August 1978. Not a date that instantly pops in to your mind as memorable. And let’s be frank, it has no reason to.
But for me it is important as I purchased something which was to play a major part in my childhood and is still today one of my most treasured possessions.
For in August 1978, in WH Smith in Weston-Super-Mare. I bought an autograph book. I was on holiday with my Mum on our annual one week summer holiday. We were creatures of habit as we went every year to Weston-Super-Mare. Nine year old me thought it was the equivalent of going to Las Vegas. Don’t judge me, they were simpler times.
A major part of the annual holiday was going to see the summer show at the local theatre. Normally this would be a variety show featuring some well-known acts from TV and would run nightly across the summer holidays. We went along and afterwards hung around the stage door. And it came to pass that my autograph book was christened that night. Page one was signed by Bernie Clifton.
Older readers will remember him as the comedian who pranced around in an ostrich suit. Younger readers will think I’m making it up. Google him.
Now I know what you’re thinking, this treasured autograph book tale has not got off to the most illustrious start. I agree. Stick with me.
When I wasn’t sunning myself in the mecca of the West Country for one week a year, I lived in Cheshunt, south Hertfordshire. A quiet town where absolutely nothing exciting happened.
But, when I looked out of my kitchen window I saw some football pitches, about a five minute walk away, nestled in 11 acres of Hertfordshire countryside. Nothing immediately different about that until I tell you those pitches were part of the training ground of, and I shall have to whisper this, Tottenham Hotspur.
Now when you watch Sky Sports News and you see some poor sap reporter at the training ground of a Premier League team trying to get the scoop, invariably he is stood in front of some very serious looking locked gates or at the start of a long driveway which would appear to lead you to Downton Abbey.
Training grounds are fortresses where you need a defcon 3 security clearance to gain entry. Not so when I was growing up. At the Spurs training ground you could just bimble in and watch them train. And afterwards the players would stroll to the car park, and you’ve guessed it quite happily sign autographs.
The intense rivalry between east and north London hadn’t really registered with my 10 year old home counties innocent self, so going to watch Spurs train and garner autographs didn’t instil any guilty desire to douse myself in bleach then set myself on fire.
I would go over there during school holidays and I remember just being excited to be able to see proper footballers in the flesh and get autographs of some top stars. This was the time of Hoddle, Ardiles, Villa, Perryman etc etc.
One of the pitches there had a small covered terrace. I discovered that sometimes the reserve games were played here. In a pre-technology age finding out when and who would be playing was very difficult. I can’t remember how but at some stage I found out that there was to be a reserve game played there. Against West Ham. Cue insane anticipation, I had to make sure I was there.
I remember pestering my Mum with incessant speculation on who might play. The day arrived and my Mum came with me. As we walked in to the car park I saw a coach and in the front window was a little sign which read ‘West Ham United’. This was it, I was going to see a West Ham team play for the very first time.
I think there were 20 people watching at most. I can’t remember a thing about the game but I do remember diligently waiting outside the changing rooms, my autograph book clutched in my hand. So who did play that day? Well I can tell you as fortunately I was in the habit of writing players names under the signatures which varied wildly in legibility.
Bobby Barnes, George Cowie, Dale Banton and Tom McAllister were there. Oh dear I hear you think, not quite what the young lad may have been hoping for. Granted, but also there were 3 FA Cup winners – Stuart Pearson, Paul Allen and Frank Lampard. Beside myself does not get anywhere near the description for how I felt.
Apart from my excitement at having seen West Ham play for the first time and having met some heroes, something else happened for the first time that day. I saw my Mum ‘swoon’. Apparently Stuart Pearson was “a bit of a dish”. My autograph book and pen was whisked away from me briefly as my Mum got a dedicated signature from the said dish. Mother, please, calm yourself.
The autograph book was added to over the coming years, I was fortunate to meet 1978 Argentinian World Cup hero Mario Kempes, there is a wonderful inscription from God, sorry I mean Sir Trevor Brooking.
I also attended a pre-season friendly between Enfield and Southend. I had no interest in the game just getting one inscription in my book. And that I did of the then Southend manager Bobby Moore.
So from the humble beginnings of a second rate 1970’s TV comedian the autograph book evolved with FA Cup winners, World Cup winners and true legends. And most of all my memories.