In his wonderful Diaries, Alan Clark mentions the importance of first and last times by recognising, acknowledging and celebrating the occasion - going out with style.That's of course fine
if you know it's going to be your last time - more often
than not one is unaware or so in the
moment, there is an inability to step back from the experience and recognise it as such.
Like most of the
other boys at
Oxgangs, football was my
sport - the beautiful
game. I loved
the games of football
which
we
played endlessly and gave my all
in every match.
A lot of the time I played
up in The Field - often
three games of an
evening - with
the big boys; then
the bigger boys;
and then with boys my own age.
'Don't Know How The Trees Survived!'
Back Field Oxgangs Road North
|
Some fine players featured
in these games at
Oxgangs who thereafter went
on to play professionally for the likes of Hearts, including
Eric Carruthers.
However, one player was metaphorically, if not
literally, head and
shoulders
above the rest. He was a class apart.
His
name was Titch Macmillan. He
was a quite brilliant player.
He was skilful as Messi. I loved watching
him on the ball.
He was a supreme
artist, poetry in motion.
His younger brother, Rab McMillan, who
was
a couple of years older than me, wasn't that
far behind Tich.
Tich didn't make it to
the same high level
as
Eric Carruthers, probably because they thought him too small. He
may have gone on
to play in Australia at
a semi-professional level.
Some people thought he
was perhaps
too greedy on the ball
- there's a happy
balance between
being
an individualist and doing the right thing
by the team. Titch was the perfect
size for today's Barcelona team.
Physically he was a doppelganger for Messi
in size, skill and appearance.
I never felt
envious of Tich.
Because he
was
four years older he
was
somebody who I could aspire to
and try to match one
day. Also, I took consolation that I could already out-run
all the older boys.
When I played
with the older boys it
always lifted my
game. I loved the
challenge of playing
with and against
them and
trying to
take the ball past
their defence or to show some
vision with a nicely
weighted pass.
Playing with Andy as my captain facilitated this
approach and gave me
the confidence to try things and
express myself.
He complimented me when it worked and if on occasion it
didn't quite come off, he didn't
criticise me.
It was the carrot rather than the
stick approach to management - admirable and mature given that Andy would have been
only around sixteen years old.
At the age of twelve I went to
Boroughmuir
Secondary School where there
was
no football, so
instead I played rugby for the school. This pleased
my father. From 1968,
apart from occasionally playing
for
Michael Hanlon's teams in
their
matches against
a Joe Rendall Select or a Kenny Taylor Select I
gave up football altogether. I only resumed
playing
again
in my forties and
fifties with colleagues at work and
more
recently with Atticus and
d’Artagnan.
Looking back I should
have stuck with the
footie.
Postscript: I’m pleased
to say that my youthful assessment of George Tich
McMillan’s skills were not
far off the mark as he went on to
become a legend in Australian football,
including scoring against Manchester United in a friendly
and the winning
goal in a sensational
victory by Western
Australia
against Glasgow
Rangers in 1975.
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