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The Diary29 April 2004: Halfords Lane, Memory Lane!Tonight, we Dick Eds hied ourselves mob-handed down to the Throstle Club for what would be the penultimate time we?d see Albion supporters gathering there in quantity, and what a Halfords Lane trip down Memory Lane we had, too. John ?Goo ?an bile yer yed, referee!? Homer was the MC for the night, ably assisted by his sidekick, Alan Cleverly, and it?s no exaggeration to say the whole thing truly was a nostalgia-fest for not a few Baggies present tonight. As some of you will know already, the concept of the Throstle Club chain, first mooted in the early sixties, and finally coming to fruition a couple of years before our 1968 Wembley triumph, was something light-years ahead of its time. Very much involved in bringing their new baby into the world were long-serving Supporters Club luminaries like Harold Whitehouse, but what made the concept so special was the astonishing fact there were not just one, but around six of them on the go at one point. The Halfords Lane establishment we all know of, of course, but junior Baggies may not realise there was yet another situated on the East Stand side of the Brummie Road. Moving further afield, then, later still, another was opened in Langley, one at Hamstead (The Golden Throstle) on the site of an old pithead baths, and last, but not least, yet another place opened its doors to punters in Lower Gornal ? in what had been a cinema in a previous incarnation. One thing temporarily eludes me, though ? which one of these was also known as The Gay Throstle? Definite snigger-making material today, but a name used in all seriousness during more innocent times. Those were the days when ?doing the clubs? was a highly-remunerative way for top-class variety acts to make their dosh, and certainly, all the branches of the chain, but The Golden Throstle in particular, managed to attract some astonishingly well-known household names to its stage. People like Bob Monkhouse, Mike And Bernie Winters, that sort of act; well known just about everywhere because of much TV exposure. The quality of these performers meant that on any given Saturday night, Albion supporters knew a good evening out was guaranteed, and they?d be richly entertained by such top-notch acts. A shame, then, that the savage recession in the eighties pretty-much saw off this sort of thing everywhere in the region ? well, that, plus the stark fact peoples? preferences regarding what constituted a good night out moved on greatly, plus the parent football club needing to sell off some of the family silver to keep finances on an even keel. It wasn?t long, sadly, before most of these places were no more, boarded up, vandalised, demolished and built upon, and, in the case of the Birmingham Road premises, deliberately torched by person or persons unknown. For many years longer, the Halfords Lane club alone gamely soldiered on, catering for pre-match drinkers, plus a flourishing crown green bowling club, and some Bingo nights, but because of plans to build a youth academy on the site within the next few months, the Last Post will finally be sounded on the place right after the Forest game. I?m sure I?m not the only one whipping out the old mourning-gear when it finally does come to pass; through the years, I?ve had some cracking times there, not least of which were those Jeff Astle Roadshows. Absolutely hilarious, and you?d have to be a really miserable sod to keep a straight face after an evening spent in the company of the King, believe you me. There?s also the shades of other Albion players long, long gone still haunting the place; look around the stage area when there?s no-one there, and you can almost feel their presence, the games, the wins, the injuries, the jokes, some laughter, some tears. What was that fifties hit song, again? ?Memories Are Made Of This?, and as far as that club?s concerned, it sure as hell is true, believe you me. Although tonight?s proceedings could have been a wake, with John reading the eulogy, it most certainly wasn?t. For starters, lots of old players were invited to the thrash: Ray Barlow, much to The Fart?s delight, Stan Jones (my goodness, hasn?t he changed in appearance over the years?), Daryl Burgess, Richard Sneekes, Ally Brown, Bomber Brown, kit-man Dave Matthews, plus Premiership referee Alan Wylie, who, very sportingly, took all the (predictable!) abuse in his stride. There was also a buckshee raffle of various Albion-related items constantly on the go throughout the proceedings, plus an auction of Albion memorabilia gracing those bar area walls in days of yore. Fair play, all the proceeds went to a Midlands charity dealing with disabled kids, and the good news was the event made over ?700 quid on the night. We also had various local media luminaries in attendance; both local Baggies journos, Malcolm Boyden, plus Bomber?s broadcasting side-kick, Mr. Ross. Also punctuating the proceedings were the brisk sales of Viking headgear for Saturday ? and thanks to the continued vocal efforts of Mr. Homer tonight, it now seems we?re about to get a new song(s) for the occasion. The first? The musical theme running all the way through the Hollywood epic ?The Vikings? which starred a distinctly one-eyed Kirk Douglas, of course. Not reproducible in print, really, as my PC doesn?t do humming very well, but with a bit of luck, you?ll sure as hell hear it at the Madjeski come Saturday. The theme?s not that difficult to pick up, honest. The other? If you?re around the same age as this column, cast your minds back to those first Monty Python shows, and their rendition of the ?Spam? Song. Yep, you?ve got it, one lot of ?warriors? does the ?Spam, Spam, Spam?..? bass-line bit, whilst the remainder all sing in unison, ?Spam! Lovely Spam!? Aw, if you?ve ever watched The Pythons, you?ll get the idea, and with any luck, the whole thing will spread like wildfire around that away end both before and during the game. I just can?t wait to see the head-scratching going on in the Press box if it does! As befitted such an occasion, all the ex-players (and ref!) on view were in good humour when asked to give their various opinions on topics ranging from what they thought of our away support to what were the most diabolical refereeing decisions ever perpetrated on/by them. Bomber Brown revealed what happened when we scored at Sunderland the other week ? his fist went towards the roof of the press-box with unparalleled velocity, and his little set of headphones went flying over the heads of colleagues with great rapidity, apparently ? and also let us into the nitty-gritty of a couple of occasions when he managed to blast a couple of perfect strikes in the back of the net, only to see the efforts were ruled out by the man in the black. Interesting, one of them, at Leicester, because the ball actually hit the back of the stanchion before flying out once more. Everyone rushed up to congratulate Bomber, only to see the man who counted indicating a goal-kick instead. Bomber reckons the guy must have been the only one there not to have seen it. He also mentioned another occasion when the ref cocked it up big-time, but in our favour, for once. Mind you, it was The Dingles on the receiving end, which made the error even more delicious, and this one I could relate to, purely and simply because I happened to be there when it happened. The year was 1967, we were playing ?them? at the Custard Bowl, and come the fag-end of the game, had gone from three-nil in arrears to pulling back two-thirds of the deficit. Enter Fate in the shape of Bomber; he tried to dive in the box for a low header on goal, but suddenly realising he had no chance whatsoever of connecting, struck the bobbling bladder with his fist instead. Unbelievably, instead of blowing for the expected foul, the ref actually gave the goal, making it a highly-hilarious three-all! Bad news for Dingles keeper Phil Parkes, though; he knew what had really happened, was as mad as hell, and then committed football?s answer to hari-kari by jumping on the poor whistler?s back in sheer indignation and fury! Guess what? He walked, and we got a point from what had been a lost cause. Now tell me crime doesn?t pay? Daryl also chucked his hat into the ring by recalling the absolute nightmare he had when given the job of marking one of Real Madrid?s best players in a close-season American tournament; the guy was a world-beater, and we ended up losing by about six goals. We were also treated to tales of Ossie Ardiles and his great love for the attacking code, to the extent that when any player passed the ball more than a score yards, our disgusted manager would hiss ?Wimbledon!? from the sidelines. Even Dave Matthews had a tale to tell, all about the time Derek Statham was taken (very!) short during an away game, then had to go off the pitch something sharpish to change the by now somewhat-soiled and smelly lower garment. The ref covered for him by engineering an ?injury? among one of our other players, thereby halting the game, but by the time Del Boy finally returned, in pristine shorts this time, the crowd were getting mighty restless, and our physio was at his wits end wondering just how long he could spin out the break and not have a crowd mutiny on his hands! Happy days. Even Alan Wylie had his contribution to make; his own ghastly blunder was at the end of a game involving Palace, who needed a win to get in the promotion stakes. Up until the last minute, the game had been one with ?goalless draw? written all over it. Then, the opposition got a corner and our hero decided that if they scored, he?d blow for the goal, and then full time, and if they didn?t, he?d allow the keeper to belt the ball into the middle of the park, then blow. Trouble was, it didn?t quite happen that way. The ball was cleared, sure, was belted up the park, but as our hero blew the first couple of ?peeps? signifying the end of the game, Palace actually netted! And, as our hero had already started to blow, of course, the goal couldn?t count. Oops! Oh, and there was yet another aside from that tame whistler; according to him, most Premiership refs really rated The Shrine for atmosphere, and so forth, loved our supporters, and were really sorry to see us get relegated, at which point, a bellow from the audience pointedly informed him, (and totally reduced everyone to hysterics in the process!): ?WELL, WHOSE BLOODY FAULT WAS THAT, THEN?? That?s just a small taste of what we heard and saw tonight; a cracking evening, it really was, and a fitting way of saying goodbye to premises that really became something of an Albion institution over the years. The Supporters Club also did us proud by laying on a lavish buffet, and yes, it was good to see people like former Halesowen Branch luminary Dave Beddard returning one last time. The good news is the Supporters Club have managed to secure a replacement HQ for next season, and that?s in the Hawthorns Hotel, just up the road. I?m told the room they?ve been promised is far bigger than the current Throstle Club bar area, so they should be able to accommodate many more pre-match drinkers with relative ease. The Great Master Plan is to rebuild the Halfords Lane Stand, of course, and include new supporters club premises in that, but that?s contingent on us staying with the big boys for three years, at least ? so don?t hold your breath. Back on Friday to do my ?usual? away-match thing, with Reading in mind. Until then, keep boinging! And finally?? If you can, spare a thought for my beloved tomorrow night. His ?other love?, Hereford United, take on Aldershot in the away leg of the Conference play-offs, so the lad?s going to be suffering absolute agonies for ninety minutes, poor soul. The game?s being televised by our old chums Sky, of course, but I?m not altogether sure if that?s a good thing or not, especially with a hypermanic partner sitting nearby and likely to go nuclear at any time should a decision go against The Bulls or, worse still, they concede. I?ve already given my four cats due warning; hopefully, they?ll take the hint and vamoose for a few hours. Removal of sharp objects from the Wright living-room is also a ?given?. Mind you, the Bulls are the bookies? favourites to do the biz, so with any luck, ?Im Indoors might be celebrating a bit of a ?double-header? come the end of hostilities. Any road up, don?t forget to light a candle for the lad, y?all ? he needs all the help he can get right now! - Glynis Wright Contact the AuthorDiary Index |
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