THE OLD TOWN LOOKS THE SAME

I didn't just get down from the train and there weren't any yellow ribbons hanging from trees, but I did meet up with some old friends from my local town (village?) on Tuesday and the book displayed was one of the reasons for me heading south. I like to indulge in my past occasionally and what better excuse to be nostalgic for a while than having football business to attend to.

Mick Hatchard probably hasn't written a book before, I actually didn't ask him that, but he has put together a very good account of a small village club from 1898. The book is full of old photos, well reproduced, it has little arty nick nacks to liven up each page, like a old pair of football boots and an ancient ball, as well as programme covers, results, scorers and league positions when he has been able to source the material. It is beautifully published.

I didn't play much for my local side, which saddens me, but I helped out when I could. I remember refereeing a pre-season friendly when I was only 16, playing against the best team in the division with half a side when most of the the 1st team were at a wedding and scoring two on the day I heard I had got my place at Cambridge University. I think I had had a glass or two of bubbly. 

I also saw a team photo including my dad in 1949-50 when he was club chairman. He will not have moved into the village much before, having followed my mum out of London when she was evacuated during the hostilities and worked in the local munitions factory, which after the war became a metal heating pipe manufacturer, the major employer in the village.

It is always good to go back and I have to say, the book was a real bonus. If you happen to be a bit of a non-league anorak, like me, then this is worth having on your shelf.