Sunday, November 8, 1981
Mum and Dad went to Knowlesbeck so Mum could practice driving and when they got back, we all watched the Remembrance Day Parade. The usual sadness, and as the old ex-servicemen streamed slowly by Mum was reduced to sobs and had to leave the room. “It's just that they're all so old yet wear their medals so proudly.”
I set off for Cardigan Park and met up with Rob and Carol outside the club shop; they'd just rushed over from Brynmor on the train. Carol seemed subdued and morose. For once there was a queue to get in and we got to our usual spot in the Shed just as the players came out.
Hydebridge were terrible, easily the worst side I’ve seen this season; their No. 9 Pollard was especially crap. Athletic by contrast were really good and scored in the third minute, a Newlands cross perfectly stoop-headed in by Hughes. Hydebridge got into things a bit more in the second half and almost scored from a sloppy Muir back pass: Ackroyd did well to save. They began to dominate and Athletic looked complacent, slow and non-committal. We were lucky to win in the end.
I regret having my hair cut. I know this sounds ludicrous, but it feels like a cop out, and that keeping it long and scraggly was sort of my own trivial up yours to social convention and neatness. But conformity rules, OK?