Mayhem At Boreham Wood
A SCHOOL friend caused absolute chaos when we went to an Isthmian League fixture together at Boreham Wood FC in the 1970’s.
We were only 12 years old and we took two buses to reach the Broughinge Road stadium. I had already developed a keen interest in Non-League affairs but my mate tagged along even though he had no interest in football whatsoever.
So we got to Boreham Wood and I stood intently enjoying the game. Now around the pitch, there was a perimeter barrier and then a gravel path adjacent to the touchline. For reasons best known to himself, my friend decided to climb over the barrier and sat down on the gravel.
Furthermore he inexplicably began digging a hole with his bare hands – he was digging away, digging away through the gravel and right through the mud underneath.
After about half an hour, he had dug down three feet, four feet, maybe five feet. And he subsequently jumped into the hole and commenced trying to excavate a deep tunnel across under the pitch.
Well no one noticed this until the linesman, who was running up and down that touchline, took a step back and almost fell directly into the freshly created cavity.
Hence the match was stopped and two flustered Boreham Wood club officials came sprinting over and shouted at my friend to get him up out of the hole. They proceeded to fill in the damage using a couple of shovels.
The action recommenced and my pal just disappeared. Probably for the best I pondered to myself.
Anyway, there were 200 spectators in attendance and we all suddenly started hearing this very loud but extremely bad football commentary on the game we were watching. It really was the worst commentary I’d ever heard:
“OH THE BALD BLOKE’S GOT THE BALL, THE BALD BLOKE’S GOT IT, HE’S GOT THE BALL AND HE’S FALLEN OVER – AND THE GOALKEEPER’S GOT IT NOW AND HE’S USELESS TOO – AND THE REFEREE HASN’T GOT A CLUE – AND IT’S STILL NIL-NIL HERE…”
Everyone in the crowd was looking around trying to work out where this appalling commentary was coming from. And I thought: “Hang on, I recognise that voice!”
Therefore I looked up and up and up… and I realised my friend had scaled 60 feet to the top of a floodlight pylon. In fact, he was hanging by one hand noisily commentating.
A sombre public announcement followed over the tannoy:
“Would the small boy on the floodlight pylon please come back down otherwise we’ll have to call the police.”
Fearing the long arm of the law, my mate inelegantly clambered back to ground level and we made an extremely quick departure on the final whistle.
Nowadays nearly 50 years later, I visit Boreham Wood Football Club fairly often to commentate on matches. Thankfully though, my school friend doesn’t go to football anymore.
A Butcher's White Coat
AS a young QPR supporter growing up in the 1970’s, all I ever wanted for Christmas or my birthday was…a butcher’s white coat!
There were no replica kits back then so supporters had to improvise. Indeed, the most fashionable R’s fans favoured the type of garments which were usually worn by high street butchers. These full length coats would be lovingly covered in felt tip pen QPR graffiti.
The names of the players were written in different colours on the back of the coat in large letters…
- PARKES
- CLEMENT
- GILLARD
- HOLLINS
- McLINTOCK
- WEBB
- THOMAS
- FRANCIS
- MASSON
- BOWLES
- GIVENS
- LEACH
And the rest of the coat would display a number of carefully scribbled slogans such as:
“BOWLES IS GOD…COME ON YOU R’S…WE’RE GOING TO WIN THE LEAGUE…PRIDE OF LONDON…WE ARE QPR…DAVY THOMAS ON THE WING…GERRY FOR ENGLAND…SEXTON IS OUR LEADER…”
The fans who wore these coats used to stand together at the back of the Loft End. These guys epitomised the unique terrace culture at Rangers.
Another vital fashion accessory in those days was a QPR silk scarf. This would not be hung around the neck, but was actually tied around the wrist instead.
Some supporters had scarves on both wrists. And they were often knotted so tightly that all the print on the scarves had totally faded.
I still have my silk scarf amongst my extensive collection of Queens Park Rangers souvenirs and memorabilia. Yet I could never persuade my mum to buy me a butcher’s white coat.
*Credit for photos in this article belongs to @TonyIncenzo*
