Drop ten, turn and Face.’ Quilty’s Football Yarns 11

Drop ten, turn and Face.’ Quilty’s Football Yarns 11

One of the sadder things that occurred while I was working in schools football was a ‘teachers strike’ of about twelve weeks that absolutely decimated the competition. Not that the industrial action wasn’t justified but it just happened to have a devastating impact on the Saturday Schools Football competition. At that time teachers weren’t paid to coach but everyone relied on their goodwill to do so. Unfortunately, telling kids that there were no games for three months meant that they literally found other things to do. East London School’s football was never the same again after that.

St Pauls Way and Warwick Boys School

In 1990 I lost my job working on the Stock Market in London but was fortunate enough to have my previous career of teaching to fall back on. Old friend and teacher Martin Rabenau got me back working pretty quickly, out at St Paul’s Way, Bow. This school had a population of mainly Bangladeshi kids who loved football but it was always difficult to get them organised to play school matches. One big problem that the local education authorities brought upon the school was inadvertently done. Most of our kids came from Muslim families. When the Somali Civil war resulted in a few thousand refugees coming to East London, St Paul’s Way was identified as a suitable place to send the children involved as they shared a common religion, Islam. Unfortunately, the new comers lacked language support and quickly clashes between the two groups broke out. Many of our Somali kids had recently been child soldiers in the conflict and few were used to the discipline of lessons and attending school at a particular time. A few kids had ‘war wounds’ from the conflict. Things escalated because a lack of cultural insight underestimated the degree of vendetta and grudge the group possessed. A scuffle at school, seemingly resolved would usually return ‘out of the blue’ the following day, the parents had discussed matters with the children but they tended to come in with renewed anger prompted by parents! Eventually, resources were brought to play and the clashes reduced. However, that was not before ‘scummy Sun news-hounds’ came trolling around the school seeking gossip.

When I eventually got another permanent job it was out at Warwick School Boys, Walthamstow in the Waltham Forest district. This was in late 1991. I was running around desperately dropping off my CV to local schools, we actually lived at Highams Park at the time. Warwick School Boys was five minutes from my house. Going into the busy school foyer I had planned to be in and out quickly. It was to my surprise then, as I handed my CV envelope across the counter, a tall gentleman took it but engaged me in conversation by grasping my arm. I had no idea who he was but quickly told him my ‘casual teacher story’. It was then he told me he was the school Headmaster, I had passed my interview and was I okay to start on Monday morning? Amazingly random story but it provided me with a permanent job just five minutes from home! At Warwick I taught History and PE. The school was Church of England but reflective of change in the area,our students were 80% Pakistani in origin. As usual I organised the football team and was in my element. We made the local district semi-final going down to local rivals Norlington. Again, we never actually had our own field so spent hours taking lessons on the playground tarmac, occasionally going to Wadham Lodge for a Games afternoon. Down at the Lodge we had ex-footballer twins Bill and Ben King putting on football sessions.  It was during my time at Warwick that we decided to immigrate to Australia. It all came about very quickly. The Headmaster was devastated. He asked me to help find my replacement. Fortunately, I had very recently got an old school mate Steve Tuvey to come in to take Squash and Football lessons, he was a qualified coach of both in addition to being a carpenter. When I suggested that Steve take over my role it all fell into place. The students knew him. He looked the part of a PE teacher and could control the kids. The only small problem was that was not a teacher! The kids even believed that Steve was my brother (in spite of having the same first name!). The Headmaster asked Steve if he was willing to train on the job, to enhance his one O Level and to this he agreed. In the event Steve worked at Warwick for 15 years! He became Head of Year 9 and also taught PE and Woodwork. In all seriousness I don’t think I have ever met a more natural School teacher than my friend and replacement Steve Tuvey. Confident of his ability to take my job at Warwick, my family and myself now moved on to start a new life in Australia on March 17th 1992. Steve only retired from his teaching job this year after 28 years moving to Devon.