I was 12 years old and traveled up to Southampton on the train from Yeovil in Somerset with two friends. That fact in itself is a sign of how times have changed. I would never have dreamed of allowing my children to make that journey unaccompanied at 12 years old but, in those days, parents did not see it as a problem. The game was at the "old" Dell of course, an anachronism of a stadium in the middle of a residential area of Southampton, middle class homes on the approach and a couple of blocks of flats overlooking the compact ground. No squalid back to backs here, it was a poor man's ground in an altogether better class of area.
For those who remember the old stadium, we parked ourselves in the family enclosure, one of the concrete "chocolate boxes" at the Milton Road end of the ground. This afforded a great view of the stadium from a usefully elevated position. En route we had eaten at a narrow little cafe in the arcade of shops outside the station before getting into the ground a good two hours before kick-off. Time to digest every word and every image in the programme, dwelling over the pen pic profiles of the West Ham squad and to munch our way through chocolate provisions whilst discussing the threats in the Southampton team. Sadly that programme was lost many years ago when my mother decided to have a "tidy up" whilst I was away at University and the Southampton team is now a blur, but I remember it included a forty something Terry Paine and that old warhorse Ron Davies. Presumably Channon played too, the "star name" in the Southampton team at that time. Did Galbraith play? I think so. If any Southampton fans look in, would be great to know your team and to hear your memories of the game if you were one of the 20,506 in the stadium.
As for the West Ham team, well for Hammers fans of my age, the teamsheet is a roll call of immortals: Ferguson; McDowell; Lampard; Bonds; Taylor; Moore; Redknapp; Best; Hurst; Brooking; Pop Robson. I honestly could have trotted off that team without any reference to the record books - bar one. I do not remember Redknapp playing. In my memory, he had gone the season before but that just shows how the memory can play tricks on you! I was only 12 after all! The substitute was also interesting, one David Llewellyn who managed just 2 starts and four appearances as substitute before moving on to Peterborough. Anybody remember seeing him play? He came on for Brooking in this game, which might explain the bad mood of "Sir Trev" when I met him after the game!
The game was a remarkable affair and summed up the two teams perfectly. Goals from Bonds, Best and Brooking gave us a 3-0 lead and put me in dreamland. All three goals were knocked in at our end and I was well on my way to one of those rarest of things, actually seeing West Ham WIN in the flesh! I have tried to part the clouds of time to remember how those goals were scored but the best I can come up with are that Best scored with a header amidst claims that he had fouled the keeper and Brooking netted with a low shot that went into the bottom left hand corner of the goal. From my position I wasn't sure the ball had actually gone in and from memory it was a real grubber. But that may not be how it happened at all!
Then it all went wrong. Maybe they actually invented Viagra decades before it was released onto the market because somebody definitely slipped something into the geriatric Terry Paine's cup of tea at halftime. He came out playing like a man possessed and ripped Lampard apart. I think Davies scored a couple from Paine crosses but I can't confirm that - Davies might even have bagged a hat-trick. Again, Southampton fans might be able to fill in the gaps. What is not in any doubt, because the records show it, is that Southampton fought back and scored three times to ruin my day. The final score - 3-3! Only West Ham!
I suppose the game itself and the day out as a 12 years old would have been enough to stamp the day in my memory but it was what followed that fixed December 11, 1971 indelibly into my hard drive. We arrived at the station to catch our train home and there, on the platform, was the entire West Ham team! Moore, Hurst, Robson, Ferguson, Brooking et all, kipper ties, pink shirts, outlandish coats, stupid haircuts, the works! I was in dreamland, running around collecting autographs on that programme that my thoughtless mother was to consign to a rubbish bin.
Moore was great, all smiles. So were Bonds and Ferguson. Pop Robson looked like a clown in his comb over and ankle length checked coat but was more than happy to scribble his name on the programme, even asking me my name so he could personalise it. Hurst wasa bit aloof but signed his name without looking at the page. The only one who refused to sign the programme? Trevor Brooking. As I ran along the platform at his side asking him to scribble on that programme, Brooking studiously ignored me and such was my focus on one of my all time heroes, that I all so nearly ran into one of the pillars holding up the roof of the station. For years afterwards, I had a recurring nightmare of banging into pillar after pillar on that platform as Brooking ignored me.
This memory stands out for me. Do you have any you would like to share? If so, drop me a line and we can journey down your memory lane as well!
12 comments:
Great account of what sounds a typical West Ham day out! Slightly before my time sadly (I started going to games when I was 9 in 1978), but what hits home is the irony of 'nice guy' Trev being the non-signing villain. You must have been gutted at the time as I would have been. I have heard so many stories from mates who all said what a gent Trev was when it came to signing autographs, how he chatted to them and always had time for them. Makes it all the more difficult to take if you get him on a rare 'off day'! Also, Hursty signing without looking must have stung a bit (although it's understandable I suppose when you think how many times the must have had to do it!). You are right to point out also, that being a kid in the seventies was very different to nowadays in that we were given much more freedom by our parents. I used to go to WH games with my mates, sometimes cycle 10 miles away from home, or stay out till it was dark playing footy and then have to walk 2 or 3 miles home! Doesn't really happen anymore. Thanks for the post, really enjoyed it.
As Mark Noble lined up his corner early in the second half last Saturday I said to my son. “Watch this........... James Tomkins....... header in the top right hand corner". It was the end of a story that started with “the great escape” and brought my son back into the fold. I used to stand on the weatherbeaten terraces back in the seventies, but this was my boy’s first match, and he was in a box, as the guest of a former player; how times change!
For him it was a day of firsts. First time on a train, first time on a tube and first time at the Boleyn. It felt like my first time at UP as well, so different was the ground from when I used to go regularly, We were very well looked after, three course meal, drinks, lap dancers.... no sorry, they didn't turn up; a bit different from the old days, first through the turnstiles and run for the best spot, packed lunch and read the programme from cover to cover.
I worry about the future, the crowd seemed to be almost entirely made up of middle aged men, a bit like the Conservative party and the blue rinse brigade, you wonder whether there will be much support left in a few years time! The corner of the BM lower next to what used to be the chicken run tried valiantly to get "Franco Zola's c&b army going" but it met with general apathy. We tried for a while and the corporate crowd seemed more vociferous than the locals, but you feel a bit of a lemon when the general conversation doesn't get much brighter than "Alright Bruv, that wind's a bit chilly innit?" What happened to the banter? The ground's lovely and comfortable and all that, but the atmosphere and the chat were as big a part of the day out as the match for me when I used to go regularly.
But last Saturday wasn’t about all our yesterdays. It was about a young Spanish hammer feeling the claret and blue sap rise in him as we watched the green shoots of another claret and blue renaissance. My lad loved it. "What are they singing Dad?" he said after one brutal challenge. "That'd be 'You dirty northern bastard' son" "Why are they singing that Dad?" Well that's..........because he's a.............. ;) but best not tell your Mum!".
He had put the visit to the Boleyn at risk with an April fools stink bomb that caused the evacuation of half the school, small children in tears and the headmistress on the phone to me. In the end all it did was increase his street cred. and elevate him to legend status with year 5 boys. And as James Tomkins header hit the back of the net, my credibility as a cool Dad was preserved for a few more precious months. We jumped and punched the air as one.....father and son.........claret and blue!
Thanks for the reply Devo. Sadly, I met Sir Trev on another occasion. By then I was an adult and he was sitting right in front of me at a Luton game working as a co commentator for the radio. Again, he was incredibly rude to genuine fans around him at half time and at the end of the game. Two chace meetings, two very bad impressions. With Moore, it was the complete opposite. I know which of the two greats I prefer!!!
Cheers Marty. I will run that as a post in its own right tomorrow if that's ok with you?
Help yourself mate. Have a look at the tune that the Orgestra's playing at the moment - Salty's on first violin and playing like a virtuoso!
LOL And Wrighty does his usual - sets himself up as the Master of the Universe, then runs away when he starts losing the argument! And the imaginary words! Dear me, no wonder the guy is now over here, you wouldn't want him sending letters for your company!
Captain Mainwaring, self appointed leader of a bunch of has beens and no-hopers. Funnily enough I don't think the old guard are nearly as impressed by the new self appointed grand wizard's magic as he is himself. Personally I reckon his wand's a bit on the short side.
LOL But he doesn't seem to realise. "I have posted some very contravirtual football topics over the last few days whereby i havent "ducked for cover"." You what? Contravitual? That's controversy in virtual reality I take it? Less Mainwairing and more Del Boy with his malapropisms!
Apparently he doesn't want to perpetrate your memory, he's too busy committing other crimes against the English language!
Good post, although well before my time. I had to laugh that you found the West Ham team just hanging about like that. Contrast that with our away match at Sunderland in the Fizzy (the year we went up). I'd arrived far too early and was mooching about outside the ground, having a pie and pint when the West Ham team bus pulled up. The players, piled off and the majority totally ignored the young fans trying to get autographs. The exception was Teddy, who signed everything and even let the security guard have his pic taken with him. A couple of the older players and Mark Noble did sign a few to be fair. The worst was Marleene. He arrived with a ridiculous woolly hat, massive Posh Spice sun glasses (it was raining) and big headphones on. He passed through the crowd with a dismissive wave of his hand. I thought his attitude stank and was pretty indicative of the intelligence of a bloke who played with the most intelligent English footballer of his generation for 2/3 seasons and learnt absolutely NOTHING!
12 years old in '71? That makes this a big year for you doesn't it? Where's the party?
LOL Marty, you should be teaching arithmetic on the Org! The birthday was in February and it was a wake. Bloody 50! A bit more bite in the tackle on the football pitch as I try to make a statement that there's still life in the old yard dog yet!
Post a Comment