One of the things I disliked when I was young was my mother and her parents (my grandparents of course) taking trips to Leeds and Hull. It seemed to be 'a thing' with them that we would go on regular coach trips - TOO REGULAR FOR ME! When we went to Leeds, we always went to a big department store called Lewis's and have a cup of tea. When we went to Hull, a similar thing happened. It felt like we were on a coach almost every second week. BORING! The only good coach trip was the annual Hull Fair, but then again, when you're going on roundabouts with your MOTHER, it's not that much fun. The whole thing about coach trips bored me silly.So when teacher Mr Bogg came into our teacher Mrs Arundales class one day at the Friarage junior school, and asked who would like to go coaching - lots of boys put their hands up - BUT NOT ME - NO WAY! Coaching was the last thing I wanted in my life.
A few days later I saw all the lads who'd put their hands up boarding a big blue coach just outside the school gates on Friargate, I felt so sorry for them. They didn't know what they were in for. Poor sods! They obviously don't have parents with a coaching habit. I wonder where they will get taken? Probably to some department store somewhere?
So that's the reason many of my schoolmates got into soccer, and I didn't. It was quite some time before I realised "coaching" was football coaching, and they were going to Northstead Playing Fields to play football and have a jolly good time. And when you're only seven, you tend not to jump around and shout "Sorry, I got the coaching bit wrong, can I join in." I went fishing with my dad instead.
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