Family History Fun: A Sporting Life

"A Busy Time" is this month's theme from Sepia Saturday with this week focusing on sporting events.

Meadowbank Stadium in Edinburgh and the opening ceremony of the Commonwealth Games, 1986 - a wonderful colourful spectacle on a joyous occasion. We enjoyed the parade of the nations in their varied uniforms and traditional dress, and clapped enthusiastically at the pipe band and Highland dancing displays.

Court No. 1 at Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championships, 2018, enjoyed live by my daughter and granddaughter who soaked up the atmosphere. (for the uninitiated, this is the British Lawn Tennis Grand Slam Championships held in summer with wall-to-wall TV coverage).

Sporting activities, even as spectators did not feature much in my collection of family photographs. It was said my mother was good at the high jump, but no photograph exists of her prowess. However my father was very proud of playing football.

Dad is on the second row right as vice captain of his school team at Broseley, Shropshire

n his own words:

"I was mad keen on soccer, so much so that I had a trial at Birmingham with the English schoolboys. My teacher took me in his car to that and to a second trial at Shrewsbury.

One Saturday when I was working as an errand boy, two directors from Birmingham Football Club came to see Dad and Mum to sign me on - they refused, saying I was too young to be away from home. I was not told about this until later and sulked for a month!

But a bit of glory followed, when my school team entered a cup competition. I was vice-captain and we got to the final - and won the cup, the first ever for Broseley.

One of the supporters took a carrier pigeon along with us and set it loose at the end to let Broseley know the result and to prepare a welcome, as we were bringing home the cup!"

My father often mentioned that a photograph had been taken of the team's success, but that it had disappeared or been thrown out - he felt quite bitter about that. So I set out to try and trace it.

Unfortunately I only had a broad indication of year for the event. I contacted Shropshire Archives who gave me a copy of the entry in the School Log Book noting the team's success and naming the team. Broseley Historical Society put my enquiry on their online newsletter. I was delighted to hear from three members of the society with more personal memories of the pigeon story - and even better a photograph of the football team itself with my father identified as Perce Weston. I always thought Dad hated his middle name of Percy, but he seemed to be known by that as a youngster.

This is the earliest photograph I have of my father and I was so grateful to the Society for filing this gap in my family history. My father retained his love of football all his life and was an avid watcher of matches on television, right up to his death at the age of 91.

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On a generation to a similar photograph of my brother in the hockey team of Broughton School, Edinburgh.

My brother is front row - second left.

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What about my own sporting activities? I have plenty of memories - but no photographs.

The egg & spoon race, bean bag race, sack race, three legged race & wheelbarrow race (no doubt some of these have since been curtailed for "health and safety" reasons), plus the humiliation of dropping the baton in a relay race - these are my early memories of Primary School keep-fit activities. Do UK bloggers remember the "Musical Movement" BBC Radio Schools programme, where we danced around the hall pretending to be a roaring lion or a a leaf blown about in the wind? That was more my idea of physical activity.

Nifty at Netball - At my first secondary school, I loved netball with memories of crisp autumn days and sunny skies glinting through the trees as we dashed across the court, jumping high for the ball and shooting at the net, in our sports kit of sky blue aertex shirts (a polo shirt today) and short navy pleated skirts. I felt like a promotional poster for Healthy Active Britain.

Hopeless at Hockey - But at 14, we moved across the country and I began a new school with new subjects - such as hockey. I hated it and my mother was not too keen on having to buy me hockey boots and a hockey stick. I had never played it before, compared to my teammates who had two years play ahead of me. I hadn't a clue and dreaded getting hit on the shin by a hockey stick or even worse on the head by an over-excited player and losing my glasses. Being chosen to play goalie was even worse, having to don the heavy shin pads, and either stand still and be bored if the play was all at the other end of the pitch - or face a mob determined to get a goal passed me. Hockey meant being cold, wet and miserable with frozen knees and hands and muddy boots and legs. If netball represented brightness, I saw hockey in shades of gloomy grey. Not surprisingly I never made a team and had the pleasure of playing in fronr of a sporting crowed!

I was an unadventurous creature, so Rounders was Risky - the shame of not managing to connect bat with ball, or hand with ball if fielding, or again the risk of getting hit on the head by someone eager to run me out as I dashed for the first base.

Tennis was Terrific - I loved it - the grass courts and the white tennis outfits. From the age of 12 I was converted to being a lifelong Wimbledon fan. I still get excited by it, as I did then and a few years ago visited Wimbledon on Men's Championship Day - purely as a ground spectator, sitting on the hill to watch play on the big screen, savouring the atmosphere and enjoying the traditional strawberries and cream. So at least I have school to thank for introducing me to this lifelong pleasure!

Family talent in sport improved with my daughter joining her school gym club team and winning the regional cup.

Grand-daughter followed in her footsteps, liking nothing better to run, jump. climb somersault, and vault etc. from an early age, and later sampled gymnastics, cross country, basketball and rugby. She doesn't need to go to any exercise class to keep fit and proud parents and grandparents are pleased to be the spectators, though not in a crowd!