Blues & Beatles

Neil Roberts

Description

Duncan Ferguson. David Moyes. Paul McCartney. A father and a son. A passion for Everton, and a passion for The Beatles. Blues & Beatles is a story of football and music across the generations, showing in touching and hilarious detail how a young boy inherited his father's obsessions - and would one day pass them on to his own son. A journalist like his father, Neil Roberts has special access to his beloved football club, so his heartfelt memoir includes glimpses within the inner sanctum of Goodison Park as well as every unforgettable Everton moment since the 1970s, all soundtracked by the Fab Four. Along the way, Neil meets his heroes - including musical as well as Everton icons - and reveals intriguing connections to Dixie Dean and a famous Victorian footballer. But above all else, Blues & Beatles is a story of football and music shared by father and son.

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Popular music
• Memoir
• Lancashire
• Lancastre

Informations

• Publié par: Pitch Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 14 octobre 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781909178809
• Langue: English

Extrait

Pitch Publishing Ltd A2 Yeoman Gate Yeoman Way Durrington BN13 3QZ
Email: [e-mail] Web: www.pitchpublishing.co.uk
Published by Pitch Publishing 2011 Text © 2011 Neil Roberts
Neil Roberts has asserted his rights in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
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The publisher makes no representation, express or implied, with regard to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and cannot accept any legal responsibility for any errors or omissions that may be made.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
eBOOK ISBN: 978-1-909178-80-9 PRINT ISBN: 978-1-908051-12-7
Typesetting and origination by Pitch Publishing.
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Contents
Foreword by Bill Kenwright CBE
Prologue
The School Of Science
Starting Over
Mother
Help!
Real Love
Mind Games
Nil Satis Nisi Optimum
Back To The Egg
Here Comes The Sun
The Long And Winding Road
Beautiful Boy
The People’s Manager
The Fireman
Imagine
Epilogue
Photographs
Acknowledgements
For George and Liam
Foreword
by Bill Kenwright CBE
There are two questions I’m constantly asked, that really faze me. ‘WHY do you love your football club so much? Not support it – love it?’ And secondly: ‘What was it about the music of 1956 that changed your life?’
Two questions that are probably impossible to answer. All I can say is: ‘When you know – you know!’
I had worshipped Everton and in particular their centre-forward ‘the Cannonball Kid’ Dave Hickson for a few years before 1956, and the previous year I had written to every director telling them that the club was insane to have transferred him to Aston Villa. Similarly, I had enjoyed the few 78s of Frankie Laine, Johnnie Ray and Doris Day that my family owned. But until 1956, I didn’t ‘know’. Truly know!
Then on 20 October, 1956, the lowly-placed Blues travelled to high-flying Manchester United and with a young goalkeeper called Albert Dunlop making his debut, trounced the Red Devils 5-2 at Old Trafford. My life changed on that day. I knew!! The die had been cast and my whole life would be lived as a worshipper of the Merseyside team that played in blue. The following Saturday we smashed Arsenal 4-0, and if confirmation was needed (it wasn’t!) my decision had been approved by those up above who smile on us!
On that same weekend, Elvis Presley’s ‘Hound Dog’ went to number two in the charts (alongside Frankie Laine, Johnnie Ray, and Doris Day!). I had never heard anything like it. A rhythm, a beat, and a singer that got to me like no other had ever come close.
So my love affair started – and continues to this very day. And undoubtedly will for every day of the rest of my life.
When Neil sent me his wonderful book, long before it had been published, it reminded me so much of my own journey. The boys’ pen, the half-time gate, bunking in behind the church, queuing all night for a derby ticket, seeing ‘the lights’ at Goodison for the first time at a Lancashire Senior Cup tie, and crying all night after a defeat by lowly Bradford City. Just like Neil, I could try and tell you what it all meant to me – but I wouldn’t come close. I could tell you about the goals against the Reds; Bally’s from the by-line; Kingie’s drive which restored our pride; Sharpie’s strike at their place; TC’s unbelievable double reprieve, and probably the most famous of all – the one that Clive Thomas robbed us of in 1977. I could try to explain what they meant to me – but I wouldn’t come close. What I do know, though, is that hundreds of thousands of Evertonians all over the world would understand. As would Neil. And that matters.
They might also understand that ‘Don’t Be Cruel’ (the B-side of the aforementioned ‘Hound Dog’!) and ‘Let It Be Me’ by the Everly Brothers are as close to musical perfection as I probably ever want to get. But that’s more personal!
The author of this book found his particular musical heaven in the music of the Beatles, and Paul McCartney in particular. Of course I understand that. But it’s an odd thing in that when you go to school with someone (I met Paul on my first day at ‘big’ school when I was 11 at the Liverpool Institute and we have been mates since), they probably somehow can’t have the same kind of legendary status for you that they do for others. Although undoubtedly Macca is a legend and a musical genius – and he too is devoted to Elvis and the Evs. (But I am not too sure he is a Blue!)
And now there is George – Neil’s very own addition to the ‘People’s Club’. Like his dad, and like myself, George will relive time and time again those magical moments that seem to shape our lives. Not just our ‘Blue’ lives, but simply our lives. If I spent time with him I would tell him, as I will undoubtedly tell my new young grandson Finn, my stories of Wembley in 1966 with half an hour to go; Oxford in 1984 with nine minutes to go; and probably the most joyful and painful of them all for me, Wimbledon in 1994 with an hour left. And maybe, maybe, if it was a good day, I would just give myself a thought towards my overwhelming pride as I stood and watched us celebrate in 2009, through teary eyes, from the chairman’s seat, as we secured our first Wembley final in a decade.
It’s been my privilege over the last decade to be in a position where I could hopefully help shape the future of the club, not only for the hundreds of thousands of Evertonians who are out there right now – but also those who have yet to find their moment of decision. Like me, like Neil and like George, it will be a decision they will never regret. At that moment they will become a member of the greatest family in football. And more than my shareholdings, my chairmanship, and my place in the directors’ box, it’s being a member of the Everton family that makes me proudest of all. Neil will understand. George will understand. If you have bought this book you will probably understand. That matters.
Respect, Neil.
Bill Kenwright, 16 February, 2011
Prologue
It’s been a hard winter in England. More snow than we’ve had in twenty years, sheet ice and biting temperatures. But in mid-February, the edge has come off the chill, a mild breeze has replaced the shivers and I have a distinct feeling of spring in the air. It’s not natural for an Everton supporter to be this optimistic. And it’s not normal for my state of mind to be so full of hope. But I’ll repeat it. Spring is definitely in the air.
Perhaps it’s because my team has just reached the quarter-finals of the FA Cup for the first time in seven years. We beat Aston Villa yesterday. Not only that, but a 3-1 win against a team currently third in the league. What’s more, that followed a heart-thumping victory over Liverpool in the fourth-round replay. I was at the 1-all draw at Anfield. I was at the return at Goodison Park. And I was part of that picture. Part of the scenes of jubilation. I’ve had some high points since I started watching Everton. League championships. FA Cup wins. European triumphs. But victories over our arch-enemies are always sweet – and savoured. When Dan Gosling turned the cold night air blue in the 118th minute … let’s just say it was ecstasy the like of which I have rarely experienced.
Perhaps it’s not really spring in the air but that tantalising whiff of Wembley? We’ve had our first home draw of this season’s competition. And we play West Ham or Middlesbrough in the next round. Victory in that tie, and we’re into the semi-finals.
Or perhaps it’s because I’ve been thinking about my four-year-old son. Thinking about our time together. Thinking about the things we already share. Thinking about our future together. Dreaming about the day when I’ll take him to Goodison Park. It’s a simple dream, but I dream of that day.
A while ago, I went for a stroll. Two minutes later, I became conscious of a dream-like sound. A sound from my past. From everybody’s past. One of the soundtracks to all of our lives. But most certainly, one of the soundtracks to mine. An unmistakable guitar solo. A melody which has been etched into my soul since before my seventh birthday. I was walking past a house when I heard that raw, emotional piano. That electrifying, heart-tugging guitar. From a workman’s radio. ‘Let It Be’. That song was released on 6 March 1970. Eighteen months before I was even born. Thirty-four years before my son was born.
At time of writing, I have been to 320 Everton matches and I have more than 600 CDs. Music and football are my passions. They have brought me unbridled joy and unrelenting despair. They have brought me both comfort and sadness. They have provided me with direction when I have needed it and diversion at some of the lowest points in my life. They have given me something to share with my father. And now I want to share them with my own son.
Words of wisdom, as Paul McCartney once wrote. Whether or not we win the cup this year, Let It Be. Evertonians are brought up to be philosophical. And I will bring my son up to be an Evertonian. Let It Be.
The School Of Science
‘Evertonians are born, not manufactured. We do not choose, we are chosen. Those who understand need no explanation. Those who don’t, don’t matter.’
Young, Labone and Beamish
I was born with Everton in my blood. It is a source of great pride to me. And it forges my identity more than a