95 A New Home

During the long school holiday in the Summer of 1968...

Local news… The Evening Post was launched. A free copy dropped through the letter box at teatime, Monday to Friday, for the duration of the holidays. I couldn’t see the need for it. We already had the Chatham Standard on Tuesdays and the Chatham, Rochester and Gillingham News on Fridays.

On the telly… Two new comedies started: Dad’s Army and Nearest and Dearest.

At Twydall Green… I bought my first ever single, Esther and Abi Ofarim’s One More Dance. After a dozen plays I was sick of it and wished I hadn’t wasted six and eight.

Football… a weekly magazine was launched on the first day of the new season in August.

After watching Sam Leitch’s Football Preview on the telly at lunchtime, I spent Saturday afternoon with my ear glued to the wireless. Listening for score flashes was tense, but exciting, with live second half commentary from one of the day’s big games. Something else to look forward to was The Big Match, a new London based football highlights show on Sunday afternoons.

Wednesday August 14^th. Gillingham v Orient in the League Cup

My first ever night match was something special: the haze of smoke drifting over the crowd; Johnny Simpson’s legs glistening with liniment under the floodlights; the atmosphere in the ground and the nerves I felt whenever Orient crossed the half way line, I loved every minute of it. With plenty of excitement in a game that finished 2-2, the highlight of a magical night came from the opposition. From our position on the Gordon Road terrace, Paul Parker and I were right in line with Orient centre forward Vic Halom when he swivelled in mid air to smash a volley past Johnny Simpson.

A new home: Moving to a three bed-roomed house had been on the cards for sometime for our family of nine. A house on Harold Avenue, off Sturdee Avenue was under consideration but Mam opted to move to Aylesford Crescent, at the bottom of Eastcourt Lane.

‘You’ll like it,’ she said. ‘There’s a gas fire in the living room, so no more messing about with a coal fire. It’s got two toilets, one inside, one outside. And it’s got a lovely big garden with an apple tree and a pear tree, and a big wall where you can play football.’

As part of a three way switch between families occupying two, three and four bedroom council houses in Twydall, we had every reason to be cheerful on the day we marched from Crundale Road to our new home.

I liked the idea of getting home from school earlier and instant heat from a gas fire was an unimaginable luxury. Mam was right about everything except the garden wall. Dad had other ideas about that, claiming that part of the garden for his vegetable patch. ‘If you want to play football, clear off over the road,’ he said. So I did, taking my ball across the road to Eastcourt Green, which was overlooked by The Sportsman.

On Saturday August 31^st I returned to Priestfield Stadium to see Gillingham v Luton Town. There was little to cheer in a 3-1 defeat, with Brian Lewis, Laurie Sheffield and Bruce Rioch scoring for Luton. Just as I was going to football more often, Gillingham seemed to be falling apart.

At home… Mam cut our hair, ready for going back to school, with an electric clipper she’d invested in when sending us off to the barber got too dear. At a time when long hair was fashionable I had my customary crew-cut. Not so my fashion-conscious brothers Dave and Mike. They weren’t keen on pudding basin cuts either, which they only submitted to once they realised a haircut like mine was their only alternative.