History of my World Part 1.

Evening Strumpets,

It`s December 1976. 07:00 hrs. Or Seven O Clock in the morning as we used to call it!  The United Kingdom, and more specifically the North Eastern side of the United Kingdom is experiencing it`s worst winter in thirty years.  A five year old lad wakes up in a bed which he shares with his 13 year old Big Brother. 

Those words have initials which mean something to this child, and are not a reference to a pile of old nonsense C4/C5 TV bobbins twenty five years in the future.  Neither do they allude to an amazing novel written 28 years prior to him waking which he will read and love and talk to his future wife about, purely because she also loves it, at about the same time C4/C5 are showing their pile of old shite.  (Except for series 1.  That was class!  "I`m very disappointed with you Nicholas".)

The kid (Mark) has woken up and climbs over his Big Brothers huge frame (Six foot One at the age of Thirteen, can you imagine how tall he was and has always been to me) to go downstairs to have his cup of tea which as usual will be lukewarm with two sugars (remember this was the North of england in the mid Seventies).  This will be drank whilst listening to Radio 2 (Terry Wogan) with his Mam, and followed by a hotter version of the same drink ten minutes later. 

His pet dog Shandy is put in the back yard, and allowed to do his business.  Mark has no idea, but Mam goes out and scrapes up Shandy`s business with a hand shovel. In those days, Fairies did all the work.   But this time theres something different.  Mam isn`t in a rush to get Mark ready for school.  "You`re not going in today" she says smiling, "The heating in the school`s buggered".

Try now to imagine, just stop whatever you`re doing and try to picture what those words meant to him.  A lad who had until a year ago spent every waking moment at home.  A lad who within a week of being at "big boys school" had simply walked out of class/school and walked home sitting on the doorstep waiting for his Mam to come home.

Now he knows what`s different in the house.  None of his older Sisters, or Brother are making a noise.  This, if Mark is being honest, well this was normal.  Differently, though, this time his Mam isn`t shouting them to get up.  "Let`s just spend a minute you and me" she says, "and when you get older you`ll remember this like it was yesterday".  At this point she takes his hand and gives it three squeezes.  He looks at her and says "Whats that"  She looks at him and says "It means "I love you""  Mark immediately gives her four shakes back "I love you too". 

Big Brother (Gary) comes down stairs. Immediately eating four slices of toast, and drinking two glasses of tap water (he cannot abide milk. so that was the alternative in our house), he begins making his daft little brother and Mam laugh.  He tells Mark there`s going to be a big footie game today and that he`s been picked to play!  "Me?"  "Yeah you Enoch (his nickname for his little brother, still to this day),and you`d better not let me down!"  "Course I wont" Mark shouts and gets dressed.

The footie game was played in the "Back Alley". This was the cobbled area between the backs of houses where the bins were placed and the wagon would pick them up from.  They`re all still there, but these days they`re all Gated off, due to vandalism, theft and drugs (which, ironically, if we`re being honest was a typical night out in the Seventies)! Players in the game had nicknames.  Snotty Martin, Little Legs etc.  Mark was picked to be, of course, on Gary`s team. 

The back alley was covered in snow.  About four inches worth, and the whistle/shout went up.  None them had trainers on, just hand me down black shoes from their older siblings, whether male or female.  With a minute to go it was 7-7.  Mark had often been told he had a "Wilf Mannion" style (Google him overseas readers).

At this point the immortal phrase was shouted by someone "Next goal; the winner"!  It sounded like Marks Big Brother, but it wasn`t quite right.  The ball was kicked out by the opposing team and landed at Marks feet in his own Box.  His Big Brother was in goal and shouted "Go on, take them on!" Which Mark proceeded to do.  He ran one way and then the other, and each time a player tried to tackle him they slipped in the snow and he took it past them.  He could hear his Big Brother shouting "Go On Enoch!" and this gave him more confidence until each of his opponent`s was behind him on the floor.  With just the keeper to beat, he hit it smoothly into the right hand corner.

I can still see that ball going in.  I can still see the lads falling (some almost comedically) whist I "tackled" them.  But most of  all I can see my Mam`s face when Our Kid (which I now call the old get) told her what I`d done.  That`s my earliest clearest memory, and writing it tonight has reminded me of a couple of things.

1) The past is another Country, they do things differently there.

and 

2)  I could have played for Boro!

Ladies and gentleman  My Brother and My Mother.

Till the next one, learn something new.

Mark.