(33) 'My Underwhelmed Brothers'

[Ken]

Confidence and ego were the subjects we had been discussing, where they came from, when they arrived, why they sometimes disappeared?  We were in the small Welsh village of Prengwyn, in a pub we sometimes frequented, talking to a couple of the regulars we had come to know.  I had been silently listening to some fascinating tales and viewpoints from all those there, but it wasn't until the pub regulars had left that I made my contribution to the reminiscing of yesteryear.  I have always kept much of my past private from the local people so it was just my brother's, Bob, Len and Gordon, who heard me speak of the time I met the then England Goalkeeper, Gordon Banks.  It was in the early 1970's and not that many years after England had won the Football World Cup and Gordon Banks, by common consent, was still considered to be the worlds greatest goalkeeper.  Back then,  my company had three small shops and I had my buying hat on, for I was at one of the many sports trade fairs, negotiating terms for the stocks I would require in the coming months.  It was there that I saw Gordon Banks with a salesman I knew, half heartedly displaying a range of sports goods that included his new range of goalkeeping accessories.  Before long we were chatting and, to my amazement, I found myself persuading Gordon to make an appearance at my Woking shop.  I was able to tell him that Geoff Hurst had already done the same at my Guildford shop, and with a hand shake and a promise not to let me down, we agreed on terms and pencilled in a date in both our diaries.  I was delighted beyond words with my success but the question was, would he turn up?

As I travelled home that night I thought of what I had achieved, the Geoff Hurst deal had been different, for that had all been arranged for us by the company he was contracted to, we knew he had to turn up.  The purpose of this exercise was to publicise our young and growing company, and to achieve that we would need to promote the 'Stars' visit in numerous ways.  Adverts in the local papers would have to be organised, mass handouts of promotional leaflets throughout the area had to be made, extra stocks had to be obtained to maximise the sales potential of his appearance. All of this was easy for me, for I knew I was good at such things, but what if he failed to turn up?  I could just imagine the anger of the hundreds of fans I hoped would attend and the level of bad publicity that would follow.  When I met, David Watson, my fellow director, the next morning, he was full of woe and doubt, and that, combined with a genuine fear, grew inside him as the date of the now mass publicised visit grew closer.  I was calmer for I had done all I could, the staff had the Woking shop packed full with highly saleable football memorabilia and the mood of the youth of the town was one of highly charged excitement.  Looking back, I'm still amazed I had the confidence to make such things happen but, at that stage of my life, my arrogance of certainty played in my favour.  That was part of the story I told my brother's in that small Welsh pub, years after the event. I felt my tale had added to the conversation about the various aspects of confidence and ego, and I went on with my memory of the Gordon Banks saga to my spellbound listeners!

During the week that led up to the proposed visit, I was obviously in touch with both Gordon Banks, and the salesman who had introduced us, many times.  We had arranged to meet for lunch at, 'The Hut Hotel' in Wisley Village, at 12 noon on the day of the appearance.  That would give us ample opportunity to enjoy some good food and be at the shop for the advertised appearance time of 3pm.  I was at the hotel by 11.15am, and with me was a visibly agitated David Watson.  I had also taken with me a young member of our staff who was to become one of my closest colleagues in the years to come. His name was Alan Perfett and I had come to know him because he'd once played in goal for Shamley Green.  He had been introduced to me by his father who was a postman who sometimes worked with my brother's, Bob and Len.  Gordon Banks was Alan's hero and I thought it would be nice touch for him to enjoy lunch with us, so that's what happened.  The salesman, a man called Geoff Wheeler, drew up in the car park right on time, and he and Gordon Banks got out.  We saw this from the hotel window and I turned to David Watson and pointed at the Toilet door, "You can go and change your underpants now," I informed him rather unkindly, "He's here!"

Lunch was good and just before 3pm a well fed group of five people drew up at the back of the Woking branch of Supasports.  Alan Perfett, Shamley Green's goalkeeper, was amongst them, chatting happily to his new best friend, England's Goalkeeper, Gordon Banks.  I led the way to the back door of the upper level of the shop and knocked.  An excited member of staff let us in and told me there were hundreds of people queueing outside in the street, he added the shop downstairs was also packed full of expectant fans.  I will always remember the huge roar of cheering that erupted as first, my legs were seen, when I walked down those stairs, then it was followed by a combined sigh of disappointment when my face appeared instead of Gordon Banks'.  However, twenty seconds later, the main man was there and two hours of near pandemonium began.  I had to assert the full force of my personality to keep some kind of order amongst the everlasting queue of people who wanted to meet the great man. Gordon smiled, chatted and signed countless autograph's as he answered the fans questions and shook their enthusiastic hands.  It was my job to keep the queue flowing and I thanked each person for coming, and then directed them up the stairs, where they were sold souvenirs and other items before being shown out of the back entrance by my colleagues.  

The day was an amazing success and Gordon Banks proved to be a delightful man, in the years to come I was to meet many famous people but he outshone them all.  In the days that followed his visit our sales soared but one damper on the excitement was a visit I had from a senior local policeman.  In no uncertain terms he told me off for not giving them advanced notice of the event, he said his officers had informed him that the crowd at one time was so tightly packed, that they feared the street's shop windows would collapse.  I obviously apologised and I never made that mistake again.  

This memory began because of a pub conversation on the subject of confidence and ego and we asked ourselves where such things come from, when do they first arrive, and when, if ever, do they disappear.  Well, we never got to answer any of those questions but my Gordon Banks story did create some interest of sorts from Bob who said, "Gordon Banks, who'd he play for, was it 'Stoke City"?  "No, he played for 'Leicester City", replied Len. "Actually, he played for both", chipped in Gordon and so ensued yet another conversation about sport.  I told that last part to Jenny when we awoke the next morning, and she said, "But what did they say about Gordon Banks day at your Woking shop?"  She laughed when I said, "Nothing, Zilch, not a single word, but I did discover he once played for 'Chesterfield Town!"

So, that my friend's, and fellow descendant's of Walt and Ruby, may explain why my ego never got out of hand, for as you can tell my Woking shop story left my brother's totally underwhelmed.  But it did give Jenny and I a good chuckle before I went downstairs and laid the table and she cooked us all breakfast.  It also explains why I never took the time to tell them of the night Bobby Moore and I had Dinner together at the Hilton Hotel!          

[Ken]

This is a memory of my telling Bob, Len and Gordon of an event in my life I was rather proud of.  They were not exactly spellbound by my tale of success...

[Ken]

I was delighted beyond words with my success but the question was, would he turn up? .......