claretandlightblue
| Forum role | Member since | Last activity | Topics created | Replies created |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Member | Feb 14, 2008 (18 years) |
- | 0 | 1 |
- Forum role
- Member
- Member since
Feb 14, 2008 (18 years)
- Last activity
- -
- Topics created
- 0
- Replies created
- 1
Bio
As has been the tradition in the Sparks Family for generations (at least since the early 1930's when my Gran washed the Villa kit after every match), it is at times of Villa joy/BlueNose tragedy that we celebrate with an "extremely good drink" which can last for days, sometimes with the happiest of consequences.....
Back in the late Spring of 1956 my Dad embarked on a lengthy drinking binge culminating in a fumbling, bumbling, rumbling sexual tryst with my mother on the night of May 14th. This, for me personally, was a most important event... In the F.A. Cup Final five days previously, Manchester City, despite 'keeper Bert Trautmann playing with a broken neck, had soundly beaten the hapless BlueNoses 3-1 and there was great rejoicing at the Sparks' stronghold in Erdington, Birmingham (North) which lasted for days...My Dad celebrated more than most.....
Nine months later, on February 14th, 1957, my mother lay comfortably under The Holte End Stand in a rather fetching claret and light blue smock and, with her mother close at hand to give assistance if needed, gave birth to a healthy boy - me. Shortly thereafter, my Dad stood proudly in the bar of the White Swan pub and ordered beers for everyone in the place whilst my Grandad sat in the corner smoking his Woodbines, sipping his pint of Mild, and selling live chickens to friends and customers to help pay the bill.....
To complete this joyous tale, just three months later, with my Uncle Roland, Great Uncle Norman, and Great Uncle Ray all in attendance at Wembley, the Cup Final of 1957 saw The Mighty Villa famously beat Manchester United 2-1. It is a little vague now but during the match, which we listened to on the radio in the living room, I do remember having a couple of pints (courtesy of my Mother's breast) and watching my family members, adorned in their Villa scarves and furiously twirling their Villa rattles, celebrate vociferously as Peter McParland's brace secured the Cup for the seventh time ("Seven times we've won it, no one else can catch us up", they naively chanted)... The party moved out to the street at the final whistle and Western Road was a blaze of Claret and Light Blue with just Number 12 shrouded in melancholy and darkness - yes, my friends, that was the house where the BlueNosed Skinner Family wallowed in misery - and still do.....
Humbly yours, Claret & Light Blue 4 Ever, Born under the Holte End Stand, Sitting on the Settee (aka S.O.T.S.; aka Shitting on the City), and Keeping the Faith....