Wargrave Recreation Ground to Wembley World Cup?

I suppose all parents want their children to do better than they did and to have a better life, more opportunities and the rest. That is certainly true for Pat and I – although we came from fairly humble backgrounds with the help of  good fortune, good parents and maybe a bit of hard work on our part I would like to think that we made then most of what we had. I know that my mother and father when they watched me collect my master’s degree were both quietly bowled over and although they didn’t say much it became a constant source of pride.  I’m sure that their friends got fed up of hearing the tale of them seeing me being presented with the degree! It is of course what we do as parents – we not only do we want the best for our children but are quietly satisfied when we see it all go right. And it doesn’t end once they are grown up - even as adults you still want things to go right for them – their job, their family, their own children. When, as a grandparent you see one of your grandchildren making a success of something – their school work, their playing of a musical instrument, their first job and the like then one gets that same feeling of pleasure and pride.

John in his playing days

Kate in her orchestra

As I wrote those words I thought back to a Christmas about ten years ago. It was the first Christmas after the death of my mother and my dad, who was himself a very ill man with only a year or so to live, was spending Christmas with us. After tea we sat round the table and my son John, who is a management accountant was explaining his new job as  chief finance officer to us. It all sounded very complicated to me and I must admit after a few Christmas drinks I wasn’t taking it all in  but as I sat there I watched my dad; he was quite mesmerised by what John was saying. I’m sure that he didn’t understand much of what John was explaining about the work, his company and role but as I watched I knew what dad was thinking. You only had to look at dad to see the wonderment and huge pride as he listened to his grandson. I knew with certainty what was going through his mind: “Here I am, a humble lorry driver who never passed an exam or got a qualification in my life but worked hard, was never out of work, had little schooling, but always turned myself out every day looking smart and professional – shining boots, neatly knotted tie, clean overalls – and who always gave my unopened wage packet each Thursday night over to my wife (my mother)..........haven’t I been successful! My son is a teacher and my grandson a management accountant dealing with millions of pounds every day and is a "boss", he’s got the world at his feet......and somewhere deep down he is part of me.....I must have done something right”. A few months later dad was very ill in hospital and on the day he was to be discharged John went to collect him to take him home. Dad told me many times – and I know he bored all his neighbours with the same story of what happened. He never tired of telling the nurses as he waited for John to arrive “My grandson is a management accountant and a chief finance officer – he’ll sort my medication out.....he’s coming to pick me up in his car......make sure that I'm ready, he’s a busy man, he’s driven up from London to take me home” And then when John at last arrived at the hospital (according to dad) the nurses scurried around to make sure that everything was ready and there were no delays in dad’s discharge........ "they certainly jumped when John walked in, they couldn't do enough for him" dad told us all! Dad had told all the ward about his grandson and made sure that John’s reputation went before him! Put simply, dad was hugely proud of both his grandson and granddaughter and saw their success as proof of his own success.

As a grandparent, I know how he felt – my five grandchildren are still young, but when I see how they are progressing at school, when I look at them and see what they appear to be turning into I am quietly delighted and hopeful for their futures. Of course, things can (and do) go wrong – but just as with one’s own children one hopes that your grandchildren will do even better and have even greater opportunities in this mad, frightening and uncertain world than we did. But, for me (and maybe all parents?) there is another dimension to all this which is equally satisfying. It is something that has become very apparent to both Pat and I over the past few weeks.

Sophie & Ellie - future Olympic
champions?

Our daughter, Kate, has two girls – Sophie and Ellie. From the earliest days Kate has poured herself into her daughters – every waking hour it seems is used up doing exciting and interesting and valuable things. The girls play musical instruments, they are both outstanding swimmers, they are members of various groups like brownies and guides, they do adventurous things such as canoeing, no holiday is a time spent lying by  a pool – all sorts of exciting trips and adventures are planned.... in short they live exciting and fulfilling lives. I am in awe of what Kate – and husband Andrew - puts into her family.  It tires me out just listening to all they are doing! Watching her girls grow up into bright, alert, adventurous young women reminds me of the old adage by (I think) Brigham Young, the founder of the Latter Day Saints Church: “You educate a man; you educate a man. You educate a woman; you educate a generation.” – certainly true in the case of Kate – and hopefully what she is passing on to her girls they in turn will pass onto any children that they have.

John (3rd from left back row) in
his first team - Ruddington Village

When Pat and I were “bringing up” Kate and John we tried, like all other parents, to support them, give them opportunities to enjoy and succeed at different things, advise them when they needed it and of course come down heavily on them when they needed that (a thing that was a frequent occurrence as they became teenagers)! Our interest in music meant that both children had music lessons – a dismal failure as far as John was concerned(!) but for Kate it bore fruit, she now gets a huge amount of pleasure from her music and leads a small orchestra and has many musical friends. She took to canoeing – an activity which made her many friends at university and provided a wonderful outdoor pursuit for Kate, a girl who was not sporting in the competitive sense, and with it she developed her love of swimming and life saving. And the list goes on. John was sports mad and most of our weekends were spent at the side of a football or cricket pitch as he made progress and moved up the sporting ladder eventually playing professionally and semi professionally. For us as parents it was hard – getting children to orchestra rehearsals, music lessons, swimming lessons, cricket practice, football games and at the same time ensuring that school work and homework were all fitted in – but it is, of course what parents do.

Sam (3rd from right) in his team - Wargrave Wolves!

And that is the extra dimension that I find myself increasingly enjoying as my five grandchildren grow up. Glad, of course that they are all healthy and seemingly able children; glad that John and Ruth and Kate and Andrew take such good care of them and are, as far as it is possible to be in these uncertain times, soundly established and in employment terms stable and successful. They are all those things but the extra dimension is that I get a quiet pleasure out of seeing them repeating what Pat and did all those years ago for their own children – music lessons, sporting opportunities, busy and exciting lives, fitting the other important things in like homework........ . In short, it is history repeating itself. What we did for Kate and John they now are doing for their children. I can sit back and (maybe egotistically) think to myself “We must have done something right”..........exactly what I think my dad thought all those years ago as he sat listening to John talking about his new job as a finance director: “I might only have been a humble lorry driver but look what my family have become”

Ellie may one day
play in the Berlin Phil! 

Luke might be goalkeeper
for England!

All this was brought home to me last week. John is now “retired” from playing football – his legs no longer able to keep up with the younger players! But, as his own three boys have begun to take an interest he has become involved in coaching the local boys’ team. Sam, his oldest is six and has just started to play in properly organised games – a league for children aged under 7. Each Saturday Pat and I get a phone call to tell how his team has done, and what sort of game he has had. In his first game he scored a hat trick (three goals) and so far his team have won all their games. And when, each Saturday tea time, Sam excitedly tells us about the game (and despite the fact that as I get older I become less competitive and have increasingly fallen out with the bloated world of professional football) I feel the old “stirrings” of those days spent watching John grow and develop into a good player. Suddenly, as I listen, my grandson is no longer a little 6 year old.......he is, I muse as i listen to him going to be a future captain of England, walking out at Wembley..... a future Bobby Moore – the ultimate footballer and sportsman – lifting the World Cup high and showing it to a delighted nation! All, of course sentimental pipe dreams – Sam may not have the talent or indeed may fall out of love with the game – but at this moment in time it makes me very proud to see what he and my other grandchildren are doing and succeeding at.  And it makes me even more proud of Kate and John that they are carrying on the tradition with their own children. I find it incredibly gratifying that in passing on to their children the sorts of things that we passed on to them they are in a way saying that what we did was of value and appreciated - and they want to do the same thing for their own kids.

Will Sophie - starring here in her school play
"Pirates of the Curried Bean"(!) one day grace
 the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Company?

Alex might be the next George Best or
David Beckham

So tomorrow (Saturday) Pat and I will make an early start to drive the 120 miles or so down to Wargrave near Reading. We will need to make an early start since Sam’s game kicks off at 11 a.m. and it will take us over 2 hours to get there. He doesn’t know that we are coming to watch him but I know it will please him. And as I stand on the touchline I know that I will be convinced that Sam is the best player on the pitch - that mistakes will never be his fault and that all the best moves will be initiated by him! I know that despite my increasing lack of a competitive spirit I will be urging him on and hoping that his team overcome the other team and win handsomely. In short I will be doing just what my dad did in hospital all those years ago, building Sam up into a great player just as my dad built John up to the nurses and other patients – and all for a very simple reason, that because deep down what I see in my son and daughter, and now in my grandchildren, is what I trust represents the very best of what I might be or might have been.  When I see Ellie with her clarinet, Sophie with her violin; when I see both girls plough through the swimming pool water as dolphin-like Olympic champions because of all the hard work that Kate has put in; when I watch Sam in his football kit practicing in the back garden and his two younger brothers wanting to join in I know that all the hard work that Pat and I put in all those years ago is still bearing fruit with a different generation.

January 12th 1993 Old Trafford - John Beale
number 5 and opposite him the United captain - future
international  star Gary Neville

And as Sam walks out with his team tomorrow morning I know that lurking in the back of my mind will be a cold night in January 1993. John, our son, was captain of the Notts County Youth team and they were in the quarter final of the FA Youth Cup – and playing hot favourites Manchester United. The United team was filled with players who were already becoming household names – Beckham, Scholes, Neville. Gillespie, Butt, Casper, Savage – players who would all become internationally famous top players. Pat and I sat high in the Old Trafford stands and watched as our son led his team out onto the hallowed turf of the “Theatre of Dreams”, Old Trafford – a place where the very greatest names in the game had shown off their skills to the world: Charlton, Law, Best, Cantona, Edwards, Foulkes, Styles, Crerand......and now our son was leading a team onto that same pitch. We watched as he shook hands with the United captain, an eighteen year old Gary Neville, who despite his youth was already being tipped as one of English football’s future superstars. I can remember thinking as I sat there that this was what all the years of standing on a cold wet touchline had been for. The result wasn’t important (we lost 3-1 but didn’t disgrace ourselves!) but the occasion was – etched in my memory, filling me with pride. Just as my dad was filled with pride as he listened to John talk of his new job.

Sam ready for the game.......will he one day lift the World
Cup at Wembley like some latter day Bobby Moore.
I can dream - but even if that doesn't come true I know that
the tradition is being kept on by my children.

And tomorrow morning, Wargrave Recreation Ground won’t quite be Old Trafford but I know that I’ll get the same buzz – seeing Sam turn out for his team starting the same journey that John began all those years ago and knowing that John, like his sister Kate, is continuing to carry the torch for the next generation. Others may disagree but I find that quite rewarding and satisfying.  And yes, it fills me with pride and I know that if my dad was still alive he would have loved to have had a phone call from his great grandson each Saturday telling him how he had done in his football match. It all reminds me of one of my favourite songs by Eric Clapton – My Father’s Eyes:

........And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, I´ve realized
That´s when I need them,
That´s when I need my father´s eyes........