May 1967

Shortly after the FA Cup Quarter Final draw had been made, this blackboard appeared by the entrance to the boys changing room. Propped against the corridor wall, it remained there for weeks.

May 6^th Manchester United clinched the league title with a 6-1 win at West Ham. I loved every minute of the live second half commentary I heard on Mam’s best wireless.

May 13^th Gillingham 3 Doncaster Rovers1; after three goalless visits to Priestfield Stadium I finally saw some goals. Just as memorable was the name of Doncaster full back Keith Kettleborough. Paul and I were highly amused.

Manchester United appeared on Match of the Day that same evening. The only incident of note in a disappointing 0-0 draw was Paddy Crerand’s dismissal for spitting in a Stoke player’s face, right in front of the referee. The incident took the edge off United’s lap of honour with the league trophy. The other featured game was second division champions Coventry’s win against Millwall and the celebrations in the dressing room after, with manager Jimmy Hill leading a chorus of Sky Blues Forever.

May 20^th FA Cup Final. Chelsea v Tottenham Hotspur: They called it the Cockney Cup Final. With no leanings to either finalist I was strictly neutral, though I temporarily sided with Spurs, under the threat of a Chinese burn, when Brian Lack canvassed playground support for his team in the days before the match. So did Kevin, though he quickly retracted his support when Brian was out of earshot, with dark mutterings about Terry Bendisballs and the rest of the Spurs side. In a game that was fairly one sided, Spurs dominated throughout and took the lead before half time. A second goal emphasised their superiority and though Chelsea came back with a late goal, it was too little, too late. Spurs were worthy winners.

May 25^th European Cup Final. Celtic v Inter Milan: A tremendous game. After Inter Milan took an early lead from the penalty spot, it was Celtic all the way. Though the Italians defended desperately they couldn’t hold back the relentless Scots. Tommy Gemmell smashed in an equaliser on the hour and five minutes from time Celtic grabbed a winner when Steve Chalmers turned Bobby Murdoch’s shot into the net. In a game heralded as a victory for football, Celtic became the first British winners of the European Cup.

As hard as he tried, my mate Kevin wasn’t really a football fan. He had a liking for rugby but at heart he was an angler and a lover of newts, slow worms, frogs and sticklebacks. Though he continued to visit our house on Crundale Road, he no longer called for me. He called for my brothers Dave and Mike, whose interests in all things slimy made them ideal companions for expeditions to Sharps Green and the chalk pit.

For me it was football, football and football. If I wasn’t watching a game I was playing, weekends and after school with Paul in Wingham Close. It didn’t matter if there were two of us or ten, or even more. Sometimes Paul’s younger brother Glenn joined in, hopping around in defiance of an artificial leg, and his flailing crutches didn’t half sharpen our reflexes. Most times though it was just me and Paul.

Since a game of football requires more space than we had outside Paul’s home at number seven, in the corner of the close, we played outside his next door neighbours. It wasn’t ideal, as Paul was prone to getting caught up in the moment and whenever he unleashed a screamer that sailed over a wall, my heart was in my mouth. The ball usually dipped at the last second and missed the window, but we endured many an anxious moment.

Playing up the slope was better. With Angela Porter’s house central to that side of the close, it made good sense to have our goal there, only Angela’s dad didn’t think so when our ball came flying over his garden and thudded against the house wall, just beneath his front room window.

The solution? Playing down the slope. The Gardner’s privets absorbed everything.