At 1.29pm tomorrow, Manchester City fans must honour the Munich victims, including a legendary goalkeeper from their own club

Is 60 seconds beyond us? Is it really true that we are incapable of sparing a single minute for sorrow and respect? Is it even possible that a brief tribute to a sad event long past, a tribute asking nothing more than nothing at all, will prove to be beyond our capabilities?

We couldn’t manage it at Wembley in midweek at the England match. There, the minute’s silence turned out to be 27 seconds of effing and blinding. Tomorrow, another minute will be attempted as Manchester United play Manchester City at Old Trafford.

The shame of it is that we all fear the worst. We fear that the silence, intended to commemorate, however briefly, the death of 23 people as a result of the Munich air crash 50 years ago, will be a step too far and that a vast global audience will watch England fouling its own grief.

The fact that our capacity for keeping silent is even in doubt is a desperate thing. What does it say about the culture of English football if so small a thing seems even mildly difficult, much less impossible?

There are a thousand reasons for hoping that silence will win and first among them is the truth that the Munich disaster does not belong to United alone. It belongs also to the city of Manchester, to all of English football, to all of England, to all of sport. Perhaps the City fans will see it that way – especially the city of Manchester part.

But if not, there’s Frank. Frank Swift was a City player; he, too, died in Munich that sad day. By then he was working as a journalist for the News of the World. He was 44. He was also a great player and he was City through and through.

He was a man worth keeping quiet for. Of imposing build, he was a goalkeeper who, it was said, made his goal look the size of a matchbox. He could pick up a football with one hand. He made 378 appearances for City, along with 19 for England and 14 in wartime internationals. He was so excited when he won the FA Cup with City in 1934 that he fainted – there’s commitment. He won the first division title with City in 1937 – there’s achievement. He was great, but at least he’d had his career, at least he’d had his glory. The eight players who died in Munich had barely begun their careers, their lives. The team who died on the very edge of greatness; it is a thing worth remembering for its own sake, no matter what your parochial allegiances.

But if that is a concept too far for Manchester City fans, let shutting up for Frank suffice.

Right now, football fans all over the country are standing up and saying: “What about us? Don’t we deserve some consideration here? Don’t we count for anything these days?”

The Premier League’s plan to have each club play a match a season in some foreign field has upset many. We read of nothing but outraged feelings, hurt and anger. “How could they do this to us? Don’t they value us? Aren’t we people who matter? Don’t you have any respect for who we are and what we do?” It’s an interesting question for football, economically and spiritually.

Perhaps even morally. But as football fans demand respect, the entire question of whether they are actually worthy of it will be asked at Old Trafford tomorrow afternoon.

Is 60 seconds of silence really beyond the abilities of salt-of-the-earth football fans? If respect for the grief and traditions of others is not sufficient stimulus to quiet, we must hope that respect for the memory of Swift will be enough – enough to spare pain and embarrassment for Manchester City, the city of Manchester, English football fans, all football and all England. >>>>>