Part 2 of CW's Football Patch

Failing my 11 plus was no big deal for me; the questions didn’t make sense and I was more concerned with playing out. Mates would come knocking at our door asking “is your Ste coming out to play”, when mum answered the door, it was always “he was born with the name Stephen”. I would cringe at the bottom of the stairs and get my leg pulled by them all later on.

Unlike my elder brother it was no Grammar School for me; I was destined for Central Secondary Modern; a big school that did loads of sports, I couldn’t have been happier!

We had a lad in our team Gordon Anders, played number 8, who was the most stylish player I have ever played alongside. He styled himself on Geoff Hurst, but sadly for all Gordys style our strike partnership didn’t flourish and I found myself replaced by Roy Roberts. I hated Robbo after that, but eventually decided that I had to find another position to get back into the team.

I swallowed my pride and took up the Centre Half role; if I couldn’t have that Centre Forward shirt, I was going to make life hell for anyone who I ever came across who wore that number. Some of our interhouse games were straight out of the Italian League. Rattin from Argentina would have cringed at some of the hacking that went on. I learned a great lesson from all of that carnage though, and it was this, if you can’t take it; don’t give it!

I remember one afternoon, the whole school was shipped off to the local cinema to watch “Goal”, the film of England’s 1966 World Cup triumph. I had been fortunate enough to watch all the World Cup games at Goodison Park with my brother; including the semi final Germany and Russia and watched the giant Russian goalkeeper Lev Yashin and all the German team that a few weeks later took part in that epic final.

My best mate Geoff Wheldon, played right back in the school team and although an Arsenal fan, Wellie and me would “thumb it” along the East Lancs Road, up the M6 to the Preston roundabout and then onto Turf Moor to watch Burnley play. Could you imagine that happening nowadays? We even did it to watch some Central League games!

Off the pitch it was Subbutteo, we all played and the flat cardboard figures had been replaced with the plastic 3D versions. I still have my Burnley team, with the numbers I painted on their backs and a centre forward that I scratched all the hair off his head!

Me and Wellie would spend hours in the evening playing out our Burnley v Arsenal games, his mum made us coffee with milk and Blue Ribband chocolate wafers to keep us going. Our matches were played out to the sounds of Hendrix, Cream and Procol Harem blasting out on the record player.

Year 3 and still drifting along at school; but now the timetable included Careers lessons and a very significant event occurred. A visit had been arranged to go down Bold Colliery; down that pit was scary stuff and I made my mind up that I would buckle down, get some qualifications and avoid the black hole.

Next time up it’s the end of schooling; youth club football and girls!

Colinwaldron