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Authors: Neil Young, Dante Friend
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like: “United In Seven Goal Thriller.” I can recall one famous United-supporting journalist laughably describing their 5-1 defeat by City as a “Six Goal Thriller.” That’s the sort of utter tripe they used to come out with and us Blues had to put up with.
We used to say amongst ourselves: “Oh, they’re so lucky, United . If they play on a Wednesday night, the sun will shine for them, if we play on a Wednesday night, it’ll chuck it down non-stop!”
*
Gambling or rather ‘playing cards’ was a bit of a favourite with the lads and I suppose always has been in football clubs. The usual suspects were Stan Bowles, Dave Connor, Peter Gardner from the Manchester Evening News, George Heslop and myself .
To underline the importance of card games to our little group, one night as we returned home from an away match, we were approaching my stop, Wilmslow station and I had an especially good hand. I didn’t want to give up my hand and as the train stopped at the platform, my wife was banging on the window encouraging me to get off. Without looking round I shouted through the open window: “Pick me up from
Manchester
,” to the great amusement of the players the train moved on again before she could challenge my decision. I won the hand and she picked me up so all’s well that ends well, eh!
Another memorable night was in
Blackpool
when myself , Stanley Bowles and Stan Horne went for a drink and you know what happens when you all get talking. It was after
midnight
before we knew it so we hailed a taxi and when we arrived back at the Norbreck Castle Hotel, there was Joe standing on the steps of the hotel. We all thought: “Bloody hell, we’re in trouble now.” All he said was: “I’ll talk to you after the game. Goodnight!” Luckily we won 3-1 and Stan Bowles and I both found the score-sheet. Joe joked that we ought to go for a drink before each away game if that was going to be the reaction. I can’t imagine what he’d have said if we’d lost though!
We used to go to
Blackpool
three or four times a year for training. We went to the
Norbreck
Castle
mainly because the manageress fancied Malcolm! With the rigorous training and fitness regime we undertook, it simply didn’t make sense to go and get blind drunk anyway. I was first in every morning for training for ten years and I always had time for a nice cup of tea with Stan Gibson, the groundsman .
Stan would go nuts with us because he’d be out on the pitch preparing it for the Saturday and suddenly Mal would appear from the tunnel in his tracksuit with a ball under his arm and Stan knew that meant just one thing: time to scarper! He’d still have the pitch ready for the match though.
Talking of which, Malcolm used to have the pitch flooded by the fire brigade at about 10.30 on a Saturday morning to make sure it was nice and zippy for our passing game. Once that backfired though because we had a storm shortly afterwards, the pitch became unplayable and the game had to be abandoned.
Nevertheless Stan Gibson was a true Blue. He must have been at City for forty years. He used to tell people that he cut a six-inch square piece of turf which he called ‘ Youngy’s pitch.’ He said that was the part of the pitch where I scored most of my goals and he dug it up and planted it in his back garden!
Anyway, my daily routine became one of my favourite things about being a professional. I’d get there before anyone else and every day I would put a skittle at the end of the gym and try to knock it down. I wouldn’t stop until I’d done that. The other players would arrive soon after and take their places for a game of two-a-side or four-a-side head tennis. You were only allowed two touches so we’d have two back men and two men at the net which was about six feet high. Normally the players were Tommy Booth, Glyn Pardoe , Colin Bell, Tony Book, Mike Doyle, Derek Jeffries, Malcolm and myself .
Normally Malcolm would take one look at the
We used to say amongst ourselves: “Oh, they’re so lucky, United . If they play on a Wednesday night, the sun will shine for them, if we play on a Wednesday night, it’ll chuck it down non-stop!”
*
Gambling or rather ‘playing cards’ was a bit of a favourite with the lads and I suppose always has been in football clubs. The usual suspects were Stan Bowles, Dave Connor, Peter Gardner from the Manchester Evening News, George Heslop and myself .
To underline the importance of card games to our little group, one night as we returned home from an away match, we were approaching my stop, Wilmslow station and I had an especially good hand. I didn’t want to give up my hand and as the train stopped at the platform, my wife was banging on the window encouraging me to get off. Without looking round I shouted through the open window: “Pick me up from
Manchester
,” to the great amusement of the players the train moved on again before she could challenge my decision. I won the hand and she picked me up so all’s well that ends well, eh!
Another memorable night was in
Blackpool
when myself , Stanley Bowles and Stan Horne went for a drink and you know what happens when you all get talking. It was after
midnight
before we knew it so we hailed a taxi and when we arrived back at the Norbreck Castle Hotel, there was Joe standing on the steps of the hotel. We all thought: “Bloody hell, we’re in trouble now.” All he said was: “I’ll talk to you after the game. Goodnight!” Luckily we won 3-1 and Stan Bowles and I both found the score-sheet. Joe joked that we ought to go for a drink before each away game if that was going to be the reaction. I can’t imagine what he’d have said if we’d lost though!
We used to go to
Blackpool
three or four times a year for training. We went to the
Norbreck
Castle
mainly because the manageress fancied Malcolm! With the rigorous training and fitness regime we undertook, it simply didn’t make sense to go and get blind drunk anyway. I was first in every morning for training for ten years and I always had time for a nice cup of tea with Stan Gibson, the groundsman .
Stan would go nuts with us because he’d be out on the pitch preparing it for the Saturday and suddenly Mal would appear from the tunnel in his tracksuit with a ball under his arm and Stan knew that meant just one thing: time to scarper! He’d still have the pitch ready for the match though.
Talking of which, Malcolm used to have the pitch flooded by the fire brigade at about 10.30 on a Saturday morning to make sure it was nice and zippy for our passing game. Once that backfired though because we had a storm shortly afterwards, the pitch became unplayable and the game had to be abandoned.
Nevertheless Stan Gibson was a true Blue. He must have been at City for forty years. He used to tell people that he cut a six-inch square piece of turf which he called ‘ Youngy’s pitch.’ He said that was the part of the pitch where I scored most of my goals and he dug it up and planted it in his back garden!
Anyway, my daily routine became one of my favourite things about being a professional. I’d get there before anyone else and every day I would put a skittle at the end of the gym and try to knock it down. I wouldn’t stop until I’d done that. The other players would arrive soon after and take their places for a game of two-a-side or four-a-side head tennis. You were only allowed two touches so we’d have two back men and two men at the net which was about six feet high. Normally the players were Tommy Booth, Glyn Pardoe , Colin Bell, Tony Book, Mike Doyle, Derek Jeffries, Malcolm and myself .
Normally Malcolm would take one look at the
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