the belfast boy

how could i forget? i've furtively edited my last blog and added late remembered people, places and events but the best just slipped my mind. age, what have you done to me? i was in windsor park when he scored a legitimate goal out of banksies hands; i was there when he was sent off against scotland for chucking turf at the ref; i was there when he played with bobby moore at fulham; i was there when he played for rangers against chelsea in a testemonial. he was the best. how could i forget?

watch out for forthcomeing articles on danny blanchflower, harry gregg, peter mcparland, wilbur cush, bertie peacock, david healy.........

i was there

another few quiet weeks in worthing so once again i thought i'd cast my mind back and try to remember who and/or what I have seen “live” and consider which was best.

music: nina simone, woody herman’s herd, neil young, van morrison, elvis costello, brian wilson, bruce springsteen, neil diamond, john prine, iris dement, bonnie raitt, aimee mann, bob dylan, steve earle, tom paxton, tom russell, joan baez, roger mcguinn, nanci griffith, emmylou harris, mary chapin carpenter, thea gilmore, leonard cohen, josh ritter, billy bragg, wilco, loudon, rufus and martha wainwright, richard thompson and many many more……. never saw savoy brown but leo works for me.

so what was best? – impossible to decide! i think a lot depends on mood! of the big events, leonard was sensational and scores 10/10 but intimate little shows at the greys in brighton also score high because of surprise, surprise their intimacy - kevin montgomery, jeff finlan, chip taylor and carrie rodriguez. but how could i forget kris kristofferson dedicating a song to me in belfast [his only dedication] - sunday morning coming down. great song - thanks mary!

sport: was there when barry mcguigan beat pedroza to become world champ in shephard’s bush, when northern ireland beat england at wembley in 1972 (later spoke to terry neil about his goal, that goal!), was in the estádio da luz when the earth moved for becks, was at aintree to back highland wedding [100/8] to win the grand national (after getting a tip from the trainer’s neighbour whilst on a geography field trip to durham) – rushed back to aintree and then went to goodison park to watch everton play tottenham – my first live match in england. went to the open when greg won, saw brighton lose the fa cup, was at wimbledon final when jan kodes (who?) won, and was there when connors beat rosewall, and when bj king beat evert, saw grundy win the derby, and ireland win the triple crown, sussex win the 50 overs thingy at lords. was on telly with sven [got the video], have nick faldo's hole in one ball [walton heath - also got the video]. went to yankee stadium to see the yankees play, met the great '89 49ers including joe montana and jerry rice [legends]. scored a try at ravenhill [o/k 7 a side tournament but the field was still green grass and graced by some of the the greatest - love alliteration!]. NOTE: i keep adding to this paragraph as my failing memory recalls long forgotten events. keep tuned in..... just remembered beating the london batallion boys brigade at sion mills when i was captain of the ni [norn iron] battallion - sounds military but i can assure you it wasn't. i can now reveal that our secret weapon, who took most of the wickets, was a young catholic friend [the bb was protestant] who went on to play for ireland - raymond moan. i didn't care then and i don't care now.

what's best? - no contest! the clones cyclone - barry! however my first sporting memory was when my dad brought me to see ireland play new zealand in belfast in the late 50's. i can still see that in my mind's eye whilst many of the big events have faded. pass the bottle!

next week I will describe my greatest successes with vegetables.

when I grow too old to dream

so, so many quiet days and nights in worthing i felt compelled to write to dispel fears amongst my rabid readers that i might have ceased to exist. no –

i'm feelin' glad all over
yes i'm-a glad all over
baby i'm glad all over
so glad you're mine*

is anyone glad anymore? i’m glad you asked. i’d rather be glad than sad, wouldn’t you?

*dave clark five. no. 1 january 1964. i was glad then but i’m gladder now.

harry's game

yet another quiet week in worthing so i thought i'd ruminate. it occurs to me that some people, sad people, don't know who harry gregg is or why i assumed the frivolous diminutive for this blog. i'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone….i am not, nor have i ever been, a fan of manchester united but i was always a fan of harry gregg. he had the misfortune of playing for “them”.

i guess most people have reasons for buying their first television. my dad bought ours in 1958 to watch northern ireland play in the 1958 world cup. we didn’t even have hot water or an inside loo - he was good on priorities! but we huddled around the small black and white screen (such interference in those days, especially in the middle of the sperrins - we called it "snow") and could just about pick out the ball. i can still remember most of the team - danny blanchflower; captain of spurs and perhaps the most accomplished half back in the history of the game, jimmy mcIlroy; gifted inside forward [what they?] and a legend in burnley; peter mcparland; villa winger who scored 5 goals. how many wingers would score that many goals in one tournament today? would he even get a game? a young derek dougan – the doog! and many, many more. but why am i writing this now?

simple. the recent remembrance of the munich air disaster reminded me of my true, real-life hero - harry. i saw him talk (no, he blethered – it didn’t matter. it was always about what he did, not what he said) at the recent 50th anniversary and it confirmed my opinion "once a hero, always a hero". he could have been a fireman – he didn’t run away from that crash he ran back in dragging others clear. what a man. i can still see him, in my mind's eye [1958 again – keep track!] running out of his box, grabbing off his cloth cap, to head away a dangerous long ball. and through all that snow on my tiny screen! i know it happened, i saw it. i remember it – i’ll never forget it. why don’t they show it again? how many of today's keepers would be multi skilled enough to do that?

does anyone read my ramblings? if you do, let me know; who is your hero and why?

mrtony i presume

christmas came and went, quietly, in worthing so i thought i'd go in search of the 21st century's intrepid explorer - mrtony. if you haven't read his blog, shame on you! found him amongst the kiwis; not sure he recognised us at first but he seemed to be enjoying himself in the underworld - eventually he understood the odd word(s). "come with us - soft bed, nice shower, breakfast prepared, car hired"! it didn't take long; normal service resumed. good man - great guide!

highlights -

[sadly] decadent business class. can i ever travel again without complementary lounge, champagne on boarding, choice of dinner wine, four course meal, cheese, port, flat bed etc etc? guess i've worked long and hard enough to merit it but...................

the politeness and helpfulness in hong kong

the spectacular scenery in new zealand. just when you think you've seen something special there is something better around the corner

franz josef glacier

cessna flight over the southern alps

the [fast] history of a young country - discovered only 160 years ago. trying so hard to do so much right

queenstown - is there a more scenic and exciting town anywhere?

san francisco was all it's made out to be. loved it!

lowlights -

hong kong pollution

san francisco begging. didn't expect to find it on most streets. a sad reflection in the self proclaimed land of democratic freedom!

would i do it again? oh yes!

name that tune.....

another quiet week in worthing following my birthday celebrations. i think i survived. nice family meal (both nice, the family and the meal) and onwards for some musical diversion. knowing that i like the odd bit of music (yes, very odd sometimes) my family got me an ipod with the capacity to put a man on the moon - undoubtedly more than enough to hold my eclectic collection. anyway it got me thinking about what music has meant to me over the years. why do i like certain types of music? some people go for technical ability, or the words, or the mood or simply the moment. it’s not about “genre” whatever that means. surely you just listen to music you like but maybe that’s my defensive response to being defined as a country fan. i confess to liking some country music but i defy anyone to sit through a steve earl or wilco concert and not feel the walls shake. even allison krauss (an excellent though relatively refined bluegrass musician) has recently achieved acclaimed album success with an old led zepp stalwart. besides; how many rock legends pay homage to the influence of hank, gram and the man in black amongst others on their music? but where did my love of music start?

mid 50s: my sister olga and brother john loved music and sang in local halls. i remember and could still sing ‘singing the blues’ by guy mitchell, ‘last train to san fernando’ by johnny duncan, “rock island line” by lead belly (later lonnie donegan). and then there was ruby murray (remembered for the wrong reason today); who remembers wink martindale’s ‘deck of cards’ or ‘who’s sorry now’ by connie francis. frankly i’m surprised at the tunes and lyrics that are flooding my brain as i sit here, late at night, in front of blank screen with a mind that can’t remember what it had for dinner. must move on quickly or this could be the longest blog in history….

the 60s: we all remember, or know of, the music of the era. beatles, stones, dave clarke, manfred mann, marmalade..... the list goes on and on. but the music that is etched in to my psyche belongs to the mamas and papas, simon and garfunkle and in my college years, leonard cohen - a much maligned writer. a rare poet with a wry sense of humour. if you cut your wrists to his songs you missed the point! i didn’t go to much live music in those days – there wasn’t too much to go to in norn iron but i did get to see taste with a young rory gallagher, nina simone, woody herman and his herd - still remember that gig vividly although we didn’t use the word “gig” then. what does it mean literally? the best brass and woodwind musicians i have ever heard! even went to see our cilla, englebert and herman’s hermits live. englebert kindly did requests and someone in omagh asked for “the cow with the crumpled horn”. sadly , he didn’t do it.

just realised how long this blog could be. it could become a serial to run through the 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s to include neil young ...ryan adams.....dylan....van....nanci griffith....emmylou....kristofferson.....morrissey....elvis costello....cowboy junkies....iris dement....gary moore....john prine....moody blues....joan baez....jeff finlin....roger mcguinn...bob woodruff....suzy bogus...billy bragg...thea gilmore....tom russell....jason downes....bruce springsteen....brian wilson....chip taylor...josh ritter....richard thompson and many many more. who? i hear you ask. you don’t know my favourites any more than i know yours but that’s the joy of music. it’s what you like and when and where you liked it – loud, quiet, meaningful, subversive or simply nonsense. it doesn't matter.

finally leo - keep singing the blues. it still works for me. we’ll get our free bus pass together.

you are old, father william, the young man said……….

another quiet week in worthing so time to reflect –

what is “old”? can you see, feel, smell, taste or touch it? i hit 60 tomorrow and i still don’t know. is it in the body, the mind or the soul?

is it simply the perception of others or is it within me? when my dad was 60 i was 11. that seemed old then but he was a survivor and he hung around long enough to become my best friend. my mother too. neil young said it best “once an angel, always an angel. you’re as close to heaven as i will ever be”. whatever the family crisis, she simply said “och”. there is no word in the dictionary to adequately describe the calm that expression conveyed. it came straight from the heart, nowhere else, and said everything we needed to hear; sympathy, remorse, pain, rebuke….. but that doesn’t answer my question. am i old?

my body has seldom been good. rugby, athletics, cricket, football, volleyball…. all quite useful in my youth with awards to confirm a modest prowess. once scored a try at ravenhill and trod the same hallowed turf as the great mike gibson, the all blacks, the springboks and even my brother roy who did so in a much more distinguished way. played rugby in dublin on the day they blew up nelson’s column. shook hands with nick faldo, chris eubank, terry neil, lawrie sanchez, sven and nancy amongst others and watched the hurricane play snooker in a dingy hall in belfast before he blew out the lights all over the uk. transient!

my mind has never grown old. i still see myself the way i was and sometimes the way i would like to be. but what of others? mary was, is and will always be the best person i ever met. david, tony and iain give me equal pride and reason to go on. remarkably, i still have some good friends who walk with me, talk to me and tolerate my ramblings.

what of the soul? inherent guilt! an old prayer too often rattles round my brain “i have done those things i ought not to have done and left undone those things i ought to have done…...” true: but i really hope i have not hurt anybody along the way.

hey, ho. still time to put things right. lots to do. normal service resumed tomorrow….