Oooohhh Geees, so many childhood memories come flooding back but not as clear as Para Petes. When I was 4-5 (1961/62) my family moved to Rydalmere until I was 11. Ron Lynch lived close by so through him via Dad got to watch Parramatta play at Cumberland, Sydney Sports Ground and the SCG. I loved going to Cumberland.
Made a friend of an older boy whose parents owned a fruit shop in the Rydalmere shopping center opposite the station, and out back there was a dirt laneway and his father erected some goal posts off the fence, so got to hone my toe kicking skills against many older boys. Competitions galore. For 2 years never won, always near last as I could not kick the long shots but then I came of age and started winning most of the comps for the next 4 years even beating young teenagers as well.
I was not allowed to play footy as parents had me working in their shop or walking greyhounds or going to greyhound, trotters or gallopers race tracks around the state as dad owned a few. Greyhounds was his big interest. We had a large paddock to the side and behind the BP station on busy Victoria Rd next to the shop so Dad had his horses there, plus mums chooks pen and vege gardens and lots of sheds. I used to regularly walk the dogs along Victoria Rd until one got away from me and was killed on the road. Dad belted the sh*t out of me. I was 8/9 years old.
When I was finally allowed to play footy I got picked in front of better players because of my goal kicking. Won so many games for my teams being a toe kicker but I was not that good a player. Always working with family which stopped me training. When family moved to Bronte/Waverley 1968 I used to go down to Queens Park and practice goal kicking there or at Waverley Oval mostly on my own. No Joke, as an 11 year old I was consistently kicking goals from the sidelines back around 40 meters and occasionally could kick them from half way, with wind assistance.
My best kick ever was on my own, Queens Park, 1970, 13 years old. Did A Hazem El Masri, from right sideline with a howling gale blowing across right to left, I kicked the ball almost down the sideline from near the half way, but very high and let the wind do the rest. Over the black dot it went and hit the small hill behind the posts back another 15 meters or so. To watch the hook of the ball curve so far around, knowing I planned that shot exactly... had me jumping up and down screaming with my Parramatta jumper on. Shame there was no one else there to witness that kick.
Sorry, I am talking about me..... After viewing all the old photos in this link, have had quite a few tears rolling down while reminiscing these memories set against a back drop of a lonely childhood, deprived of the opportunities to explore dreams I had back then. I left home by the time I was fifteen. It was the best thing I ever did. It saved my life.
Ron Lynch, if you ever read this post, thanks for all the great memories. You took a real interest in me and spent time with me. You were the reason I became an Eels fan for life. Love you lots mate. A true gentleman with a great heart.
