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Where is the site? Maybe start a new one. Anyone remember the wires to the caretakers house being cut? Circa 1960 I was hit by a hockey stick. Several stitches later I never did like competitive sports. A prize list I have tells a tale. Ghostly voices from the past
When I used to knock around Bedlington with a few mates from Westridge we knew how to amuse ourselves. Knowing how to hockle well was a talent worth cultivating. Harry Wilson was the undisputed master. He knew how to howk up a pellet of phlegm, shape it to give it just the right heft and aerodynamics and propel it over an amazingly long distance with impressive accuracy. Once lying around on the grass at the tennis courts behind Holymount Square I saw him, from a sitting position, his back against the high chain link fence around the tennis courts, unleash a spectacular hockle straight up into the air and backwards over the fence onto the tennis court. We knew how to have a good time.