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  • RAMBR0 RAMBR0 Jan 7, 2010 07:46 Flag

    What's All This Then...on pitch wear

    What the hell has happened to my game of football...remember when you were about 8 years old in those frigin "hot pants" that they called shorts...thin shirt socks and your boots playing on a frigid saturday morning for school, on a frosted frozen pitch...(and for some) with the old leather ball with the laces and stiching...you know, the one that would knock lesser souls out cold when it was soaked through on a rainy day.

    Anyway, I paint that picture as a contrast to the long shorts, socks so long they're really stockings...scarves (see that Petrov geezer at Citeh?)...and gloves for crying out loud! And these guys get paid HOW MUCH??? No wonder few of them have any character and grit.

    Any thoughts I do we just chalk it up to another "sign of the times"?

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    • All that's missing with these guys now, Rambro, is their headphones---so they can hear fuskcing music while they're strutting about.
      H---extremely jealous.

    • ...ah, the old leather lace up ball that left the imprint on your leg when you got smacked with it in a wall....
      ...and going to the 'pound' when you 'forgot' your kit and picking up the old boots with toe caps ans 'smelly' kit - you never forgot twice..

      My pride and joy ...two things.. 1) a pair of Puma Tottenham boots and then (and I can't remember in which order) 2) a pair of Stylo Matchmakers - laces on the side. Flashy boots and I still couldn't play football. Obviously the problem was that I hadn't been fully kitted out - now wearing gloves, scarf, hat, shades, garters to keep my socks up and braces for my short would have turned me into Grinzeanov....

      But back to the point - I don't know why they need the gloves/scarves etc as as soon as it snows, they call the matches off anyway.

    • I remember those old leather footballs.
      Weighed a ton when they were wet and damn
      near broke your foot when you kicked it.
      Got one full in the face on a frozen February
      afternoon when i was a kid. Still got the lace
      marks on my face now and im pushing 50.....lol

      • 2 Replies to andrew l
      • If the lace marks were across your forehead, Andrew it would have been a goal.
        H---1" thick shinpads.

      • Do you know what - reading all the comments on here and I suddenly had a smell memory. Do you know what I mean or am I the only one?

        It was as if I was back in the late 60's and walking into the dressing room to the smell of Deep Heat. Throwing my carrier bag with my boots in onto the bench and when I got them out they were frozen solid in a curled up Lawrence of Arabia way. I had to soak them under the hot water tap to "melt" them before I could put them on.

        The smell of that dressing room will, I sincerely hope, never leave me.

    • Alan, I swear it's true, well at least the bucket of cold water bit, one foot at a time mind you.

      I lied about the other players being stiff as boards, but surely I'm entitled to a wee bit of dramatic licence, am I not?

    • I remember an ankle deep muddy day in the 70's when I controlled the ball 48 yards out at the Vic. There was nothing on so I said fuskc it. Scooped the ball up and cracked a beauty, it hit the underside of the bar and crashed into the net. Their keeper was struck in horror with the bar shaking and that. Jim Montgomery was the guys name.

    • That's nothing!!!!

      I remember a muddy day in the late seventies after I moved from midfield to centre half, I tackled their inside left in my own area, brought the ball out to the half way line, beat 3 defenders to find myself 5 yards outside the left hand corner of their penalty area. I too had absolutely nothing on......everybody thought I was a streaker (maybe that's how I beat the three defenders) I looked up and saw their keeper off his line, so I chipped him in Hoddle fashion and stood there hands on hips, triumphant and watched the ball drop under the crossbar.

      My team mates went wild, the crowd went wild, even the ref wanted my autograph.

      And to this day, I only have to walk into the pub and they are lining up to buy me a drink.

      Mind you, I haven't a clue what the keeper's name was.

    • Now now boys, stop trying to out-do each other with your stories of footballing glory days of yore!!

    • Or the name of the pub.

    • Too funny...haven't got a story like that...did crack a 30 yard left footer just under the bar (I'm not left footed)...but that was here in the US...don't count...what do they know eh (club team)...that said you could always get a good game in the Kearny/Harrison, New Jersey area...still something of a East Coast hotbed of young talent...and where the NY Red Bulls (bloody cheek calling themselves New York!) have put up a new stadium to be opened next season (I have to go just because its practically on my doorstep...in US terms that means its less than 20 miles away). If the game isn't up to snuff however, I'll walk out at half time (Walked out before the game when they played a "doubleheader with the England - Colombia international a few years back...the MLS made a mistake and put the international on first...I looked back as I filed out and the stadium (70,000 seater) was practically empty. So much for football (the kicking kind) in America

    • My memories of football in my youth was of Sunday morning on Hackney Marshes or in the Wood Green area.
      My first wife, girlfriend at the time, was watching our game in the snow. Freezing cold and her in her fake fur mini coat, just about covering her asre!! Stood right on the touch line and some one just booted the ball clear and it smacked into her thighs. She still came to watch after that, must have been love!!!
      Yes those lovely old leather footballs.

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