So here’s the thing, I was reflecting on that last posting where my fab grandson Sam, and mate Chizz, were interviewing me about things gone by. I thought to myself it was fun to reminisce but it’s raised some thoughts within me. When you get to my age the temptation must be to look back fondly on all those memories because your life is no longer cool. But mine is still vibrant. So what?
Well this morning I went to watch my old friend L play for England (no less) versus Ireland at walking football, over 70’s version. It was great to see him of course but from a spectator pov I’ll be honest and say I don’t find the game terribly thrilling at walking pace, though the guys obviously enjoy it and their families go mad for it – and they won! It’s just much more fun as a spectator sport played at running pace, to me. This weekend’s opening Premiership matches prove that. But I loved to see my mate play and well, clearly enjoying the experience and securing an England cap at 74 years of age. I mean how many people achieve that? Here’s a pic of him in action and a shot of probably the chunkiest referee I’ve ever seen…
Fact is I’d much prefer to remember L playing against me in the Southern Amateur League back in the late 70’s – he was a rampaging right winger and I was a resolute left back. We lined up against each other but neither of us realised we’d become lifelong mates till some time later. Afterward the matches L introduced me to a team mate who happened to play for a team called Crouch End Vampires who I also played for in the SAL when we moved to London after Uni. I started the chat by saying I played for them in 1975/6 and because I was out of condition at the trial I was plopped into the Vets side (at 23!). As it happened I moved up 7 sides into the 1st team within that first season but before I could relate any of this or ask about his history with the team, he just turned round and moved off and joined the queue for his burger and chips. Totally disinterested. Oh wow. Either he’s got no social graces and/or I’ve turned into a total nostalgia bore.
And I don’t think I am. But later in the car before I set off home I sent a Happy Birthday message to my old mate John Henry from the RWC 99 team. We always keep in touch and I sent him a pic that Fb popped up on my screen of our last get together meeting. I sent it to him with a HB message about ‘what a great team’. I subsequently thought hello, reflecting again.
Then tonight I was sat here looking at this poster above my desktop which we’ve just installed – it’s the publicity shots (downloaded from the web) of the greatest concerts we have been to…
I’ve spoken about the Hendrix and Led Zeppelin concerts before so won’t re-describe how face-tearingly amazing they were. But the Springsteen and Tina Turner do’s were sensational too. We saw the Stones at Wembley, Rod and Phil Collins at Earls Court and Cream and Tony Bennet at the Royal Albert Hall but they didn’t quite match up. Still it’s all some years ago.
Then tonight I found myself checking out for the umpteenth time the last few edition of the Sopranos which, in case you don’t remember, ended in 2007. Can you believe it – 14 years ago! Blimey, ‘Living In The Past’ by Jethro Tull is one of my favourite songs ever but you always say to yourself that’s not what you do right? I don’t think I do this because Caz and I have such a full life and we are even more excited and thrilled about what our daughters and grandsons are achieving.
We do look forward. But I do sense this increasing temptation to slip into memory mode as age creeps up. Almost like all your highlight moments are behind you. I’d like to think they aren’t but you suspect they might be. Bugger. Do you feel this too? Let me know.