My complete life of supporting Bournemouth.

AlGard said:
Chapter 4.
1971/72
Glam Rock and Glam Football


We also had aquired a beach hut, half way between Boscombe Pier and Southbourne, No 645, and afternoons were spent kicking a ball around in the sand.
.
Click to expand...

Great memories Al. I'm a couple of years behind you and I started going in 71/72. That Villa match was an awesome experience! I can also vouch for the state of the New Stand toilets. Platform soles did help though. Our beach hut was 608, just down the prom from you. At some they must have all been renumbered because I know exactly where our hut was, and it isn't close to being 608 now!
 
AlGard said:
Chapter 4.
1971/72
Glam Rock and Glam Football

‌The summer of 71 was magnificent.
Most days of the school holiday I played football over Castle Lane, or sometimes I cycled to Queens Park to catch up with my old St Andrews pals.
Football stopped when Hampshire were playing cricket at Dean Park, when we all met up and spent from 11am till 6-30 pm there.

We also had aquired a beach hut, half way between Boscombe Pier and Southbourne, No 645, and afternoons were spent kicking a ball around in the sand.
No longer were the kids Best, Charlton, Law, Pele etc, we were MacDougall, Boyer, Scott, or Fred Davies in goal.
We couldn't wait for the new season to start.
Bond had bought in Micky Cave & Bill Kitchener to bolster midfield and defence.
Chairman Harold Walker had ambitious plans for another promotion, and announced that the Brighton Beach End would be demolished for a 4,000 seat "Walker Stand."
I'm sure we beat Man Utd in a pre season friendly 3-0, tho it might have been the following season.

Grandad was still going, but now 77, he decamped to the Main Stand to watch matches.

Dad had made new friends in West Way. A Welsh chap called Merrion, and living opposite was Colin Legg, a teacher at Bournemouth Grammar School.
They took it in turns to drive to games, and we always parked in Bennett Road and walked the last 10 minutes.
Getting out of the car park by the ground had become a bit of a nightmare when the crowds increased, sometimes taking 30 minutes to get out of the area.

The New Stand was full for the opening game against Shrewsbury. We started where we had left off with a 3-1 win, Ted and Phil both scored of course. The catering in the New Stand was halfway along at the back facing the pitch. The toilets were of similar build, smell, and inept drainage as the South End. Pee up against a wall, and it dropped into a slim channel on the floor to drain away. Once all the fag butts had blocked the drain, you were paddling in pi55 from around 10 minutes before kick off.

We had got off to a cracking start, 6 points from 4 games, and there was a real buzz that we were going to have another promotion season.

When the fixtures came out, another weekend was planned in Nottingham for the County game at the end of September.
But then....Disaster!
An invitation to cousin William's wedding came through the post. The same day as the County fixture.
Dad used the "F" word again. But, it was family, and we had to go.
The reception was at a hotel in Poole, starting around 2pm. Radio Solent was in it's infancy, and had started covering games. There were limits to live football coverage in those days. Solent could have a pre match preview, and two visits to the game in each half. So basically they went to the ground after 15 and 30 minutes before a half time report. Same in the 2nd half, 60th and 75th minute, then full time.
Dad and I nipped out every 15 minutes to the car to get the latest, and soon, several other guests were joining us. Most off putting for those giving speeches.
I am sure we went one up in the first half, and the cheer from the car park attracted the glare of those inside conforming to the wedding formalities.
It finished 1-1. Gutted to have missed the game, but happy that we were still top 2.

Another big game was on the horizon. Aston Villa at home. They were top, we were still 2nd and 3 points behind them.
We had gone to a midweek reserve game a couple of weeks earlier, to gain a voucher to be able to buy a ticket for the game.
We then went back a few days later, queue up at stupid o'clock to get our New Stand tickets.

This was the first time I had been to a home league game with a 20,000 plus crowd. It was loud, it was packed, it was also impossible at half time to change ends to the end Bournemouth were attacking. The toilets must have had it's fill of fag butts by 2pm. I daren't think how deep the puddle of pi55 was. Luckily I had learnt to swim that summer. It was that or go to games in waders!
3-0, "Three bloody nil" my Dad said as we walked back with Colin and Merrion to the car. To celebrate, they went for a beer in The Dolphin, Holdenhurst Road. I was of course on a bench outside with a pint of shandy and a packet of salt 'n' shake.
The Villa fans heading back to the rail station were having running battles with our fans. It was all getting very tasty, then the old bill turned up, and they got a bit of a pasting too.
What an afternoons entertainment for this youngster.

The very next week, I didn't go to school on the Friday, as we were off for that trip to see family in Nottingham, which by sheer coincidence included that nights game in Mansfield.
A 5-0 win. "Five bloody nil." One of the biggest away wins in our history, and I was there.
Promotion was looking nailed on. Us, Villa, Brighton, & County. A 4 way race for 2 places.
Excitement overload.
Click to expand...
I was at that Friday night Mansfield game, it was raining, Ted scored 4.
 
Great stories Al. Colin Legg was my class teacher in (I think) 72/73. A group of us used to go to his house on a Saturday morning and help him do up the garden. He paid us well, his wife made us a slap up lunch and if Bournemouth were home he'd give us a lift to the game. He sold that house and then bought what was to become the Lansdowne hospital.
 
Chapter 4. Part 2
1971/72

It was shortly after the Villa game my ex St Andrews school mate, Leslie Pike told me he was emigrating to Australia.
He lived at the Charmy end of Nortoft Road with his elder brother Colin, a ginger haired monster of a kid, who had a fascination of playing with matches. You knew Colin had been over Queens Park golf course as he was forever setting fire to gorse bushes that went up like a towering inferno.
Leslie was a great kid tho'. On wet days in the school holidays, playing football took a back seat, and we played subbuteo till the rain ceased.
He always had a runny nose. Every school had a kid like that. He never had a handkerchief and always seemed to be wearing jumpers with snot encrusted sleeves.
I think he moved to Perth, said he would write, but never did.
Perhaps he was snatched by a dingo in the outback whilst looking for bush tucker.
If anyone knows of him, I would be delighted to get back in touch. He was sadly missed in the New Stand by a few of us kids.

The season continued to progress well. By mid March we were 2nd behind Villa, with Brighton hot on our heels.
We lost at home to Bolton, a team led by legend Roger Hunt. 2-1, and then followed 4 games without a win, drawing 3 of them. Brighton seemed to score of late goals at the time, and kept winning.
We had to play them at home still, and despite slipping to 3rd, we were still only a point behind.
1st April was the fixture. 22,500 crammed in to Dean Court. Seems amazing now we could get that many in safely. We could barely move in the New Stand. It was another draw. Ted scored, but it finished 1-1 in a game we really needed to win.

Dad, myself and Colin Legg went up to Bristol Rovers in the newly purchased Hillman Imp, KLJ606F, with a Cherry Bees sticker in the back window.
We won, but so had Brighton that day and they remained 2 points ahead with 4 games to go.
We got back to the car and the back window had been smashed in and someone had taken a dump on the sticker that lay by the side of the car.
Never liked Bristol Rovers since.
There was 5 points from those last 4 games, but it wasn't enough, Brighton kept winning, and with a game remaining, it was beyond us.
We finished 3rd with 62 points. Only Ipswich in the 50's had not got promoted with that many points, and they finished 3rd with 65 points.
If we had got that many points in the 60's, we would have won division 3 on 6 occasions.
Only 13 goals conceded at home and 37 all season.
It was a huge disappointment.
But much pride in doing so well the year after coming up.
With Villa and Brighton out the way, surely it would be ours next season.

I can't finish this chapter without mentioning the FA Cup.
Poor Margate. Ted tore them a new bum hole all afternoon.
When his 7th went in, Mr Know it all me, told all around me it was a new record.
We were at the end the goals went in for both halves.
It was truly remarkable, and will never be beaten in my opinion.
We got to the car just as sports report was coming on. The wonderful tune that started that 5pm football round up blared out, and instead of the normal League 1 headlines, the host said "Record smashed in the FA Cup as Ted MacDougall bags 9 against Margate."
Immense pride at hearing that.
Another, "I was there moment" and a truly great one.
 
Chapter 5.
1972/73
Season Ticket.

The summer was hot. More football at Winton Rec and Queens Park.
All my mates were now AFC Bournemouth fans. Optimism was high.
You would hear of signings only through the Echo or Solent.
None of this 24 hour scrutiny that we get nowdays.

Dad came home from work and plonked a couple of season tickets on the kitchen table.
I wasn't going to miss a single game.
John Bond had strengthened the squad by signing "We got Arry. Arry Redknapp on the wing, Jimmy Gabriel, and Tommy Mitchinson.
It was looking good for another promotion push.
Despite having season tickets, Mum had insisted on a foreign summer holiday. so on the day the season started we flew out for 2 weeks in Lloret de Mar. The Hotel Rossamar. A room that was barely adequate, and with a toilet similar to the New Stands facilities. You didn't need fag butts to block the toilet there.

I remember going to an English bar where the patron put all the scores up on four blackboards. Bolton 3 AFCB 0.
Gutted. Spoilt my holiday.
We went to the same bar a week later, where they had world service on. Their Saturday sports coverage started around 4-15pm, with the voice of Paddy Feeney reading out the half times.
Then, to take in the news, the football scores were broadcast around 5-15pm UK time.
Bournemouth 2 Chesterfield 2.
More disappointment.
We flew home the following Saturday, picking the repaired Hillman Imp at Gatwick. Just in time for Sports Report, and to hear of another defeat.
We were bottom 4.
My first use of a season ticket was the Scunthorpe game. In to the New Stand and proud as punch. Ted scored again, but we only drew.

I was now at senior school. Winton Boys.
The headmaster was Peter Day, known as "Doris" to the boys.
An ex Army captain in the war, every morning he would call us all together and stand on the steps of the annexe, and give us a briefing.
He might have been at the Bridge of the River Kwai, but to us Winton scrotes, his pep talks meant nothing.

The routine going to games had changed a bit. West Way to Thistlebarrow Avenue in the car.
Dad had a customer who lived in that road, and he allowed us to park there for games. How simple was that?
We weren't at our best at the start of that season, and there were rumours.
Bigger sides wanted Bond as manager, Ted was courted by many a top flight club.
It was an unsettling time, and was reflected on the pitch.
We drove up to Brentford in September. Ted scored a scissor hit belter, but we drew 1-1.
The game was on the "Big Match" the next day.
Not only the first game shown on the day, but the legendary Brian Moore commentated. "MacDougall...one nil"
There were more rumblings about Ted leaving.
Dad had the Daily Express delivered every day.
The headlines were there..."Frank O'Farrell wants MacDougall"
We played Port Vale that midweek and won easily, 4-0. But it was Ted's farewell, he was off next morning to join the post Matt Busby revolution.
I might have cried again.


There will be a gap of a few days before I add to this. Am a busy boy!
 
Hillviewred said:
Didn’t Colin Legg own lansdowne nursing home which is now Nuffield,short chubby man with glasses
Click to expand...
He was my old history teacher at BSB, went with a couple of mates in his mini to Northampton for 3-2 win. He and his wife did own the Lansdowne Hospital, they sold it and bought the Dudsbury golf club. He was an AFCB director for a while. Good bloke.
 
Colin Legg top bloke. His economic history lessons used to start with a 15 min chat about our most recent game, a review of the next game and then oh something about the syllabus. Hope all is well with him and his family.
 
Very interesting to read other folks stories I was hatched in 35 and in the early 50's I and a mate would cycle down 4 miles to DC. Park our bikes by the fir trees, stand in the south stand , lean against the iron rests and then cycle home. In the early 50's I had finished my apprenticeship and was called to do 2yrs National Service, paid 2 shillings to hire a radio for the day to listen to whatever match was being broadcast and that put paid to watching the Cherries. When demobbed my work took me away from Dorset and I can't remember the sequence of events but I eventually returned to B'mouth and began a business of my own, it took much of my time and on Sat pm I insisted I 'did' my books to see how the funds were doing.
I can't remember what took my Saturday pm time in more recent years but what with one thing and another I couldn't get to Dc. I always had Cherries in my heart
and the Keiffer Moore goal, I've watched dozens of times.
UTC
 
Monday was always about football. After a while he'd dictate his 'magic notes ', never had a failure at O level, much to the annoyance of the head of history Holy Joe Lenton.
 
I won tickets on 2cr via Mark Mc Adam in 2002 for the game against Wrexham and on our way to the game my wife rang to say it had been called off
We played the Tuesday week later
and won 6 nil with a James Hayter hat trick
I was hooked
 
AlGard said:
Chapter 5.
1972/73
Season Ticket.

The summer was hot. More football at Winton Rec and Queens Park.
All my mates were now AFC Bournemouth fans. Optimism was high.
You would hear of signings only through the Echo or Solent.
None of this 24 hour scrutiny that we get nowdays.

Dad came home from work and plonked a couple of season tickets on the kitchen table.
I wasn't going to miss a single game.
John Bond had strengthened the squad by signing "We got Arry. Arry Redknapp on the wing, Jimmy Gabriel, and Tommy Mitchinson.
It was looking good for another promotion push.
Despite having season tickets, Mum had insisted on a foreign summer holiday. so on the day the season started we flew out for 2 weeks in Lloret de Mar. The Hotel Rossamar. A room that was barely adequate, and with a toilet similar to the New Stands facilities. You didn't need fag butts to block the toilet there.

I remember going to an English bar where the patron put all the scores up on four blackboards. Bolton 3 AFCB 0.
Gutted. Spoilt my holiday.
We went to the same bar a week later, where they had world service on. Their Saturday sports coverage started around 4-15pm, with the voice of Paddy Feeney reading out the half times.
Then, to take in the news, the football scores were broadcast around 5-15pm UK time.
Bournemouth 2 Chesterfield 2.
More disappointment.
We flew home the following Saturday, picking the repaired Hillman Imp at Gatwick. Just in time for Sports Report, and to hear of another defeat.
We were bottom 4.
My first use of a season ticket was the Scunthorpe game. In to the New Stand and proud as punch. Ted scored again, but we only drew.

I was now at senior school. Winton Boys.
The headmaster was Peter Day, known as "Doris" to the boys.
An ex Army captain in the war, every morning he would call us all together and stand on the steps of the annexe, and give us a briefing.
He might have been at the Bridge of the River Kwai, but to us Winton scrotes, his pep talks meant nothing.

The routine going to games had changed a bit. West Way to Thistlebarrow Avenue in the car.
Dad had a customer who lived in that road, and he allowed us to park there for games. How simple was that?
We weren't at our best at the start of that season, and there were rumours.
Bigger sides wanted Bond as manager, Ted was courted by many a top flight club.
It was an unsettling time, and was reflected on the pitch.
We drove up to Brentford in September. Ted scored a scissor hit belter, but we drew 1-1.
The game was on the "Big Match" the next day.
Not only the first game shown on the day, but the legendary Brian Moore commentated. "MacDougall...one nil"
There were more rumblings about Ted leaving.
Dad had the Daily Express delivered every day.
The headlines were there..."Frank O'Farrell wants MacDougall"
We played Port Vale that midweek and won easily, 4-0. But it was Ted's farewell, he was off next morning to join the post Matt Busby revolution.
I might have cried again.


There will be a gap of a few days before I add to this. Am a busy boy!
Click to expand...
Thanks Al for sharing your memories. My dad is Keith Miller and it's really interesting to hear stories from another perspective, adds more detail to the mental picture I have of that time. I was born in 72' so I only have vague personal memories myself of his time at AFCB. Look forward to reading more.
 
Last edited:
Put it in the mixer said:
Thanks Al for sharing your memories. My dad is Keith Miller and it's really interesting to hear stories from another perspective, adds more detail to the mental picture I have of that time. I was born in 72' so I only have vague personal memories myself of his time at AFCB. Look forward to reading more.
Click to expand...

Great player for the cause was your Father.
Things started to dip after 73, and Keith was always 100% committed.
Hope he is well.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

;