kirsikka
UTC Legend
The recent Tom Lockyer return for the Luton game and with Everton being up next brought this to my mind.
In my final year at primary school in Bournemouth, my school won the town cup. I was on the right wing but on the left wing was a tiny terror three years younger than the rest of us. The difference between an 8 year old and 11 year old is immense but he was incredible.
His name was John Marshall and even then you could see he was a bit special. I got picked for that school team when I was 8 and up against 11 year olds I was totally lost. Yet he looked like one of the best players on the pitch in the same situation.
I have one very clear memory of an interaction with his Dad. My socks kept coming down in one match and, in a thick scouse accent, he said "Come here son". He then got some tape out and taped them up just under the fold. This was revelatory to me, coming from a non- sporting family, that parents could have such genius solutions to sporting problems. Taping up socks... who knew?
Strange how a single moment of kindness can stay with you decades later.
I digress... John's talent blossomed to the point where he was playing for England schoolboys and was one of the chosen few to be at Lilleshal, if you remember that.
Loads of clubs wanted to sign him but he was set to go to Everton. I don't know but from his Dad's accent I guess that was his family club.
Tragically, seemingly from nowhere, he suffered a heart problem and on the day he was due to sign with Everton he passed away aged 16.
Hopefully it would have a different outcome today with all the facilities and screening that takes place. Still, I feel a tinge of honour that I got to play on the same team as such a special talent and sad the world never got to see him in full flight.
There's more on his story here for anyone interested: https://www.efcstatto.com/stories/the-john-marshall-story/
That's all. A melancholy memory brought back to the surface by recent events.
In my final year at primary school in Bournemouth, my school won the town cup. I was on the right wing but on the left wing was a tiny terror three years younger than the rest of us. The difference between an 8 year old and 11 year old is immense but he was incredible.
His name was John Marshall and even then you could see he was a bit special. I got picked for that school team when I was 8 and up against 11 year olds I was totally lost. Yet he looked like one of the best players on the pitch in the same situation.
I have one very clear memory of an interaction with his Dad. My socks kept coming down in one match and, in a thick scouse accent, he said "Come here son". He then got some tape out and taped them up just under the fold. This was revelatory to me, coming from a non- sporting family, that parents could have such genius solutions to sporting problems. Taping up socks... who knew?
Strange how a single moment of kindness can stay with you decades later.
I digress... John's talent blossomed to the point where he was playing for England schoolboys and was one of the chosen few to be at Lilleshal, if you remember that.
Loads of clubs wanted to sign him but he was set to go to Everton. I don't know but from his Dad's accent I guess that was his family club.
Tragically, seemingly from nowhere, he suffered a heart problem and on the day he was due to sign with Everton he passed away aged 16.
Hopefully it would have a different outcome today with all the facilities and screening that takes place. Still, I feel a tinge of honour that I got to play on the same team as such a special talent and sad the world never got to see him in full flight.
There's more on his story here for anyone interested: https://www.efcstatto.com/stories/the-john-marshall-story/
That's all. A melancholy memory brought back to the surface by recent events.