Anecdotes
Alfie’s boots
1965
Alfie Jackson first came on the scene in the winter of 1965 when he appeared from behind the goal about ten minutes or so before kick off against Army Cadets in the Stockton Junior League. I seem to recall that although he had signed on he did not intend playing on the day and had wandered across to Blue Hall to see what he had let himself in for. On the day we had eleven players already, but from what I remember Mick Garvey, one of the eleven, wasn’t bothered about playing and said Alfie could play instead of him. Having made the effort of getting to the ground he decided to take up Mick Garvey’s offer and decided to go home and get his boots. The problem was there wasn’t enough time for him to go home and then get changed in time for kick-off. Seeing his younger brother hanging round the ground he said to him “will you go home and get me my boots and I’ll give you a tanner” (six old pence for those that don’t know what a tanner is). The immediate response from his streetwise younger brother was “f*** off, that’ll cost half a crown”. For the record Mick Garvey played after all!
The last minute arrival
1960s
Keith Beddard who played in goal in the 1960’s surprised many a referee by his last minute arrival on the pitch. On many an occasion with only two or three minutes to kick-off, we were asked, “are you a man short?” and suddenly he appeared having climbed over the garden fence from behind the goal. Of course the explanation was that he lived there and it was easier to get changed in the comfort of his own home.
The bread van
circa 1967
In pursuit of finding somewhere to train, Keith Beddard, our goalkeeper had sourced a gymnasium somewhere in the central area of Stockton. He asked us did we want to give it the ‘once-over’ to see if it would be any use for us for mid-week training. We agreed to go and have a look to see what we thought, but we needed go in the daytime and we couldn’t do that because of work commitments and had no means of transport. At the time both Ged Waters and myself were attending the Oxbridge Technical College each week on the same day and Keith a bread van driver agreed to meet us at lunchtime for us all to go and have a look at the gym. He arrived as promised in the bread van, but Ged had his classmate little Brian in tow with him and there wasn’t enough room for us all to get in the front of the van. Little Brian volunteered to get into the back of the van with the bread, cream cakes and things and off we went in search of this gym. We never did find it, as it had probably closed down and by the sound of it was a sweatshop for boxing training. We soon called it a day and Keith drove us back to the Tech, stopping just outside on the main road. He asked us to let little Brian out of the back of the van and bang on the rear door when we had done so. For some reason we didn’t let him out, which seemed hilarious at the time and we just banged on the back of the van to see it pull away into the distance. Brian returned to the Tech about an hour late after making his way back from the depot in Yarm Road. What he said to Ged or what excuse he gave the lecturer for being late I’ll never know.
Erecting the goalposts
circa 1966
Playing at Blue Hall, as with many other council grounds, meant that the wooden goalposts were put up and taken down after every game. The posts, which were quite heavy, had to be carried from the pavilion to the pitch which was about 400 yards away. This was an arduous task particularly in cold weather when you couldn’t feel your finger ends and was normally done by six to eight people. One incident in particular that always comes to mind was the antics of one of our debutantes (name withheld) who attempted to slot the assembled posts and crossbar into their upright position single-handedly. The assembled goalposts and crossbar were laid flat on the ground ready to be lifted into position and he thought rather than wait for help he would do the job himself. Somehow he managed to wedge the posts into the holes provided in the ground whilst lifting up the crossbar at its centre by his fingertips. He thought he’d secured the posts in position, but they fell, and to get out of the way he jumped, shouted and then started rolling over and over and over and over and over which was reminiscent of an episode of ‘Ripping Yarns’. I will never forget the dumbfounded look on Rob Lake’s face when this happened as he wondered what this guy was doing on the pitch in the first place. For the record, he also managed to get himself booked during the game when he wasn’t even signed on, behaved like Corporal Jones from Dad’s Army and was never seen again after this game.
Goal nets
circa 1969
At the end of the 1968/69 season we became the proud owners of some goal nets given to us by Malleable FC of the Stockton and District League. Still buoyant from receiving these nets and knowing we were about to join the Stockton and District League we offered to loan them for use in the YOC League Cup Final between TCA and Teesside United. We approached the League Secretary, Graham Hall and told him that we had acquired some nets and they were at his disposal if needed. He seemed pleased and said, “I hope they are better than the holeridden things that the Malleable tried to palm off on us last week”.
Home support
1960s/70s
There was an old gent that watched us in all kinds of weather at Blue Hall during the late 1960’s and 70’s. Wearing his gabardine raincoat and blue beret he watched numerous games from start to finish and was always keen to find out when the next home game was. I can’t remember ever knowing his name, but it was reassuring to know that we offered him some kind of entertainment, to keep him coming game after game. We did get regular support from many of the player’s families, particularly Mick Cross’ and Rob Lake’s folk who were at many of our games and of course Frank Waters who was our adopted first-aider.
Richie Allinson’s early morning call
circa 1971
In the early 1970s many of the players, being about twenty years of age, were living life to the full and occasionally lost sight of the football arrangements they had made for Saturday afternoons. This didn’t happen very often, but when it did, it was annoying for all the other players as well as myself because it meant being a player short or unable to field the team we wanted. To get round this I asked the players to phone me on Thursday or Friday evenings to confirm that they were available and they knew the match arrangements otherwise I’d assume they were unavailable. At the time hardly any of the players had a phone so I couldn’t ring them and had to rely on them ringing me. One Friday night, or should I say morning about one thirty to be precise, the phone rang and woke me up. I answered to hear blasting music followed by a pause and then an inebriated caller bellowing down the phone saying “it’s Richie I’m all right to play tomorrow”. He apologised the next day after he’d sobered up and explained that he’d gone to the Fiesta Night Club, forgotten to ring me earlier and didn’t realise what time it was.
Tom Newbold’s suitcase
circa 1973
Tom played in the early to mid 1970s and was the ‘grandfather’ of the team. Tom, a fine player with Northern League experience was in his early thirties when most of the other players were in their early twenties and at the time this seemed a huge age gap. Tom was of the ‘old school’ and this was born out by the miniature suitcase that he used for carrying his kit to and from games instead of haversack or sports bag like everybody else at the time. It was no secret that his wife didn’t like him playing because she feared he might get injured, but we felt he used this little suitcase to disguise his ‘footy kit’ from preying eyes when he sneaked out to play on Saturday afternoons.
The longest clearance ever
1970s
Peter Davison, was a reliable ‘no messing’ style full back who graced the stage from the early 1970’s till the early 1980’s. He was not known for his finesse, but more for his crunching tackles which weren’t always a pretty sight. He regularly thumped the ball up field when there was any sign of danger and although he probably didn’t realise it, this became his trademark. One day when playing at Bedford Terrace in Billingham he surpassed even his own expectations as he thumped the ball up in the air so far that it landed into an open top rail car on a train which was passing adjacent to the ground at the time. Whether this was accidental or a deliberate ploy, only Peter knows, but he certainly holds record for Norton Albion’s longest ever clearance!
Communal bath
circa 1976
Many teams in this period used a communal bath after a match; we were lucky to use a communal washbasin and that with cold water only. After an end of season night match at Blue Hall, the pitch was in a shocking state and by the end of the game so were the players. Making our way off the pitch with Keith Delderfield, we were all laughing at the state of ourselves. Keith then said, “why not get cleaned up at our house”. I can’t remember how many players took up the offer, but I do remember muddy bodies standing in their upstairs bathroom. I can’t imagine many parents nowadays putting up with that, but credit to them for doing so. By the way, we did keep our smalls on when standing in the bath for the sake of decency.
Colin Cooke’s platform heels
circa 1977
Blue Hall wasn’t one of the most salubrious grounds to play at and some teams preferred to use their own facilities and come by mini bus rather than use our changing rooms. The changing rooms, which were part of the pavilion, had external storage underneath for maintenance equipment with a hatch in the floor to access it. This hatch was often used by the local riffraff to break into the pavilion and on one occasion, whilst we were playing, money and clothing were taken including Colin Cooke’s platform-heeled shoes. After the game he said, “I can’t understand why anyone would want to pinch my shoes” and he was right, nobody wanted them, not even the riffraff. Searching for the missing gear we lifted the hatch, to see down below a discarded pair of platform-heeled shoes, but no sign of anything else!
Robin Gordon’s false alibi
circa 1978
Match arrangements were usually confirmed after training on Wednesday nights and on one occasion in the late seventies Robin Gordon our goalkeeper wasn’t there. Rather than chance him turning up at the wrong ground or not at all we thought it prudent to call and check if he knew about the match arrangements. So on our way home from training Ged Waters and myself called at Robin’s house. His wife answered the door and said, “I think he’ll know about the game because he has gone to training tonight”. In the next breath we both answered together “he wasn’t there tonight, that’s why we’ve called round”. Robin thanked us very much on the Saturday for putting an end to his sneaky mid-week drinking activities.
The Roving Reporter
1970s/80s
The Roving Reporter as he was affectionately known, was a young man who obtained and compiled records of all the Stockton and District League games over a period of many years. He watched as many games as he could and generally operated from Tilery where he could collect the results of two or three games together. The results he didn’t know he got by telephone within an hour or so of the games finishing. On many an occasion I had to give a full blown account of a game from the comfort of my bath (not many people had showers in those days) which was being relayed by my wife Jan on the phone downstairs. On one occasion when I was away he phoned Ged Waters but his wife Susan answered the phone and gave him the wrong result in a rather casual manner. From that day on she was never again trusted to provide any further results and although Ged was secretary at the time, all further results had to be verified by myself.
Clearing the pitch
1980s
To enable a game to be played one Saturday afternoon in mid-winter at William Newton in the early 1980’s Rob Lake took it on himself to clear the snow off the pitch. This was a Herculean task taking into account the size of the pitch. He commandeered the use of a van and towing a door attached to the rear acting as a plough he went about clearing the snow off the pitch. Full marks for ingenuity and endeavour, but the van came off worse having to have its burned-out clutch replaced.
The ton weight dugout
1980s
It was a fine specimen built with robustness in mind and one which even the Pioneer Corps would have been proud of and offered welcome shelter from the wind, rain and cold on those winter afternoons. The downside of course was getting it out of storage and putting it away after each game. It took at least six or more bodies to man handle it into position and having done that players spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of a good reason why somebody else should put it away again.
Big Nige Routledge’s towel
circa 1982
After the team had played well and won comfortably with everyone happy and just about to shower after the game Glen Bennington realised that he’d forgotten his towel. He shouted out “Anyone got a spare towel?” which most people just ignored and carried on talking among themselves. Big Nige, who did hear Glen, said ‘you can use mine’; meaning after him of course and then he carried on talking to other team members like everybody else. Nige, usually one of the last to shower, came out dripping wet and said “Who’s got my f****** towel?”. Glen who had showered by this time and was almost dressed gave him the sodden towel back and said “You said I could borrow it!”.