Tuesday, November 4, 1980

Tuesday November 4th

After History, Biology and History periods one, two and three, I spent the day in the drama area fiddling around. The play seemed so nebulous and the ‘actors’ so out of coordination that it began to appear as if the thing was going to end up in chaos. During this bodging around Flatters and Wallis kept appearing dragging with them huge groups of kids from Egley Middle School and similar places I expect – to them the goings on must’ve appeared very adult and out of touch – I know how I regarded such things at that age.

After school a rehearsal was held once more – it was terrible. My bit went off OK, Newsholme seemed to enjoy it (the play, not particularly my part, I mean). Things seem to be reaching a climax of activity.

I didn’t really enjoy Art College – I don’t know. Things, conversations, etc, just didn’t seem to go right. We are messing around with colour at the moment. The weather is terrible – cold mainly, really cold.

I came home feeling miserable over the immediate prospects; that awful hollow feeling which overtakes my stomach had begun to make itself felt once more. It must be something to do with nerves.

I sat in the dining room feeling really low for a quarter-of-an-hour or so when Dad rang to ask me if I was going to see Athletic tonight. If I was, he would pick me up on his way home from work. I said yes, although I’d forgotten about the match. I set off at seven and got to the ground just as the whistle was about to go. There weren’t many people there (205 I found out later), in fact the ground looked almost deserted.

I really enjoyed the match, for it was heart-warming to see the skillful Athletic attacks, sometimes involving only three or four men, blast in on corny Scawcroft Main’s defence. The opposition, especially in defence, was trite, the only redeeming feature being their No. 2, Cotton. Goal number 1 for Easterby came after half-an-hour when Scawcroft mistakes left two of their defenders on the floor and the rest milling around desperately. The ball was crossed and flicked about before Littlewood rushed in and booted the ball home. The goal was almost identical to the one Walshey scored early on this season to equalize at 1-1.

The second half started well – Newlands headed in No. 2 after 49 minutes and Athletic seemed to be playing games. The whole ground was pervaded with an optimistic, jovial atmosphere; mainly because of the lowly standard of opposition.

We got home at about 9.45 p.m., and I was in a much better mood than earlier. The hollow feeling remained, and I felt almost like a condemned prisoner enjoying himself on the night before.

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