Recollections of The World Cup

Of course, as a Brit, 1966 was the pinnacle so that's why its been downhill ever since then. I remember being amongst the crowd watching Bobby Moore and that toothless guy, not Erik Sykes, on the balcony of The Royal Kensington Hotel holding the cup for all to see. Of course I didn't make a special trip to see that but got caught on the top of a #73 bus so saw it all while cursing to myself about missing an evening of Bar Billiards at the Drayton Arms. Back then there was no reason for the police to do much more than enjoy and join in - how times have sadly changed.

1970 was a highlight too. For many of the matches I sat in a sterile sound control room at the BBC with a pair of the most uncomfortable headphones ("cans") wrapped round my head. In one ear I had David Coleman and in the other the crowd noise. On the desk in front of me a big black Bakelite knob. My job was to balance this stuff so that the sound from Coleman which went to air was audible. Left turn for more Coleman and right turn for more crowd. Really demanding stuff but real hard after a goal was scored. There used to be many more goals back then. There must have been a million folks who would have changed places with me, what being in the "thick of things" but the Beeb had chosen the one guy who had real issues with soccer and sleep. The players were at altitude and I felt as if I was too. And Coleman's off air language was really colorful too!

One lasting soccer memory was when the Workington Reds, bottom of the 3rd Division (North), were leading Matt Busby's Man U 1- 0 at half time at Broughton Park in the 3rd round of the FA Cup. A stinger from part timer George Aitken had the town alight. We lost 1-3 after a brilliant 8 minute hatrick by Dennis Violet in the second half. Six weeks later was the Munich Air Disaster. Six players who beat Workington lost their lives but not Dennis, who went on to retire and run a motel in Florida together with John Young from Hibernian.

As an aside, I was also the lone sound guy on Apollo 13, sitting and listening to the NASA talk-back when those now famous words, "Houston, I think we have a problem" stopped the world in its tracks. But at the Beeb we were stood down and I was bemoaning having to be there and not in bed asleep or whatever. On hearing those words I picked up the red phone and told James Burke, "Mr. Burke, I think you have a problem."

After he hung up, and on the second attempt to call him I managed to get the message through and what followed was 5 days and nights of no sleep and dandruff all over the place from Patrick Moore. One other bit from that episode which never made it into the movie; as the mission was entering the re entry phase an on board computer needed re programming. No power off memory back then. Ground read about 120 lines of binary code up to James Lovell who, on the fly, punched the alphanumeric pairs into the machine. No mistakes and no line-by-line read back. Why can't anyone get my phone number right first time when I tell them?

1974 through 1990 is a blur and I have no idea or memories of the great event. 1994 I remember because I was there. Well at least stuck in a huge traffic jam on a Pasadena Freeway on finals day. Also, with games played at the Stanford Stadium in Palo Alto, I was a bit of a star, my 15 minutes of fame as it were, at Momo's South of Market in San Francisco as a Brit "who knew about the game". Little did they know. Did you know the Americans actually asked FIFA if they could play the matches in four quarters!

Blank again till Germany in 2006 and Treptower Park in Berlin for the opener against Ecuador. That was my first, and hopefully last, experience of what they call today a Fan Zone. Golly gosh what a zone that was. So many people with shaved heads and I had to pay a 2 euro deposit on a bloody plastic cup and then queue for over one hour to get it filled for 4 more euros. Most of the golden liquid got spilled trying to get through the crowd at the bar which was a blessing in disguise because the lines for the bogs stretched to Moscow. I got my solace from the fact that it was from this park that an enterprising West German flew a home made flying machine one morning out of West Berlin to rescue his brother, successfully, from East Berlin. The picture is of a German cop but he could well have been from Mars. A really scary guy but I couldn't say too much because he was a dead ringer for my host (inset in the picture) for the evening. Thank God Germany won! I never got my money back on the cup because the redemption tent closed well before the end of the game. And they say the 2006 event gave respect back to Germany! It certainly gave the organisers of that event chutzpah.

And now to Pattaya and World Cup 2010 with only a local TV and commentary in Thai. Oh for my old job at the Beeb back. That way I could turn down the commentary totally and just enjoy those plastic blowers which seem to have made more news than the matches themselves.
For those who actually enjoy The World Cup, good luck but for me its a total and complete bore but now, even after England were dumped out by Germany, the hysteria rumbles on.

I have to agree with a friend from KL that England's performance was a disgrace but then what more could we have expected? A manager from Italy who doesn't even speak English and a Premier League full of stars and managers who aren't even eligible to play for the country. Where are the old apprentice schemes which brought young talent to the fore from Tom Finney, the roofer from Preston, to the odd one out these days,

Rooney from the Everton school. And please don't forget "teamwork". You can have a field full of the greatest talent on earth who will always lose if the manager doesn't understand and instil a feeling of working as a "team". Lawrey MvMenany knew that when he took Southampton to the top with almost no war chest to buy players; just an ability to bring together a team of disparate players and make them believe they could!