All I want for Christmas.......

How many of you had your first Subbuteo at Christmas, I would imagine especially in the UK and readers of a certain age (Wrinklies, comes to mind as my eldest Grandson so lovingly calls me) Christmas was the time when it was possible to have one. I remember I had put it on my wish-list for Christmas 1969, I wanted the International Edition. Which at the time was approx £10 and would have perhaps been equivalent to a third of my Parents weekly income. They probably thought that paying the bills and, putting food on the table was a little more important than feeding the fantasies of a 9 year old. But fair play to my Parents they did get me a Subbuteo that Christmas, not the one I wanted but a Subbuteo set non the less. Was I disappointed at only receiving a Club Edition? You can bet you’re life I wasn’t. The feeling I remember was one of pure joy, I had my first Subbuteo.

The start of an era

The first tournament I played in was December 25^th 1969, it consisted of My Father, both Grandfathers, and myself, all 4 of us decided to play a round robin tournament 6 matches in total, plus the top 2 play off in a final.

The table was cleared after Lunch, and the women of the house cleared up whilst my Maternal Grandfather read the rules. I remember laying the pitch on the table, and setting up for the first game, whilst my Paternal Grandfather and my Father endeavoured to open a party six can of beer (does anyone remember those?), with a hammer and screwdriver. So we had it all Subbuteo, beer, and competition. You maybe wondering how a 9 year old remembers all this, well I let you into a little secret, I remember bits, and the rest has been filled in for me over the years by eye witness accounts, whose testimony may have been a little exaggerated due to the beer and sherry doing the rounds, but non the less a picture of the event could be drawn and looked at with the fondest of memories.

According to my Maternal Gran who was more than likely inebriated on Sherry fumes, (because all of her life she always said I’ve only had one glass when questioned about the quantity consumed, what she failed to add was how many times that one glass had been filled), her other half of the comedy duo my Grandfather did nothing but moan about the players not going where he wanted them to go and tried to change the rules to his advantage. My other Grandfather was heard to say if you want to cheat do it fairly, (now that's where I got that saying from), and this apparently was the first game.

 

My joy at opening a Club Edition on Christmas morning in 1969 is one of my fondest memories.

 

 

Other eye witness accounts

 

When questioned my Mother said my Dad played me first, (I do recall that), and lost, probably due to the ½ pint he said he consumed at “The Prince Albert” before lunch. Dad has and still does categorically state he only had the one glass, he must have been coached by his Mother in Law not to reveal the amount of times filling of said glass took place.

I remember playing my Paternal Grandfather next. He smoked a pipe and continued to do whilst playing me, it was like playing a Sunday morning league game, October time in the fog. Visibility was your own half, and on a 1200mm length pitch it was quite a pea souper. I’ve actually seen steam trains produce less emissions. Perhaps this was his definition of cheating fairly.

 

A simulation of my view of the pitch whilst playing my pipe smoking Grandfather cheating fairly

 

My Mother also said, as my Dad and his Father in law stepped up to take the field for their match, her Mother nudged her and said this should be fun lets see who throws their toys out of the pram first. A little background knowledge is probably required here. There was always a little rivalry between my Father and Grandfather over football, I can recall some in depth analysis between the two of them over the years, My Father an Aston Villa Supporter, and My Grandfather a West Bromwich Albion loyalist. Apparently the game was contested as a local derby, with no man giving an inch, all decisions where hotly contested, especially after my other Grandfather who decided to referee the match awarded a penalty to my Dad at the death, who promptly missed, much to the derision of his Father in Law. Who won the match 1-0.

 

The Grand Final

 

I remember playing in the final against my Paternal Grandfather, whose pipe by this time was just burning embers so I had a full view of the pitch, which was of no help whatsoever. The amount of beer consumed by my opponent seemed to enhance his on pitch abilities, it was like Canvey Island playing Barcelona or Malta against Brazil of the 70’s. The final score 5-0. To celebrate my Grandfather had another beer, but at least he shook my hand and said really close game that. I wouldn’t have liked to be on the end of a right thrashing if 5-0 was a close game. I often wonder if breath tests were compulsory for winners would I have won by default.

My Grandfather won the bragging rights after beating a 9 year old playing his 4^th game of Subbuteo. It was my first of many tournaments I played in during my youth but this particular one will always live in my memory, and it was my Grandfathers last, he had a stroke 7 months later and was never the same again, so a rematch never transpired.

So my first attempts at playing the glorious game ended in runners up spot to someone who only cheated fairly. At any other time of the year that tournament would never have taken place, and a big thanks to my Parents and Grand Parents for making some sacrifices during my childhood to give us all Christmas’s to remember and that Christmas in particular.

 

To conclude this brief tale of my past, I’d like to take an opportunity to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas in these strange times, and a Happy and Prosperous New Year.

 

Subbuteo is not just for Christmas,

Keep on Flicking.

 

Ian