I'd been alive for 10 turbulent years. My mum and dad had a fractious relationship for nine of these before acrimoniously parting. Football became an obsessive therapy.
My mates and I started the World Cup Willie Club (W.C.W.C.) to indulge ourselves in the celebration of the beautiful game that was entrancing the country. We played with World Cup balls imprinted with the names of all the participant nations; we pretended to be Pele, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton, Jimmy Greaves. My dad's shed was transformed into a primitive version of Wembley's changing room. We tracked all the results in any newspapers we could find and cut out match reports and articles to pin to our mobile, official W.C.W.C. notice board. One suggested West Germany were the tournament's "dark horses". One evening in July two of us were crawling along a tunnel underneath a main road. Half way through we realised it was England v Portugal. Frantically turning around in a mixture of panic and frustration we got out, knocking on the door of the nearest house with which we had any connection, however slight. Of course the hospitable but slightly bemused elderly couple were watching. We missed the start but not Bobby Charlton's wonderful goals, Eusebio's brilliance and Coluna's mature captaincy.
Soon that imagined and special day arrived: 30th July 1966. My kid brother Neil's 3rd birthday. Oh yes, and at 3 pm England were playing the Dark Horses in the World Cup final. I settled down to watch, alone. My dad - tiling the kitchen - and sister Anna weren't interested while Neil was celebrating with my mum in London. Members of the W.C.W.C. watched with their families. Soon we were 1-0 down. I suffered for a couple of minutes further before racing out, jumping on the bus and bunking into the pictures. At the end of the (forgettable and forgotten) film a subtitle appeared: England have won the World Cup. A pathetic, limp cheer from the few, scattered hermits followed. I walked home, happy and sad. Phil Vasili
Memory added on August 25, 2016
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