Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Yesterday, in the narrative Till Death Us Do Part, I wrote of a late April evening in 1970 when introduced to the misery of witnessing my football amours, Leeds United, falling at the final hurdle. The first of many heartbreaking experiences over the past five decades when they were a hairsbreadth from achieving their seasons trophy or promotion... Continue Reading →
On Tuesday evening, I took a journey on foot that I've taken many of times over the past 47 years. A sojourn that commences with parking in the vicinity of the Dragon Pub on Whitehall Road, Leeds, with a ultimate destination of Elland Road football stadium. It's a walk that starts with crossing Whitehall Road, followed by an amble down a bramble bush... Continue Reading →
Ninth month 1970 Boy of seven summers, witness of owl badge eleven inaugural Peacocks by name but not by feather, plumage white of spectre Shirts a blank canvas at kick-off, soon rendered by sweat and blood Child’s blank canvas rendered by fledgling football memories Pater’s eternal gift for offspring; a point from where he can't regress Amongst tribe, son's... Continue Reading →
I concluded yesterdays yarns from the scorebox at the point I’d been promoted within the scoreboard operatives hierarchy. I was thirteen summers old and due to the promise shown at updating the wickets and overs, I’d been given the extra responsibility of ensuring that the teams and the crowd (including legendary old players) were kept... Continue Reading →