I was 11 years old and football mad. The coverage on TV was not as forensic then, but Eusebio, the North Koreans and England captured the imagination.
I kept a scrapbook of cuttings for each round which I gave to my, now 33 year old, son for his design work. After each game, it was straight outside with a ball to replay whichever game had been on, taking on the key roles of our favourite players. It was magical.
Then on the day of the final; catastrophe. My father, who left the family home soon after, would often impose his authority in a threatening manner and hated football, made his usual unilateral and, seemingly, deliberate decision. On the day of the final we were going to visit his brother (also a football hater) in North London and other relatives south of the river in Bermondsey. We lived in North Hertfordshire at the time and road travel was long and tedious then.
I was distraught, with no hope of negotiation; he would not allow a challenge to his authority. My mother knew this too; she also made a vain attempt to persuade him.
Just before kick-off we left for London and my faith and trust in my father left me, forever. I was in tears, with my father being his usual aggressive self and telling me to grow up and shut up. We missed the whole game. On arrival in Bermondsey I was greeted by over-joyed elder cousins who kept telling me how great it had been and wondering why I had missed it. I didn't explain.
As we travelled through London I was struck by how empty the streets were and the abiding memory of the Union Jacks hanging from windows. No car radio in those days. It was a bitter lesson in life for me and to quote Philip Larkin: "They f**k you up, your mum and dad", but in this case it was definitely my dad.
Ironically, I went on to become a professional footballer and four years later, as a young apprentice I was at an FA coaching course at Lilleshall during the 1970 Mexico World Cup watching a strongly fancied England lose to the Germans!
The scrapbook stops after the England v Portugal semi-final and my father never saw me play a single game of football. I am now a debenture holder at Wembley and my son is there in attendance with me whenever he can make it.
Stephen Baker
Memory added on August 25, 2016
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