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Authors: Brian Darley
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was the opportunity most lads would die for. It was to be a trainee footballer.
If I agreed I would have to travel to the club during the Easter holidays, but not between Good Friday and Easter Monday as clubs played three games in four days back then. Fixture congestion was part and parcel of every single clubs end of season. The club would provide my accommodation for three nights and I would get a first hand view of how things worked. The Manager said that because I was already six foot tall and quite strong it would be his aim for me to skip the Youth Team and go straight into the Third Team with a view to being blooded into the Reserves towards the end of my first season, although I would still have to lodge with the Youth Team players. I told him it was a massive step up for me and I needed time to think so we returned home.
When we arrived home Grandad was also there and beaming with pride for me and after the Manager left we spoke for ages. Dad and Grandad thought it all sounded great but Mum wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want her little treasure going to live in a city where he could possibly be led astray. Little did she know, her little Billy was growing up a darned sight quicker than she thought!
As for me, I wasn’t so sure. I thought I would miss Angela too much and I didn’t really want to be a goalie anyway. I wanted to be a proper footballer but, alas, it was decided the best thing I could do was to sign the paper. It didn’t mean I had to go for it, it just meant nobody else could approach me. Thoughts of anyone wanting me except some kids team, stretched my emotions to the limit. I had hoped perhaps when I was older I might one day be good enough to get in the Town’s team. I always imagined myself playing home games at the Town’s ground on a Saturday afternoon with lots of people from the Arches watching. That was my real ambition for fame.
The only scoring I cared about at the moment was with Angela! She needed to be told first but the next chance I would get to say more than hello to her was nearly two days away and although I needed to share it I felt I couldn’t. It would be morally wrong. Mr Tindall called me to the Head’s office the following morning and as we walked in the Head sat there with Miss Page. It was around 8.50 am. and the whistle hadn’t yet sounded and the rest of the boys were still playing footie in the playground. Again I started to panic but to my surprise Mr Tindall and the Headmaster had known about me being watched for weeks as the Headmaster had had to give his consent. They told me it was a chance not to be missed because even if I failed to make the grade I could always return to a job similar to the working men of our area. What did I want to be? Footballer, builder, railway man, factory worker? None seemed that bad. Wasn’t it what we did …. earn money somehow? Those were the golden rules of our times. The only job I really didn’t fancy was being a coal man. I had watched Dad’s health slowly deteriorate. Firstly with a bad back caused by all the lifting and secondly coughing problems as the coal dust had got to his lungs. Added to which, it was dirty and horrible. Our house always smelt like a coal yard. I told the three of them I had signed the form and was travelling up at Easter. Miss Page and Mr Tindall left the room and the Head asked if I minded if he announced it to the school but I decided it was far too important just to spring it on Angela and I also got the impression my new found fame was ruffling a few feathers, especially amongst one or two of the older lads. Needless to say the ones it was annoying weren’t particularly good at football. On leaving the Head’s office, which was a small office at the top of some narrow stairs which overlooked both playgrounds, I was confronted by Miss Page who gave me a quick congratulatory hug and said I should be really proud. She then said “Angela and yourself can always talk things over with me. I
If I agreed I would have to travel to the club during the Easter holidays, but not between Good Friday and Easter Monday as clubs played three games in four days back then. Fixture congestion was part and parcel of every single clubs end of season. The club would provide my accommodation for three nights and I would get a first hand view of how things worked. The Manager said that because I was already six foot tall and quite strong it would be his aim for me to skip the Youth Team and go straight into the Third Team with a view to being blooded into the Reserves towards the end of my first season, although I would still have to lodge with the Youth Team players. I told him it was a massive step up for me and I needed time to think so we returned home.
When we arrived home Grandad was also there and beaming with pride for me and after the Manager left we spoke for ages. Dad and Grandad thought it all sounded great but Mum wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want her little treasure going to live in a city where he could possibly be led astray. Little did she know, her little Billy was growing up a darned sight quicker than she thought!
As for me, I wasn’t so sure. I thought I would miss Angela too much and I didn’t really want to be a goalie anyway. I wanted to be a proper footballer but, alas, it was decided the best thing I could do was to sign the paper. It didn’t mean I had to go for it, it just meant nobody else could approach me. Thoughts of anyone wanting me except some kids team, stretched my emotions to the limit. I had hoped perhaps when I was older I might one day be good enough to get in the Town’s team. I always imagined myself playing home games at the Town’s ground on a Saturday afternoon with lots of people from the Arches watching. That was my real ambition for fame.
The only scoring I cared about at the moment was with Angela! She needed to be told first but the next chance I would get to say more than hello to her was nearly two days away and although I needed to share it I felt I couldn’t. It would be morally wrong. Mr Tindall called me to the Head’s office the following morning and as we walked in the Head sat there with Miss Page. It was around 8.50 am. and the whistle hadn’t yet sounded and the rest of the boys were still playing footie in the playground. Again I started to panic but to my surprise Mr Tindall and the Headmaster had known about me being watched for weeks as the Headmaster had had to give his consent. They told me it was a chance not to be missed because even if I failed to make the grade I could always return to a job similar to the working men of our area. What did I want to be? Footballer, builder, railway man, factory worker? None seemed that bad. Wasn’t it what we did …. earn money somehow? Those were the golden rules of our times. The only job I really didn’t fancy was being a coal man. I had watched Dad’s health slowly deteriorate. Firstly with a bad back caused by all the lifting and secondly coughing problems as the coal dust had got to his lungs. Added to which, it was dirty and horrible. Our house always smelt like a coal yard. I told the three of them I had signed the form and was travelling up at Easter. Miss Page and Mr Tindall left the room and the Head asked if I minded if he announced it to the school but I decided it was far too important just to spring it on Angela and I also got the impression my new found fame was ruffling a few feathers, especially amongst one or two of the older lads. Needless to say the ones it was annoying weren’t particularly good at football. On leaving the Head’s office, which was a small office at the top of some narrow stairs which overlooked both playgrounds, I was confronted by Miss Page who gave me a quick congratulatory hug and said I should be really proud. She then said “Angela and yourself can always talk things over with me. I
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