‘Drop ten, turn and Face.’ Quilty’s Football Yarns 6
Old Parmiterian Glory
The Old Parmiterian’s are the old boys club which sprang from Parmiter’s School in Bethnal Green. My old School. Before you can ever discuss the success of this club it is necessary to acknowledge the contribution of club stalwart and legend Frank Mariani. This bloke has driven and advocated for the club since the mid-seventies. In my year at school, Frank has worked tirelessly to improve the club. Be it finding players, providing top rate communications or finding venues to base the club, he was and is at the centre of all such efforts. Usually the club runs about sixteen sides. First grade all the way down to Super Vets for the Over 45’s. I played with OPFC as an all age player but took the opportunity in 1985 to play for their Vets or Over 30’s side. This decision actually means that if I actually get to step on the field in 2020 I would have played Vets football for 35 years! Playing for OPFC undoubtedly provided me with the most successful period of my playing story, Five Cup Final wins and a League Title. One particular final stands out from the eighties. We made the Final of the AFA Novets Cup. This was where teams from all the various Old Boys Leagues came together. In this case it was open to All Age sides below a certain grade, we qualified as a Vets side from OPFC. As a rule, the games tended to be played somewhere around the North or South Circular road in London, this was where most clubs were based. On this particular day we had to go west to a neutral ground for the Cup Final. All was well as our players and supporters arrived before the game. My late dad Sid came along to watch, which was great. Only one person was missing central defender and fellow school teacher, Johnny Pearson. He had the team-kit. With thirty minutes to kick-off we were all relieved to see him arrive. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to bring our shirts! As embarrassing as it was we needed to find something to wear. Fortunately a bystander piped in to say he had an old set at home and like our shirts they were white. Within ten minutes he was home and back with a vintage set of ‘Admiral’ shirts from the late seventies! Fashion statements aside we had no real choice and quickly donned the shirts musky smell and all! Back then there were no substitutes allowed in the competition, so if you were picked to play you always got a full game. As ever nerves played a big part in the final and having gone ahead 1-0 we then quickly conceded to go back to being all square. Cup finals are so intense that in the first few minutes you often forget to breath and feel like you are almost suffocating. The final remained in the balance with the game drifting towards possible extra time, I scored what was probably my best goal ever. As anyone who has played with me knows I always take long throws in the game. This time I launched it right into the box, from ten yards from the corner flag. Their centre back won the header and the ball came back in my direction as I trotted back onto the pitch. The ball seemingly hung in the air for an age. So long in fact that I actually had time to consider how I would send it back again. So there, from the corner of the penalty area I opened my foot to catch it with a side foot volley. Again time seemed to stand still. Up it looped back toward the still crowded six yard box, almost in slow motion it started to dip, clipping the bar and far upright before nestling in the net. Scoring in a final is an amazing feeling so when it turned out to be the winner I was so proud playing in front of Sid.
Playing for a side that can only use eleven players can also have its drawbacks. One season I had played for OPFC all year and we only needed a point to win the League. You can understand then, my disappointment as the captain Peter Rocca told me I wasn’t to play in that final game. A combination of tactical and temperament reasons were given for the decision. Peter said that win or lose I had been part of it. In the event we won the game to be crowned champions. In retrospect, that incident was a life lesson for me. It gave me a player perspective that has helped me numerous times as a coach across the years.
As a player I’d usually played as a winger back then. Used to score six or seven goals a season but was in no way ever prolific. That was until one year I turned out for a side called Thorn Athletic. We were a good side but lacked a big striker. You guessed it they pushed me up front as centre forward, a position I’d never played previously. Well in this season something happened and the football gods looked favourably on me. I scored 19 goals in 14 matches. Headers, long shots and volley’s, they all flew in. That was it. Just one season of goal-scoring glory never to be repeated.
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