In my first real job, a sweet old man worked in the stationary supply section. A large cupboard really, but you had to sign for staples and he was the man who was charged with this great responsibility. An incredibly sweet and gentle man, called Pat. He was well past retirement age but living alone, enjoyed the social nature of what was a very social company. I used to go to him more for a chat than a highlighter pen, and as I got to know him he opened up a little about his past.
Eventually he told me that he had rather a colourful past, and had been, in fact, Brighton and Hove Albion's goalkeeper in a long career that was only effectively terminated by World War 2. He spoke bashfully about rare encounters with the greats of the time, never one to boast. He insisted that in his day, the wages of a professional footballer were relatively decent, but certainly not anything like what players of the (then) present time were earning. It was more about the love of the game and the camaraderie. It was wonderful to sit, as a teenager, and listen to his tales of pre-war professional football.
Pat retired soon after, but I never forgot him, or his stories. I was thinking about him not so long ago, I'm sure he died quite a while ago. The information and data recorded on the internet is of constant interest to me on many subjects and with a desire for nostalgia I decided to remember Pat by looking up his professional career details, so I could gloat that I worked with this very man, who for so many years kept goal for Brighton. The internet is a wonderful resource for things just like this. I was suitably surprised by what I found, and I'd like to make one heartfelt statement about my friend if you will allow me.
Pat, rest in peace you lying ba$tard
