Oh no! It’s holiday time

The holidays of my childhood were idyllic times of which I have the warmest of memories. With my father working on the railways, we got free passes and usually headed off to the south coast of England or further afield. However as I entered my teenage years our holidays, usually taken in the first fortnight in July, meant missing meetings ….and usually they were epic ones.

Not so happy birthday

My brother was to get to come along to The White City with me as a special treat on the night of his ninth birthday in 1964, with us going off on holiday the next day. However he was stricken with chickenpox that morning which meant that our trip to see the Tigers v Long Eaton meeting was off. Our holiday was delayed a few days too, but we did get away and I missed seeing the Tigers getting turned over big time by Newcastle, losing 31-46 to a rampant Diamonds side which had the luxury of giving junior Milton Caisley two rides in the reserve berth. Ivan Mauger successfully defended his Silver Sash that night too.

We were still away when Glasgow staged their traditional Wednesday meeting ahead of the Glasgow Fair Fortnight, when a good proportion of Glasgow decamped south. Newport were the visitors that night in a tousy KO Cup meeting that the Wasps narrowly won 49-46, with Jon Erskine knocking off Trevor Redmond, his one time boss at Neath, something that really got the crowd going. Bruce Ovenden, returning from injury, was joined by new signing and fellow Kiwi Graham Coombes, but both found the going tough against an experienced Newport side. A meeting I wish I'd seen.

1965 Another KO Cup tie and more

The Isle of Wight was our 1965 holiday destination, again in the first fortnight in July. In my absence Glasgow ran up a comfortable 64-32 win over Sheffield with Jack Kitchen scoring an impressive 16 for the visitors. Cradley were similarly despatched the following week on a 53-25 scoreline before their Midland rivals Wolverhampton put up far stiffer resistance on our Wednesday night meeting before going down 43-34. Nils Paulsen scored a paid maximum, his first and only one as it would turn out, to earn the right to challenge Bob Andrews in the Silver Sash, which I again missed seeing, with the Wolf retaining his title.

If only we stayed at home that fortnight. If we had I’m sure we would have visited our grandparents in Edinburgh, and I would have been able to get down to Old Meadowbank on the wet night the Russians were there. Despite the weather, that would have been a memorable meeting to have been at. If we had been in staycation mode then the following week we may well have persuaded my Dad to take us to Cowdenbeath by train to see the Lions v Rest of Scotland in what would prove to be their last ever meeting.

The only good news about going on holiday in the first fortnight in July rather than the second was that we got to the British Semifinal at The White City, a meeting some of my friends missed as they didn’t return from holiday until the following day.

Wising up in 1966

While accepting the inevitability of missing meetings, a quick look at the map showed Exeter to be travelling distance from Paignton and Torquay and a more detailed study of my father’s railway timetable book revealed that a suitable train service would take us back to Paignton from Exeter after the meeting – even better that it was Exeter St Thomas station, just a five minute walk from The County Ground. Sorted. We saw two meetings in Devon. Exeter beating Newcastle, featuring Graham Coombes my favourite rider, but losing to Halifax. It was love at first sight. The spectacular steel fenced track led to my lifelong adoration of the place, cemented by getting a Falcons penpal later that year. But it came at a high price. I again missed the Scotland v Russia test match. This time at The White City, when on a sunny night Scotland managed to hold on to win 57-51. One of my biggest regrets was never seeing Igor Plechanov. 

The other meeting I missed was the High Speed Gas Superbike trophy, an individual contested by sixteen riders from the two Scottish tracks, an unusual event but, with Scandinavians Bengt Jansson and Jonny Faafeng missing due to continental commitments, the field was rather lopsided, leading to some rather strung out heats.

More planning

Bournemouth is a popular holiday resort and one I coaxed my parents towards for our 1967 holiday in the knowledge that Poole was fairly close and joy of joys Glasgow were there in early July. This was a night I remember to this day with Bo Josefsson having his best meeting ever in Tigers colours, 14 points and an unsuccessful Silver Sash challenge against Gote Nordin – at last I get to see a sash match race. We also got over to Exeter to meet my pen pal and saw Neil Street beat Martin Ashby in a run off for the Jack Unstead Memorial Trophy but the meetings we missed were Hackney and Newport at The White City, featuring Swedes Torbjorn Harrysson and Bengt Jansson, Harrysson being another rider I never got to see in action. Had we not been away, I’d surely have gone through to Edinburgh to see a Scotland Select avenge the previously years hammering by Poland. That too would have been a good one to have seen.

Two holidays this year

I had just left school and managed two holidays during the summer of 1968. The first, with my family, was down to Newquay, which afforded the opportunity to see Second Division racing on a drizzly night at Plymouth’s strange sand and shingle track on a concrete base, certainly different. Another trip to my beloved Exeter, this time to see the Westernapolis and a seat in the stand – though we had to stand up to watch the racing, again certainly different. Meanwhile up in Glasgow, the toiling Tigers lost at home to Sheffield but beat an understrength Swindon on a night new Swede Ake Andersson actually won a heat, something I was never destined to see. Through at Coatbridge Sweden demolished GB 71-37 with Ove Fundin scoring paid 15, his best performance in Scotland, something else I missed.

My second holiday was a week’s trip with my mate with six meetings in seven nights, in between seeing the Tigers at Wolverhampton and Wimbledon, we got to meetings at Halifax, Newcastle, Leicester and Poole. A great trip and for once we didn’t miss any home meetings.

The September holiday weekend was a rite of passage weekend down at Ayr with the highlight seeing Geno Washington and the Ram Jam band and Vanity Fayre at the local ice rink, but it came at a very high cost and one I’ll always regret – what turned out to be the last ever meeting at The White City – the Glasgow Open Championship.

Working for a living

Adult life was now interfering with my speedway. While I missed quite a few Glasgow meetings at Hampden in 1969, I did manage to be at home that Easter in time for the opening meeting at Hampden….and it wasn’t all bad news. I was in London on the opening night of the season when Glasgow lost narrowly at Hackney and then rushed off to get the sleeper back home. My next batch of courses saw me get to Hackney, West Ham, Wimbledon, Rayleigh and Canterbury. It’s a regret that I never ventured to Romford though Thursday nights were often pub nights. West Ham were having a tough time that year and most home meetings that I got to were closely fought and often lost but they made great viewing from my neutral point of view and I still have warm memories of the double header night featuring Oxford and Kings Lynn, though Hammers fans may not share this view.

Hoilidays were on the back burner until September while I got to Exeter and attended my first ever Bank Holiday Monday morning meeting – quite a novelty at the time. However, I passed up on the highly controversial Scottish Cup meeting at Coatbridge after which the Tigers management rather huffily decreed that they would never return to Coatbridge for anything but official league and cup fixtures, ultimately a threat that wouldn’t be tested as the Monarchs then sold their licence to Wembley. While I was lying in the sun on a Majorcan beach, Norway were racing two tests against Scotland, something that hasn’t been repeated to this day and a pipeband were scrambling over the Coatbridge safety fence after the referee contrived to start the first a race after the interval with them still on the track. Things that fans still talk about to this day and I missed them. The Nicolson holiday jinx continued.