16-06-2022, 12:38
I absolutely loved playing in goal, because it gives you the chance to be the hero. There's no one to help you. No brilliant assist. Just you and you get to save the whole team. Catching crosses delighted me. Catching a ball when diving full length was wonderful too. No block is ever a great save. Catch the ball and the attack is over. And never punch the air and pickford it. The ball in your safe hands says it all. A nod is enough.
Yes I did play out. I started at centre half because I was the tallest kid and I didn't cry or try to duck when heading the old heavy leather ball. Played full back too, I liked that especially left back though I was right-footed because my strong foot stopped the winger cutting in and I was quick enough to hold him outside and make crossing difficult.
Debut in men's football aged 15 - Right Wing. I'd never played forward, or midfield in my life. But you're 15 and filling in, you go where you're told specially when your dad is running the team. I assisted in 6 of the 8 goals we scored in an 8-2 win, had a really good game up against a hopeless defender, and my dad didn't put me in the team again for 3 months. He died when I was 17, I'd forced my way into the 2nd team goals, which my dad didn't like either, but he couldn't argue with a winning team. When he died just after Christmas that season the first team came to get me, so there I was, rugby for school Saturday mornings, decent class men's football in the afternoons and "disapproving" school none the wiser.
Yes I did play out. I started at centre half because I was the tallest kid and I didn't cry or try to duck when heading the old heavy leather ball. Played full back too, I liked that especially left back though I was right-footed because my strong foot stopped the winger cutting in and I was quick enough to hold him outside and make crossing difficult.
Debut in men's football aged 15 - Right Wing. I'd never played forward, or midfield in my life. But you're 15 and filling in, you go where you're told specially when your dad is running the team. I assisted in 6 of the 8 goals we scored in an 8-2 win, had a really good game up against a hopeless defender, and my dad didn't put me in the team again for 3 months. He died when I was 17, I'd forced my way into the 2nd team goals, which my dad didn't like either, but he couldn't argue with a winning team. When he died just after Christmas that season the first team came to get me, so there I was, rugby for school Saturday mornings, decent class men's football in the afternoons and "disapproving" school none the wiser.