there to win now?” Who knows what was felt? Joy? The emptiness that follows the completion of a quest? Did they think back to their home on Beatrice Street in Ashington? Of their parents in the stand – of their mother, Cissie, who was always with them, and of their father, Bob, who was so doggedly committed to his sense of duty that he had missed most of the semi-final because he was down the pit?

Neither ever, in hundreds of interviews and public