Birth and my life in football matches

My son is turning five so I started thinking about the day he was born. What do I remember?

That my husband was wearing a banana t-shirt (imagine that being the first thing you saw on exiting from the gift shop??)

I remember that on the morning after his birth I was late transferring back to Stroud Maternity because I wanted to watch the FA Cup final (Portsmouth 1-0 Cardiff).

I remember that I finally left the 'Stroud Hotel' because United were playing Chelsea in the European Cup Final and I wanted to watch it at home.

I also remember my milk coming in during the first half (feel free to look away now). I felt a mixture of pain and panic, trying to force a tiny baby to drink to relieve the pain, but with breasts rapidly expanding like Violet, the one ton blueberry from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Ever had the feeling you're about to explode??
 

I didn't think I'd live to see the second half, so sent the husband out to scour the supermarkets for a hand pump.

He returned and United won on penalties.
I was elated and the boobs thankfully, deflated.

There you go, my birth memories. All based around football (and I don't even follow it anymore).

Unexpected joy

Nothing could have prepared me for the joy of seeing my son ride his bike.

It’s the kind of joy you don’t feel very often. Real, heart thumping, blood rushing, face glowing, smile inducing, shout out as loud as you can joy. I could feel my whole body open out into one huge smile as he disappeared off in front of me, on his own two wheels.

Joy.

This is more than just happiness, it's the kind of joy people tell you that you should feel on all those important occasions (but I never really did).

Your wedding day (fun but planned), finding out you’re pregnant (sick inducing), holding your new baby in your arms (thank god it’s over). None of those events made me feel the joy of the bike ride.

Because the very best kind of joy is totally unexpected. It’s not something you’re prepared for, no one is telling you to feel it, your mind isn’t willing your body on. It just happens, it rushes over you in an all-consuming way. That kind of joy is rare.

Up until then my most joyous moment was the Ryan Giggs goal against Arsenal in the ’99 FA Cup Semi-final replay. I’ve never felt joy like it, happiness like it, shared love like it (fallen over several rows of seats like it).  Or the Schmeichel penalty save in that same game – I mean, have you ever witnessed a crucial penalty save? It’s unbelievable.

Great joy often springs from great tension. It’s the exhilarating release of emotion that totally takes you by surprise. Making something you thought was impossible, look incredibly easy. My son, riding his bike.

So Sir Ryan Giggs – you’ve been relegated to second place in the all-time joyous top ten.

My new favourite moment is my 4 year old son going it alone on his bike, free of stabilisers. BOOM.

I get a rush just thinking about it

.  

Who the hell is Ryan Giggs?

These days people make so much fuss about Giggsy, yet it wasn't always like that.  Not for the first 10 years at least.

Whilst he was liked in those early days, he certainly wasn't hero worshipped from the outset. Not by the fans nor the media.

He was fast but still lacked vision, light on his feet but easy to knock over. And he was annoyingly prone to injury. He rarely played for Wales - in fact he was largely disliked in Wales because SAF usually withdrew him (injured....again).




He wasn't even the female fans choice, not with Lee Sharpe on the scene.

He's always seemed to be in someone else's shadow.  Beckham took better corners, Kanchelskis was faster, Ronaldo had quicker feet, Scholes was smarter.

But whilst they all took the credit, Ryan was quietly working away in the background, pulling out those moments of brilliance to remind us he was there.

My two personal favourites are two of the biggest of his career. The 97/98 winner against Juventus at home in the Champions League and that unbelievable FA Cup replay goal against Arsenal in 99.

I was there for both.

So with 900 Utd games under his belt, these days he's lauded for playing so brilliantly at 38, something he puts down to yoga. He's rarely injured, he can actually cross the ball and he finally gave Wales a good run, being part of the team that almost made it.

We all have a footballing hero and mine will always be Bryan Robson. But in the early 90s as his career began to fade, the welsh wizard had already began to make his mark on the pitch (and on my player cam!)
He tracks back, he works hard, he quietly inspires all around him.  He could have played for England but he chose to play for Wales.

He should have played for Brazil.

Me right now - The Gallery

This is me, right now (11pm, Tues 31 Jan 2012)

Well it's a little bit of me (the bright white patch in the bottom right corner).

Tara Cain wants to know what we're doing right now, as we read this week's Gallery topic on the Sticky Fingers blog. It's 11pm, I'm sitting at the computer and a strange hooded man sleeps behind me.

Match of the Day is on. He turns it on, then falls asleep. I'm supposed to be working, but now I'm the one watching Match of the Day.

Me. Right. Now.       Life on the edge.

(can't go outside cos there's a big cat stalking us)

Tim Gudgin and 'coupon night'

Tim Gudgin retired today. He hung up his headphones.  That might not mean anything to many people, but it means a lot to me. His is a voice I’ve grown up with

 

Tim is the voice of Final Score, once the football results are all in on a Saturday, he’s the man you hear when they say ‘now here are the classified results’. His retirement has brought back all sorts of memories for me.

The classifieds were essential family viewing in our house. In the same way the Generation Game would be for some, the football results were for us. It was more than viewing and listening, it was a weekly family game.

Tim Gudgin has a way of reading the football results that is entirely predictable. He’s consistent with his intonation, so much so that you can guess the score just by the  highs and lows in his voice.

Brighton and Hove Albion 1 ………Arsenal…..?  the whole family would guess the rest.
 

But there was much more to it than that. My Mum and Dad were the local Littlewoods Pools Agents. (I’d almost forgotten this until today) They would collect the ‘coupons’ of every single person who took part in the village where I lived. It was the lottery of its day but with a door-to-door service. We’d collect your completed coupon (and your cash) and leave you with a new one. We might even throw in a spot the ball. The whole family helped collect, unfold, straighten, count money and bag.  Every Thursday, come rain or shine.

The football pools was about predicting football results. Home wins, away wins, draws and score draws. Fun if you’re a football fan but not that many of our entrants were football fans and most people stuck to the same numbers every week in the same way you do with the lottery. So rather than a game of skill, it became a game of chance.

Spot the Ball was even better. You were given a black and white picture from a football match, with players, pitch and goal, but no ball. You marked an X where you thought the ball would be. To be more accurate, you could buy (from us of course) a special stamp with lots of tiny tiny xxxxxxx’s on to increase your chances.

I owe my first foreign holiday to a win on the football pools (my Mum won, not me, I was only 4). We went every year after that.

So as you can see, Tim Gudgin reading the classified results was an important moment in our house. The moment we’d know if any of our clients had won.

We wouldn’t always be there on a Saturday, cos we’d actually be at the football. On those occasions it’s the unforgettable music of Sports Report that I remember. Getting into the car, cold or wet and switching on the radio. Brilliant.

It’s a sad day, the wonderful tones of Tim Gudgin will be heard no more and I’ll file my memories away in a safe place and rediscover them again in 20 years. 

Tonight I raise my glass to Tim Gudgin. I also raise it to my best childhood friend and fellow coupon-collector Andrea Hughes and the coupon-round of Green Street, Smithfield and Wrecsam Road.

Tim Gudgin retired today ages 82 yrs