Doug Nicolson recalls July 30^th 1966, a day that is burned deeply into his psyche!

The Worst Sporting Day of My Life

Exam Results

It all started so well. Late July 1966 was bathed in a rosy glow. There were still over three weeks of the school holidays to enjoy and my exam results had, surprisingly, proved to be better than expected. Albeit they arrived a day later than everyone else’s! All my mates had them at the White City for Glasgow’s traditional Wednesday night meeting before the two week “Glasgow Fair” holidays, but mine hadn’t arrived that morning. My less sensitive friends were suggesting I had failed them all and consequently there was no certificate to receive through the post! Anyway, arrive they did and my uncle was so pleased with my results that he gave me money to go through to Edinburgh to see the Scotland v Poland international at the end of the month.

Bus Journey Commentary

By the time the Saturday dawned, it was apparent there was going to be a football match south of the border that day, and quite a match too, with England playing West Germany at Wembley in the World Cup Final. We listened to the commentary on the radio on the supporters’ bus taking us through to Edinburgh. Typical of the times, reception was patchy at best and often nonexistent at others. With the score tied at 2-2 and extra time being played only the front of the bus could hear the commentary but their wails of anguish signaled an England goal. Geoff Hurst had “scored”! Probably the most controversial goal ever. Photos would later prove that the whole ball hadn’t crossed the line and as such shouldn’t have been given. A fourth goal scored when there were spectators invading the pitch obviously shouldn’t have been given either – but I digress! Suffice to say our mood was fairly sombre as we got off the coach Still we consoled ourselves that we wouldn’t be hearing about THAT result for the rest of our lives. It would die down after a couple of years. Aye right!

The Big Event and the Big Let Down

Again it all started pretty promisingly. Antoni Woryna had bike trouble in the first heat and the points were split and George Hunter finished second ahead of Pawel Walosek in heat two. Then the roof fell in! Charlie Monk’s bike failed at the start in his first race in heat three and Hunter failed to finish in the next leaving Scotland trailing 17-7. Monk, having sorted out the gremlins, made the gate in heat five but left the narrowest of gaps coming out of the second bend. In a flash Tkocz dived under him in a ruthless pass on Charlie Monk, which nearly put the Tiger onto the railway line at the back of the stadium! Monk and reserve Bert Harkins stopped the run of Polish 5-1s with second places in heats seven and eight, relegating Pogorzelski and Tkocz to third places. But that was as good as it got, with six more 5-1s following, leaving the score at a demoralising 19-65 after heat fourteen. The Polish bikes seemed far faster and they were pulling away from Monk, Hunter and McKinlay on the straights. Ken McKinlay had blown his bike and Marian Kaiser, a team mate at Leicester a few years earlier, sportingly lent him his bike for his last two races from which he totaled five points. Hunter, too, borrowed this bike and won the final heat aboard it, although by this time it seemed the Poles were feeling sorry for us by then. 29-79 a score never to be forgotten.

The Old Meadowbank circuit had suited the Poles down to the ground and Scotland team manager likened the Poles to a team of eight Barry Briggs.

The Long Journey Home

It was a very gloomy bus journey home that night. The traditional stop for chips, in Armadale of all places, saw a local shout some disparaging remarks about Tigers fans hero Charlie Monk – some things don’t change! Rab Bryceland, the Speedway Star vendor at the White City, gave chase and no doubt dished out retribution. However this delayed our journey back to Glasgow and we missed our last bus, leaving us with a long walk home, plenty of time to reflect on the joys of the day. Down south Denis Law had decided to play golf rather than watch the football and, after a pretty poor round, was confronted with the news of an England win, throwing his clubs to the ground, he  said it was the blackest day of his life. It wasn’t great for us either