Most sports fans have watershed moments. Moments they attribute to contributing greatly in them initially falling in love with the game. Moments they remember from early on that got them hooked. Moments they will remember fondly and reminisce about for the rest of their lives.
For some it would be the first time they walked on the hallowed turf, that first walk to the stadium to watch their team with butterflies in the stomach or perhaps a particularly iconic moment in the game that made them stand up and take notice. For others it would be the first time they met a famous player or the first time they watched or played the game.
A lot of these memories for me, as for many other people i’m sure, also bring back fond memories of great times spent with family and friends.
When I think of my love of football and indeed Man United I think of the FA Cup Finals of the past. One of my earliest memories, sat watching Man United vs Crystal Palace (1990) with my dad in my living room. Running out into the garden at half time to have a kick around with my brother. This one memory alone conjuring up a bagful of further memories of fun times playing footy with my brother.
A school trip to France a few years later, Brian McClair sealing a 4-0 victory against Chelsea (1994). Some of the class ecstatic, others dejected. This takes me back in time. Reminds me of classmates standing on the tables in celebration, ribbing the Chelsea supporters of the group. The Chelsea supporters claiming that they were unlucky when Gavin Peacock hit the cross bar and saying that they were the better team in the first half and would have won if only they'd scored first. That evening of pure ecstasy, elation, unbridled joy.
For me, cricket doesn’t have a huge number of early memories associated with it. My mum and dad weren’t keen for me to watch too much cricket. Understandably, they felt I could be doing something better with my time other than sitting in front of the TV for hours on end. Though, given half the chance, I would happily have sat and watched every single ball of a test match. I find it sad that there are kids these days that are only interested in T20 and haven’t fallen in love with the test game in the way that I did.
Most of my earliest and fondest memories involve watching cricket with my Grandad. He really enjoyed cricket and would happily while away a few hours watching the game. He had strong beliefs in it being a gentlemanly game, with little celebration. I remember how horrified he was when Dominic Cork appealed vociferously for a wicket. Turning to face the umpire, legs wide apart, arms outstretched, all mad eyes and shouts, with white streaks of sunblock covering his face. It didn’t sit nicely with him at all. He would reminisce about the good old days of no celebrations. Where the odd polite enquiry and a few pats on the back were the norm.
From those days I remember watching Atherton vs Donald live. Walsh and Ambrose tearing strips out of every opposition, the seeming invincibility of the Aussie batting line-up (the Waugh brothers in particular). Dickie Bird and David Sheppard umpiring away. I remember visiting my Grandparents for afternoon tea desperately hoping that we’d be able to see the game until close of play.
There have been many many happy memories since and i’m sure there will be many more to come. Whatever these memories might be they’ll have to go a long way to beat those first few memories. The memories that helped to sow the seed!
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