I found the following image and it reminded me of my own experiences of playing football at school. I have a vivid memory of being forced to wear damp left over sports kit from the shower room as was the usual price for not having brought my own kit such as it was (i.e my brother's hand-me-downs) from home and being made to play in goal. My sports master, I assume working on the basis that it was doubtful given the team selection that I would ever see the ball let alone have to touch it in order to stop someone scoring. In this case I recall not being able to actually see the opposite goal it was so foggy. My shorts, a fetching dark navy hung down past my knees and the strip was a vest of perhaps grey or such faded white it had become of indeterminate colour. Football boots with screw in studs and of black hobnailed boot styled leather, over sized socks in the school colours of 'gold' and navy and a pair of gardening gloves to protect my delicate mitts in the unlikely event of my having to actually touch the hand sewn leather football with it's innertube and valve. I quickly realised that no-one was going to trouble me very much at the distant horizon of the pitch by the Thames Valley Police Station end and in fact could happily lean against the goalpost and roll up a cigarette without the wary eye of Mr Onions the sportsmaster being able to resort to yet another 'slippering' of yours truly. I also realised I wasn't entirely sure when the match had finished never mind the important matter of the score
I empathise with Sam Bartram who stood for a full 10 minutes alone on the pitch, not realising that the game had been abandoned due to heavy fog.
December 25th, 1937
My hero!
Hi Andy. Splendid stuff! Sam Bartram a Charlton Athletic legend. Ken Loach,via David Bradley & the wonderful Brian Glover,covered the reluctant footballer at school flawlessly in 'Kes' of course. Those spare kit baskets were a horror. Playing in someone else's standard issue plimsolls two sizes too big. Cheers! Why were all PE teacher from either the North or Wales?
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by Phil! I had quite forgotten the link to Kes which of course in some way I identified with also . . . . .school days, growing up on Merseyside etc a favourite. My ghosts and personal distant memories most summoned by the 'Long Day Closes' and Terrence Davies trilogy of films. Although I also seem to identify also with Roddy Doyle and Frank Mcourt so sort that lot out. I think it's cos I most resembled the wee lad from McCourt's 'Angela's Ashes'!! More the haircut than identifying with Ireland. Mind you there are stories about my being left outside a pub in a pram while my Irish grandfather popped in for a pint and being roundly boxed by my grandma who would chastise him for singing Irish nationalist songs around the tea table in his cups!
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