I got up at the usual time. I was still in high spirits over my results – seven ‘O’ levels!! I still can’t believe it.
It was sunny outside and in the morning Dad went out to get some petrol and a paper. When he came back he hinted that he wanted to go to a cricket match. I said I couldn’t go because I was going to Easterby Athletic, so he went with Mum instead.
Andrew came home from Cole’s at about one o’clock, and at quarter to two, just before I went out, he went to the barbers. I set off at 2.15 p.m. and caught a Yorkshire Metro bus at the bottom.
Amazingly enough, Andrew got on the same bus in Moxthorpe, complete with new, shortened hairstyle. We got to the ground at about 2.35 p.m., and stood in the Shed as usual.
What followed was the most boring, amateurish football match I’ve ever seen. Whether Athletic were unable to concentrate because of this Sheffield match I don’t know, but to say they are 3-1 Favourites to win the Northern Alliance title they were crap. The ground was silent, apart from murmurings, occasional applause and desperate comments. They really were bad – pathetic passes, slow on the ball – and ended up fizzling out to a 0-0 draw. Played three, drawn three. They are joint ninth in the table now. Although the second half began with some quite good attacks from Easterby, the game was generally terrible. I can’t understand it.
We got back at 5.30 p.m. and I tossed around the rest of the evening, watching the box mostly.
Today I had a chance to tell Robert and Carol about my results and I spent quite a long time telling them both. They seemed pleased. They move North again to Swinscoe, near Dearnelow, after four years in London (Plumstead), next Wednesday.
York tomorrow, and Marston Moor battlefield.
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