Sport!
by Glenn Muir
Genre: Memoir
Swearwords: One mild one only.
Description: A nostalgic look at sport from a bygone era.
Swearwords: One mild one only.
Description: A nostalgic look at sport from a bygone era.
Noo thir are some folk thit hiv nae time for sport. They dinnae play it, read aboot it or watch it, even when it’s on the telly. Oor family wisnae like that, oors wis aye a sporting hoose.
Probably this stemmed frae ma faither, he wis a guid fitba player (according tae him), aftimes he would recount tales o his prowess wi the roond ba. He had a trial for the Royal Artillery (his regiment during WW2). It wis during a bounce game in Burma that he got his nose broken for the first time. Challenging for a high cross wi a burly Gurkha, the defender’s heid caucht him full square on the bridge o the nose. That wis the end o Bertie’s guid luiks (his by name wis Handsome).
That wis jist a bounce game, during the actual trial he wis hardly gien the sniff o a pass. According tae him this wis due tae twa ex-Partick Thistle players wha kept passing the ba tae each ither (even when Bertie wis better placed tae score).
“Ah onlie got yin decent pass an ah fair burst the net wi the ba, eftir that they gets kept me oot the game. They werenae wanting showed up by the likes o me.”
Due tae cartilage problems he had tae gie up playing fitba eftir the war. He still loved the game as a spectator sport. He tuik ma sister tae see a Scotland v Austria freendly at Hampden. Austria spat the dummy at 4:1 and walked aff the pitch, couldnae handle the further humiliation aboot tae be heaped on them by the boys in dark blue.
When I wis auld enough, faither sometimes tuik me tae see Falkirk F.C. (his hometown team). I wis going through a supporting Celtic phase at the time and “The Bairns” werenae really ma cup o tea. This wis no lang eftir seeing the “Hoops” being crooned champions o Europe in glorious mono-chrome.
Back in those pre-Sky Sport days, there were only twa channels (B.B.C. and S.T.V.). Setterday wis spent switching between Grandstand on the BBC and World of Sport on S.T.V.
Prior tae us getting oor first telly (a black and white Murphy) Mither nivir showed onie interest in sport. Then she discovered the Sport of Kings and wis suin an expert at reading the form. She wis quite a guid tipster, this much tae Faither’s annoyance as he wis shite at picking winners. On yin occasion, when Faither wis working and unavailable tae pit her line on, she asked ma brither Rab tae nip doon tae the bookie and pit on her tanner Trixie. Rab must hae been going through a rebellious teenager stage. He refused point blank, needless tae say the three horses aa romped hame. She nivir let him forget aboot the fiver he had done her oot o.
Setterday sport widnae be complete withoot the wrestling. This filled the 4pm until the classified results slot on I.T.V.’s World o Sport. Watching the likes o Mick McManus, Jackie Pallo, Johnny Kwango and Masambula wis something I aywiss looked forrit tae. Usually jist as the grapplers were aboot tae stert there wid be a chap at the door. Enter Mr Parkash Singh, a lapsed Sikh and traivilling salesman. He had a muckle big case fu o “seconds” which he wis flogging roon the doors. Maw aywiss gied him a kitkat and a cuppa tae hae while watching the wrestling.
Watching Johnny (as we kenned him) watching the wrestling wis an entertainment in itsel. He wid get quite animated, leaning forrit in the airmchair and shaking his fist at the screen and shouting encouragement tae yin o his favourites. By the way, Johnny liked a punt on the horses tae and wid usually let us ken whit wis a shair thing for The Grand National. In the early seventies Johnny stertit visiting on Friday evenings (instead o Setterdays). On the eve o the 1974 Grand National he assured us that there was nae chance o Red Rum winning a second time.
“No horse can win that race twice” says Johnny.
Of course on his visit the following Friday he telt us that he had pit a fiver on it tae win.
As I wis saying, back in the pre-Sky Sport days, sport wis much mair accessible tae aabody. Ah cuidnae get enough o it. In ma minds ee I imagined masel being a sportin super star. I wanted tae play gowf like Jack Nicklaus, ride like Brian Fletcher,box like Muhammad Ali or play fitba like Denis Law. Alas nane o these things cam tae pass. In reality I wis rubbish at gowf and fitba, couldnae box ma way oot a paper bag and horses gied me a sair erse. Now fast approaching the start of my seventh decade, those boyhood dreams are beyond fulfilment and ye ken whit they say, “Nostalgia isnae whit it used tae be”.
Probably this stemmed frae ma faither, he wis a guid fitba player (according tae him), aftimes he would recount tales o his prowess wi the roond ba. He had a trial for the Royal Artillery (his regiment during WW2). It wis during a bounce game in Burma that he got his nose broken for the first time. Challenging for a high cross wi a burly Gurkha, the defender’s heid caucht him full square on the bridge o the nose. That wis the end o Bertie’s guid luiks (his by name wis Handsome).
That wis jist a bounce game, during the actual trial he wis hardly gien the sniff o a pass. According tae him this wis due tae twa ex-Partick Thistle players wha kept passing the ba tae each ither (even when Bertie wis better placed tae score).
“Ah onlie got yin decent pass an ah fair burst the net wi the ba, eftir that they gets kept me oot the game. They werenae wanting showed up by the likes o me.”
Due tae cartilage problems he had tae gie up playing fitba eftir the war. He still loved the game as a spectator sport. He tuik ma sister tae see a Scotland v Austria freendly at Hampden. Austria spat the dummy at 4:1 and walked aff the pitch, couldnae handle the further humiliation aboot tae be heaped on them by the boys in dark blue.
When I wis auld enough, faither sometimes tuik me tae see Falkirk F.C. (his hometown team). I wis going through a supporting Celtic phase at the time and “The Bairns” werenae really ma cup o tea. This wis no lang eftir seeing the “Hoops” being crooned champions o Europe in glorious mono-chrome.
Back in those pre-Sky Sport days, there were only twa channels (B.B.C. and S.T.V.). Setterday wis spent switching between Grandstand on the BBC and World of Sport on S.T.V.
Prior tae us getting oor first telly (a black and white Murphy) Mither nivir showed onie interest in sport. Then she discovered the Sport of Kings and wis suin an expert at reading the form. She wis quite a guid tipster, this much tae Faither’s annoyance as he wis shite at picking winners. On yin occasion, when Faither wis working and unavailable tae pit her line on, she asked ma brither Rab tae nip doon tae the bookie and pit on her tanner Trixie. Rab must hae been going through a rebellious teenager stage. He refused point blank, needless tae say the three horses aa romped hame. She nivir let him forget aboot the fiver he had done her oot o.
Setterday sport widnae be complete withoot the wrestling. This filled the 4pm until the classified results slot on I.T.V.’s World o Sport. Watching the likes o Mick McManus, Jackie Pallo, Johnny Kwango and Masambula wis something I aywiss looked forrit tae. Usually jist as the grapplers were aboot tae stert there wid be a chap at the door. Enter Mr Parkash Singh, a lapsed Sikh and traivilling salesman. He had a muckle big case fu o “seconds” which he wis flogging roon the doors. Maw aywiss gied him a kitkat and a cuppa tae hae while watching the wrestling.
Watching Johnny (as we kenned him) watching the wrestling wis an entertainment in itsel. He wid get quite animated, leaning forrit in the airmchair and shaking his fist at the screen and shouting encouragement tae yin o his favourites. By the way, Johnny liked a punt on the horses tae and wid usually let us ken whit wis a shair thing for The Grand National. In the early seventies Johnny stertit visiting on Friday evenings (instead o Setterdays). On the eve o the 1974 Grand National he assured us that there was nae chance o Red Rum winning a second time.
“No horse can win that race twice” says Johnny.
Of course on his visit the following Friday he telt us that he had pit a fiver on it tae win.
As I wis saying, back in the pre-Sky Sport days, sport wis much mair accessible tae aabody. Ah cuidnae get enough o it. In ma minds ee I imagined masel being a sportin super star. I wanted tae play gowf like Jack Nicklaus, ride like Brian Fletcher,box like Muhammad Ali or play fitba like Denis Law. Alas nane o these things cam tae pass. In reality I wis rubbish at gowf and fitba, couldnae box ma way oot a paper bag and horses gied me a sair erse. Now fast approaching the start of my seventh decade, those boyhood dreams are beyond fulfilment and ye ken whit they say, “Nostalgia isnae whit it used tae be”.
About the Author
West Lothian-born Glenn Muir is a fiftysomething postman working in Linlithgow. Previously a member of the West Lothian Song Writers Group, he is now with Quill, a poetry and writing group based in Bathgate.