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Since no one really reads these things or has any interest in them (because in most cases you've never met or never will meet me) the following information is only for those individuals who like plugging names from times past into search engines and seeing what comes up. If you are one of those people and some of the following seems to match drop me a line here I was born on a (probably cold) September day in 1966 in the great city of Hartlepool. This resides on the North-East coast of England and is a reasonable distance south of Newcastle. Unfortunately this places it somewhere near Middlesbrough. While the town and its surrounding areas should be famous for such items as the birthplace of Robert the Bruce (the Scottish bloke who did something or other a while back), the first British civilian casualties of World War I, and the source of ancestors for both sides of the Queen's family it is rather better known for two reasons :
The story of a shipwrecked monkey being washed ashore during the Napoleonic Wars and hanged by the local crofters in the belief that it was a French spy is certainly the stuff of legend. Unfortunately the same cannot be said about the football team. Best known for a record number of (successful) attempts at applying for re-election to the football league the team is typical of so many in the lower leagues, battling against lack of money, poor crowds, and, on occasion, the bailiffs. However the odd bright spot does crop up such as a FA Cup victories over top-flight opposition (Crystal Palace, both times) and the continued improvement over the last few years. However it appeared to be business as usual this year as they flirted with the drop into the Conference. A couple of wins and draws in the last few games kept them safe. For a detailed site on the club's (mis)fortunes visit Kev's In The Net. After a brief flirtation with the English school system at Jesmond Road it was time to move to pastures slightly further afield. Seventeen thousand kilometres further afield actually. The wide brown land of Australia awaited the arrival of yet more 10 quid tourists. The family settled down in the Illawarra for a few years. After a brief stay at the Fairy Meadow hostel (tin sheds, almost like army barracks) it was time to move to Kanahooka. Now to be honest it was all part of Dapto but you never admitted you were from there. Dapto is famous for one thing only. The dog racing track. So you always said you were from "down Wollongong way" rather than own up to Dapto. Actually, the place is immortalised by a radio station thirty years ago. The station, 2KY (yes I know), is a news and talkback format but makes its name by covering any race in Australia. While it was covering the lunar landing the following was heard : "This is one small step for man. One giant leap...Racing at Dapto dogs in the fifth". Kanahooka was actually a great place to live. It was just starting to be built up as people moved out from the centre of Wollongong and was no where near the state of suburbia that is has reached now. At this time new shops were being built and a new high school was under construction a mere 5 minutes down the road. Add to this a low amount of traffic for such an area and football fields nearby and it was a good time to be a kid. The local primary school I attended was Hayes Park, a rather pleasant place which managed to highlight very quickly that any future career I had was not going to lie in professional sport. Coming soon : The Eighties
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Me with one of the first fish I caught. Unfortunately that gave me a somewhat biased view of the sport which was subsequently shattered by many other less successful expeditions. |