As a young boy of around 6 or 7 years old, my life revolved around football. I loved watching it, of course, but my greatest enjoyment was playing the game with a passion. I was small for my age (I still am) but overcame my stature with a heart as big as anyone's when playing for my school team. I used to practice for hours on end in my back garden keeping the ball off the ground with my head and feet and generally honing my close control and ball skills.
When I was 8 years old I broke into the school football team, mainly as a striker, but also occasionally as a left sided midfielder. My mentor was the PE teacher at my Roman Catholic primary school in east Manchester. His name was Mr Edgar. He was a passionate Ulster man and encouraged and developed my team mates and I into a decent team. Our home pitch was an all weather red shale surface which tended to give us an advantage as all other teams we encountered largely played their home matches on the grass-less mud-heaps of the 1970s. Our home kit was the Celtic green and white hoops which had been the school football team's colours for many years. They hadn't bought any new kit for our age group for several years so the shirts were like rags. On home match days Mr Edgar would empty the newly washed ragged kit out of a bin bag onto the floor resulting in a mad scramble to grab the least torn shirts. The ensuing pushing and pulling would usually rip them even more !
I stayed in the school team for the next 3 years. We never won a trophy but did have some excellent results along the way. Our away colours were all royal blue and in better condition than the home kit and the away days were always an adventure. We would be split into different parent's cars to take us to such exotic, far flung places as Longsight, Ardwick, Ancoats and Newton Heath. My best ever performance was in a Catholic Cup match away to St Anne's, Ancoats, when I scored a genuine hat trick i.e left foot, right foot and, unbelievably for me, a header. I was all of 4ft something but still scored with a header direct from a corner. As I moved into the last year at primary school, aged 10, I wasn't growing at anything like the rate of my team mates and the opposition lads. I had developed my football skills even more, however, which kept me in the team but also regularly found me wanting in physical battles with opposing kids. This was the 1970s and, even in the professional game of that era, players weren't protected by referees like they are now. Despite regularly getting kicked all over the place, I stuck at it leading Mr Edgar to have a quiet word with me after one match. There were 2 Chris's in my team so he used to refer to me as "Little Chris". He said "I've picked you for a trial for Manchester Boys". This was the most exciting moment of my life so far. I ran home to tell all the family. Some were impressed but others remarked "You?! How did that happen you little squirt?!" and such like. This didn't bother me as I was going to be the new Colin Bell !
There were 3 others from my school team also picked for trials which, initially, was for the east area district. In my first trial I was played out on the left wing (possibly Mr Edgar's input) but I didn't usually play in this position for my school team. Despite this I had a decent game and dribbled past the full back a few times and got a couple of good crosses in. My real success came though when I scored a goal. We had an attack down the right hand side, on the opposite wing to me, resulting in a shot from the edge of the box. I followed in the shot as the goalkeeper parried the ball which rebounded to me. I took one touch then slid it past the goalkeeper into the corner of the net. I was elated as I ran back to the half way line. There was a large crowd of parents, scouts etc on the sidelines but I could see Mr Edgar on the side closest to me. After the game he said "Well done little Chris. That goal may have just got you in the next trial". Mr Edgar was proved right and 2 of the other 3 of my school team mates also got through. He also told me it was 50/50 for me up to the point where I scored, however, I had done exactly as he had always told me, which was to always follow a shot in for any rebounds etc and this had shown the scouts that I had a natural instinct as a goalscorer.
The second trial was for 22 boys, cut down from the first trial. There was to be one match, 11 v 11, to determine the final cut. I was played on the left wing again with one of my school team mates in midfield (Jon Grisdale) on my team. I was happy with this as we always played well together in our school team. As we lined up though, my heart sank. On the opposite side was Joe Cipolla. He was a defender on our school team and a good friend of mine. I was gutted. It struck me straight away that it was unlikely both of us would now get through. Joe is of Sicilian descent and was really strong. I played ok but felt like I let myself down a little in this game. Neither of us made the final cut but our unfeasibly talented midfielder, Jon Grisdale, did and he went on to successfully play for Manchester Boys for several years.
My secondary school didn't have the same interest in football like my primary school had. I was forced to play rugby, go on ridiculously long "cross country" runs through the mean streets of Openshaw, and even play bloody Lacrosse! but very little football. As a result my development suffered and as I continued to grow only very slowly (eventually reaching 5 ft 7in !) I convinced myself I would never make a professional footballer. I still had a kick-about with mates and later played for works teams etc but my heart had really gone out of trying to take it any further.
In the modern game, of course, we have had small skilfull players get to the very pinnacle of the game. The likes of Maradona, Messi, Aguero and half the current national Spanish team are diminutive and have all proved that small stature is not an obstacle today. In the 1970s I grew up in, big and strong seemed to be the foremost attributes. Of course, I'm not saying I would have been a world beater but in the modern era (together with a supportive secondary school football network, which I didn't get) I may have had a better chance of progressing in the game. Oh well, what might have beens etc.
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