Video Saturday – June 1970

Terry Cooper! Look everyone Terry Cooper, TC with sideburns and everything !

Picked entirely at random this morning but picked a cracker, its June 1970 the young JerryChicken is 13 years old and just finishing his second year at Leeds Modern School, end of year exams and all that jazz, end of year report to take home to your father which he reads in three seconds flat and murmurs, “Hmmm, ok” because its a generic “The boy just does enough to get by in class and hardly covers himself in glory in exams, but he’s not quite poor enough to fail, must buck his ideas up next year…”

England are reigning World Cup Champions and must travel to Mexico to defend their title and so in order to improve their chances against a Brazil team that was impossible to beat they gather together in dinner suits to sing a jaunty song about their quest and assure us that they’ll give all they’ve got to give for the folks back home.

And look, Terry Cooper, three key changes in a song and everything !

Now as everyone knows I am not a fan of what is jokingly called “The Beautiful Game” these days for it is neither beautiful nor a fair game any longer, but the 13 year old JerryChicken had a different point of view and even now, all these years later, there aren’t too many who would not watch the England v Brazil group game and agree that THIS is how football should be played, and that David Coleman should commentate on every game, every week…

Terry Cooper, what were you doing !

And so on to the quarter finals and West Germany to beat once again, by the way these videos aren’t poor quality because they are so old, this WAS the quality of live satellite broadcasting way back in the day, commentary sounding like the commentator was standing in a phone box outside the ground dropping a constant flow of ten pence pieces in the coinbox, video that kept breaking up but was none the less HD in its time, captions of goalscorers names that always took two guesses to get right and more importantly no-one EVER used the players first names, we grew up admiring the skills of footballers for whom we only ever knew their surnames, Pele, Jairzinho, Muller, Beckenbauer, Eusebio…

And then we went on holiday, just after the England/West Germany quarter final the famille JerryChicken all went on holiday to Perran Sands Holiday Camp in Cornwall where we stayed in an earwig infested 1940s caravan in the middle of the largest range of sand dunes in the world, nearly, it was like being on manoeuvres with Lawrence of Arabia every day, it was hot, I got sunstroke one day when left in a crater in one of the dunes while our parents went to the pub for a liquid lunch (it was the 1970s, you were allowed to do that), I burned, my skin fell off, I burned again, my skin fell off, repeat until the end of the holidays, when the sun comes out I still burn, my skin falls off and then you start the process again, my skin was not designed to ever have a tan – anyway, the camp site had a television set, just the one, and so on the night of the 1970s world cup final EVERYONE on the whole camp site, hundreds of us, gathered in the clubhouse of the Perran Sands Holiday Camp and we all watched Brazil vs Italy, or at least we all tried to watch the game but as there were so many blokes rammed into the bar area it was impossible to catch any more than fleeting glimpses of a small TV set above the bar twenty yards away on which images flickered and faded and David Coleman sounded like he was in a phones box somewhere in Mexico desperately trying to call in his commentary and for the most part failing to convey to us in Perran Sands just what was going on, it was described afterwards as one of the greatest games of football ever and I saw, ooooh, twenty seconds of it from the back of a crowd of sweaty holidaying dads, heavily brylcremed backs of heads and an overwhelming stench of Brut.

But back to the music, what a cracking month that was in the charts…






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