A FANS VIEW - 1960 to 1970

1960 - 1970	1970 - 1972
1972 - 1975

The early part of the decade is something of a blur in my memory banks and I guess that the first clear memories that emerge from the murky depths of my mind are not really of football and the players. No folks my first memories are of hip flasks and pies.

My father used to take me to the occasional matches when I was in my formative years and we always occupied the same position in Leeds Road, in the Paddock, near the Cowshed end.
For those readers too young to remember the Paddock but old enough to remember Leeds Road it was situated in front of the main stand - imagine the Panasonic end at the Mac but with standing in front and a lower drop from the front of the stand to the area directly in front.
And so my old man would meet up with his mate and I would be left to my own devices. The only real images that stick out though are the half time Bovril and pie and my dad and his mate passing a silver flask to each other. After the match we would get the football special back up into the Town centre and then I would be put on to the next trolley bus to Paddock whilst my Dad went off with his mate for a game of cards. And that's about it.
The record books say that Town were managed by Eddie Boot and Tom Johnston and invariably finished in the top half of the Second Division table but until the coming of the Messiah, Ian Greaves, my memory sticks to pies and spirits.

But towards the end of the 60's things took a turn for the better. Tom Johnston left the club and Ian Greaves was appointed in his place. Now let's not give all the credit to Greavsie for Town's rise to the elite division as some of the star players had been present at the club before he took over. But it was the mans motivational skills that got the best out of the 'team' plus the establishment of a side of consistent players that did the trick.
In the promotional season of 1969/1970 Town only utilised a squad of 15 players in their league games , of which seven were ever-present. And the names of the magnificent seven roll off the tongue as easily today as they did when I heard them being announced at Leeds Road;
Terry Poole - had lodgings down our street and used to join us in a kickabout.
Denis Clarke - Solid defender.
Geoff Hutt - Ginger headed and liable to shoot at the floodlights.
Jimmy Nicholson - Insirational captain and midfielder.
Roy Ellam - As solid a defender as Jack Charlton.
Frank Worthington - A cavalier among the roundheads!
Jimmy McGill - More mullet than a fish factory but didn't half bite legs like a piranha!
Other notables amongs the team at that time were Jimmy Lawson on the wing, Trevor Cherry at the back and Colin Dobson the ginger headed penalty taker.

At this time I was making my own way down to the ground with my mates from scholand we stood in the corner of the ground between the Bradley Mills End and the Main Terrace. Great view from the top! I seem to rember too that the fencing at the back seemed to be made from pieces of wood resembling railway sleepers. Coincidence? Or was Dr Beeching responsible for some cheap wood heading Town's way?
Of course in those days we could have stood absolutely anywhere on three sides of the ground because segregation for safety's sake was still in the future and if there were a large number of visiting supporters it was the police who made up the human barriers.

As a 14-year-old I wasn't allowed to visit away grounds but did manage to sneak away to visit Preston with a friend. My main two recollections from this game, apart from Worthington's two goals in a 3-1 victory for Town, were the depth of the 'moat' surrounding the pitch - seemed like the players needed to take a very short run-up when they took corners - and the generosity of the home supporters. I made quite a cash haul from the pennies that were being thrown in our general direction every time Town scored.
It was also the first time I ever felt persecuted. When we arrived at the ground and took up our places it seemed to me that all of the more vocal Preston fans had noticed my arrival and they all seemed to point in my general direction whilst singing 'you're gonna get your f!!*ing head kicked in'. What had I done to deserve such strong feeling!

Well we only lost 6 games out of 42 that memorable season and Town won promotion and were duly awarded a civic reception which was held at the Town Hall.
My how we sang and waved our scarves as they took to the balcony on Ramsden Street.
Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end, we won the league three times in a row, we won the FA Cup and now we're going up, we are the Town oh yes we are the Town.
We don't carry bottles, we don't carry lead, we only carry hatchets to bury in your head, we are Town supporters, fanatics everyone, we all hate Man City, Leeds and Everton.

As a finale I have to admit to a sin that I have been carrying with me all of these years. I had a friend who lived in Leeds and he used to take me to see Leeds United. I vaguely remeber seeing them play Leicester when Alan Clarke was still playing for the Foxes and I also saw Leeds in Europe in the Fairs Cup. Home leg against Celtic where a little winger called Jimmy Johnstone ran rings round the Leeds defence and were unlucky not to go back to Scotland with more than the one goal win that they got that night.

And so it was on to the big time for Town in the top division in the English Football League.