As
a fierce England supporter I remember being
taken on the Friday night on the 8.20pm bus,
Keighley / Leeds (1 hour) thence by tram and
"shanks pony" to Headingley. You can have
no idea how excited I was.
I recall hundreds of people milling around
and my father had arranged to meet with his
friends outside the Parish Church. I was aware
of his nervousness and when I asked him about
it he chewed me out. From then on I worked
out that my best policy was to say "nowt".
Eventually
some men arrived who were "hyperactive", a
condition I now know to be Tipsy !!!! My Dad's
demeanour changed dramatically. These were
his friends. He became more relaxed and jolly.
These men made a fuss of me and (I thought)
treated me like one of them. I was so proud.
They
took us to the front of a queue at a gate
and I remember being so embarrassed at seemingly
"pushing in". However, nothing was said so
eventually I relaxed. By this time it was
after ten pm.
One
of my Dad's friends produced a folding camp
bed and told me it was for me. I don't think
sleeping bags had been invented at this stage
and I was wrapped in an old smelly army blanket.
I remember trying hard to fall asleep but
I was too excited. I recall having some fish
and chips and I remember an Irishman singing
a song about his mother, based on the alphabet.
Then sleep !
My
memory of the early Saturday morning is of
the "millions" of people walking around. All
the people around me were complaining that
the turnstiles had not been opened. I cannot
be sure but I think this was before 9 am.
About this time, and for about an hour, I
remember my Dad jumping from one foot to the
other. I just became invisible !! ??
Then
there was a loud cheer. The neighbouring turnstile
had opened. Ours still remained closed and
silent. Everybody in our queue was panicking.
I remember feeling that we were not going
to get in but I had learned enough to keep
that thought quiet.
Suddenly
there is a man wearing a rosette shouting
"pass that young man here". I was hoisted
up above my Dad's head and they started to
pass me to the front. The turnstile opened
and I was thrown over the bars. The cashier
said "just stand still and wait for your Dad".
Two minutes later my Dad and all his friends
were in. I can vividly recall the rush to
find "decent" seats. In the next ten minutes,
or so, we must have changed our positions
ten times !
I
remember the meat pies and the thick tea in
white cups and my Dad's friends complaining
that there were no mugs ! My Dad left me to
"save" his seat as he went to find a "start
of day" scorecard. His friends were giving
me packets of Rowntrees Clear Gums and a Mars
bar. Since sweets were severely rationed at
the time I remember this with awe and pride.
Our ration was used up by week 2. My father
returned and all around the converations were
about how good the Aussies were. I couldn't
believe all this. England was my team. Everyone
around should be from Yorkshire therefore
should be only concerned with England. The
Aussies were our enemy. Why were they all
agreeing that Don Bradman was the best in
the world ? Len Hutton had the world record.
Why do they talk like this ? I had already
sufferred one "humiliation" at Park Avenue
when the Don had rested. Yorkshire were "not
good enough" to test him the Y E N had reported.
My
father was telling a chap from Halifax that
"it would have been a different story if Hedley
Verity had survived the war". From sucking
on my mother's teat I had been brainwashed
into believing that Verity had been the best
bowler ever. I suppose that since he was dead
then he could be accorded "Eternal Youth"
(I say that in retrospect !) I have often
wondered how he would compare with Warne.
Somebody else was saying "what a disappointment
Bill Bowes was". Whereas someone else was
moaning about "Huttons lack of committment"
I always remember the reply from another "Aye,
but did you know that Hutton has one arm longer
than the other". Later in life I learned that
Hutton had suffered a fractured arm and, indeed,
had one longer than t'other!!!
However,
at the time this was HERESY.
Play
started on time and I cannot tell you anything
about it except I had a feeling of shame that
we were letting the Aussies do what they wanted.
Lunch came at 1.30pm and we ate our tomato
and lettuce sandwiches which were soggy. We
finally used our Thermos which contained a
milky Camp Coffee. If you have never heard
of Camp Coffee ask your parents. Uugh !
My
father's friends gave me a "corky" ball and
encouraged me to go down on the field. I met
up with a boy from Louth who had a cut off
bat but no ball. We had a great match. Yorkshire
v Lincs.
When
the umpires came back out my new friend told
me to stay on the field and we sat just on
the line at square leg. (My Dad told me !!!)
I slept most of the afternoon and, when awake,
discussed the terrors of the "scholarships"
we had just sat and both passed. The cricket
washed over us. Teatime came and our group
plied me with meat pies and scones and some
fizzy drink that was disgusting. Some of the
Aussies were walking around the perimeter
in their green blazers and I got the autograph
of Hasset who I was sure was ninety. Once
again Yorks beat Lincs.
From
the resumption of play to the end I was dying
to pee and I was too "shy" to go. My friend
from Louth disappeared, I returned to our
seats and finally went to the loo which stank
and was a metal trough full to overflowing.
The talk around was now about how poor England
was and how the war had wrecked our development.
England needed Brian Sellers to put us right
for the next generation. We needed more backbone
like Paynter had demonstrated in Australia
pre-war. Discharging himself from hospital
to bat a match saving innings. Later in life
it all began to make sense but at the time
HERESY !
After
the close, my father being a strict teetotaler,
we returned home much to my disappointment
since I had the feeling that his friends were
going out on the town. As an endnote I must
tell you, again with pride, of my Dad's eight
friends who were with us that Friday / Saturday.
The following football season six of them
were signed on amateur forms for Blackpool.
Two of them made it big time and two finished
up with Bradford City in the old Div 3 North.
The other two became successful league cricketers.
One in the Bradford League and the other with
Nelson in the Lancs League. In those days
they were the two premier leagues.
