
Advice from a Walking Footballer
What my fellow players fail to realise when I mark my goalscoring feats with flamboyant gestures is that I’m the first generation influenced by this new manner of celebrating goals that surfaced during the very early 1970s.
I was an impressionable 8 year old when Sheffield United visited Bristol City at Ashton Gate. I was in the East End amongst thousands of partizan City fans when United scored the only goal through Tony Currie at that end. Instead of underplaying the feat so as not to antagonise, Currie faced the thousands of tormentors baying for his blood and blew kisses. I was transfixed. At that moment I hated him but also secretly admired his chutzpah. This wasn’t an actor playing the pantomime baddie. It was real life. It had a profound impact on me. Pure, unfiltered bravado and showmanship.
My most memorable goal celebration, still recalled by my fellow players nearly 8 years later, occurred when I marked my 100th goal in over 50’s football.
On sunny days I wear a protective bandana. Without anyone knowing, I purchased a special gold coloured one and emblazoned ‘100’ across it in black marker. I kept it concealed in my pocket and when the glorious moment arrived I whipped it out and placed it upon my bonce for the remainder of the game.
I stopped counting soon afterwards and I’m guessing that by now, July 2026, in the Friday football I have amassed about three times that.
