GROWING UP: Goalkeepers Are Different—A Memoir
Damien Wilkinson, complete with obligatory shin pads, Sandy Lane, Bradford, late 70s (Image: Peter Wilkinson)
I was football mad from an early age.
Growing up in the 70s my earliest football related memories were probably around 1976-77.
At that time Liverpool and Man U were arguably the biggest teams in the country, and were a strong pull for a glory-hunting 7 year old. The alternative being to keep things local, eg 4th Division Bradford City, or go higher up the pyramid, and Leeds United, which, for whatever reason, didn’t strike a chord with me.
I gained my early football education from magazines like Shoot!, a strict devotion to League Ladders, the back pages of the Daily Mail and the endless pursuit of Panini stickers.
When the British weather forced us inside, the green felt of the Subbuteo pitch and its "flick-to-kick" technique provided a haven of table-top recreation.
Outside, we grew obsessed with the sportswear brands quietly defining our world—Adidas, Nike, Patrick, Gola, Umbro, and Mitre.
We spent hours in search of the holy grail in trainers (the classic Adidas Bamba) or that perfect match ball—where Mitre comfortably swept the board back then, especially if you were lucky enough to lay hands on a crisp white Maxima or the indestructible rock-hard Mouldmaster, which always made an impression. Especially when it cannoned onto your thighs, leaving a Turin Shroud-esque imprint!
And, of course, there was the mythical orange ball that surfaced the moment snow covered the pitch and only the touchlines were swept clear.
With Kevin Keegan and Kenny Dalglish the stars of the era, I pledged my allegiance to Liverpool and remember well the European cup triumphs of 1977 and 1978, especially the latter as Dalglish, firmly announced his presence on the European stage with the winner against FC Bruges. The other long lasting memory of the recently departed, and much loved Keegan, in addition to his football talents, was his Superstars television appearance and the cuts, grazes and abrasions suffered from a bike fall during one of the races in 1976. He was a true icon during my formative years.
The 1978 Argentina World Cup, with Cancion de Argentina, its memorable BBC theme tune, ticker-tape littered pitches, Archie Gemmill’s wonder goal and Scotland’s habitual so-close-yet-so-far failure, remains ingrained in the memory banks.
Around that time the annual Home International ‘Friendlies’ were another key feature, the England v Scotland fixture always being an end of season highlight. Our next door neighbour, Bob White, was a proud Scotsman who religiously attended both the England v Scotland match as well as each year’s FA Cup Final at Wembley. Knowing my football passion he would always return bringing me a commemorative programme, which was a treasured memento for an 8 year old.
Speaking of which, the FA Cup Final definitely meant something back then, from tuning into Football Focus and the build up from midday, we were treated to some great matches - the Arsenal v Man U one from 1979 and Alan Sunderland’s late goals being more indelible moments from my earlier years.
The Sandy Lane Years
I grew up in 70s and 80s living in the Sandy Lane area of Bradford, with primary school (St Cuthberts) a few miles away in Heaton.
In addition to the football, life was dominated by television (Grange Hill, Multi Coloured Swap Shop, Tiswas, Starsky and Hutch, Mike Yarwood, The Two Ronnies, Why Don’t You?), films (Star Wars, Indiana Jones, ET, Bugsy Malone) and music, be it the radio (the weekly Top 40 Chart rundown and trying to record favourite songs without any DJ commentary!) or the popularity of 7 inch singles at the time (see also my Musical Maps journey article).
With my best friend Paul Tonks, we explored all of the above, kicked footballs endlessly against the wall (Slam!), did the same with tennis racquets and balls, played cricket, 99 Relievo or 3-and-in with whoever else would join in, and garden-hopped our way across the neighbourhood! When the weather was not too good we played snooker or darts in the garage.
Best Friends, Damien Wilkinson and Paul Tonks - early 80s
For those watching in black and white - snooker in the garage! (Image: Paul Tonks)
But most of all we were both football mad! Paul’s Man U fandom was at odds with my Merseyside affliction, but the healthy rivalry incongruously cemented our friendship.
Whether it was football or doing impressions in Mike Yarwood or The Grumbleweeds' style, we most often got up to no good, but certainly had a lot of fun doing so!
We did fleetingly unite our football interests, being invited to a tour of Bradford City prior to a Division 4 match in the early 80s. We’d originally arrived late, missing a pre-season open day, but kindly received an invite back for a full personal tour of the ground and facilities, even taking in the changing rooms as the players got ready for the match. The sight of a stark naked David McNiven warming things up in the communal bath wasn’t quite what we were expecting from this ‘access all areas’ invitation!
I also recall being on holiday together in Scarborough, Paul’s Dad gleefully telling us Bradford City had just beaten Liverpool in the League Cup on the 27th August 1980, Bobby Campbell scoring the winner in the first leg tie!
The Goalkeeper’s Calling
For reasons not entirely clear even after all these years, I ended up in goals. Not for the usual reason of not being any good outfield, but deep down I felt somewhat of a calling to this less than glamorous position.
This culminated in playing in the St Cuthbert’s Primary School team coached by teacher, Andrew Jackson. It has to be said that we weren’t that good, which meant I saw a lot of action during the games. And conceded a lot of goals. But generally enjoyed jumping and diving around, patrolling the goal area, and whilst I wasn’t the tallest player, always had a bit of a ‘spring’ to reach the ball! It did however mean you were regularly the coldest, wettest and muddiest player on the pitch.
This was back in the day when goalkeeper gloves resembled something closer to gardening wear. I sported a pair of yellow wool gloves covered in tiny rubber pimples—they looked the part, but were utterly hopeless in practice, especially when rain-sodden. Later came the ubiquitous Sondico gloves with rubber strips across the fingers and palms, endorsed by the likes of Peter Shilton and Ray Clemence, which actually provided some traction, before the stitching came out and they flapped about before disintegrating.
The essential £2.15 goalkeeping ‘friction grip’ tools of the trade (Image: Internet)
Clemence and Shilton would be key influences on my burgeoning football career, both of them unusually sharing the England goalkeeping position for many years, in addition to their day jobs at Liverpool and Forest respectively. I took a shine to Ray Clemence in particular, studying as much about him as possible in my quest to emulate his shot stopping prowess!
Around this time, I was gifted the Brian Glanville book, Goalkeepers are Different. I was immediately taken by the story of Ronnie Blake, as he developed a career as a goalkeeper in the English Division 1, excelling under the intense pressure of the Kop at Anfield before reaching the absolute pinnacle of a Cup Final. The book enthralled me and I read it numerous times as I replayed key moments against my own journey, longing to achieve that childhood dream of making it as a football ‘pro’.
Goalkeepers are Different, Brian Glanville (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
Other football representations on mud infested pitches included appearances for the Cubs team (58th Bradford West, First Martyrs), 5-a-side tournaments at Nab Wood sports centre and Bradford Parkside (where I would generally play outfield) and also a newly established team, “Match King”, set up by local entrepreneur, Mike Nicholson, which was based at Sandy Lane’s Greenwood Park.
The England goalkeeper shirt, made famous by my heroes, Clemence and Shilton, early 80s. And, yes, I’m wearing Man City Umbro socks! (Image: Peter Wilkinson)
1979 and I was ready to move onto Middle School, as it was back then, which saw me move to St Edmund Campion (more widely and lovingly known as ‘Eddie Camp’) on Rhodesway in Allerton, Bradford.
‘Eddie Camp’ Middle School, Rhodesway, Allerton, Bradford (Image: Facebook)
The footballing carried on, still turning out between the sticks, and I recall a number of matches both at home and away (Daisy Hill, Leaventhorpe, Allerton, Fairweather Green amongst some of the schools visited) as we ploughed our way through some of the adverse conditions that the UK weather frequently throws at you. The woefully mis-titled all-weather Redgra pitch at Eddie Camp infamously and mercilessly shaved and hacked bits off your knees and legs as you slid around on that long-discontinued surface of clay, shale, fine limestone, and gravel—bits of which I probably still have buried in my knees today.
The local matches, perhaps unexpectedly, then took on an international pivot. Two years running we visited Belgium on a school trip to play matches around FC Bruges (Club Brugge Koninklijke Voetbalvereniging), a somewhat impressive trip for a 10/11 year old, visiting the main stadium and playing on an adjacent training pitch of one of the most decorated clubs in Belgium.
The Early 80s Bruges pennant (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
The Belgium trips, consisting of two school years worth of teams, included some notable participants - Andy and Chris Kiwomya, Wayne Heseltine all went on to have careers in the professional leagues. I remember the long coach trips across the UK and Europe, the Kiwomya boys’ mother even making the trip and helping keep order on board!
With the obligatory purchase of a Swiss Army knife and the odd ‘stripper’ pen or two, we all headed back to the UK, one of the years to a heavy fall of snow in April! With the roads impassable by car my Dad had to walk from Sandy Lane through Chellow Dene Woods to pick me up and it was a slightly surreal experience to walk back home in the early morning hours.
At Eddie Camp we were coached by Dougie Rooks, who we all looked up to and was a notable influence on our football development during those formative years, and even moved near to where I lived in Sandy Lane during my time at the school. He even wore the previously mentioned and eulogised Adidas Bambas which added to his legendary status!
Dougie Rooks, 1981 Guiseley Team (Image: Telegraph & Argus)
Around this time, my physical growth began to fail to keep up with my lofty goalkeeper ambitions and it became clear that I was too small to be a keeper at that point! As my time at Eddie Camp came to an end, and I readied myself for life at upper school and St Bedes, my football journey had reached a crossroads. I’d tried to re-invent myself as an outfield player latterly, always had an eye for a goal and fancied myself as a striker, but this never reached true fruition and my own football focus waned in the mid 80s.
With less game time, I turned more to watching the sport.
I’d followed the goings-on of Bradford City in the early 80s: the impact Roy McFarland had prior to departing, the emergence of Bobby Campbell as a true club legend, and the Bantam progressivism spearheaded by Terry Yorath and Trevor Cherry, which preceded the tragic events of 11th May 1985.
The fire in 1985 raised the profile of the city for desperately sad reasons, but saw a community pull together in a truly admirable fashion as people worked through the grief. My own uncle had been in the main stand but thankfully was able to escape to safety. Still, the event left a permanent mark on the city that remains today.
As the football club made its nomadic way back into football, playing at Odsal, Leeds Road and Elland Road whilst Valley Parade was rebuilt, I found myself paying more attention to the club and it led to attending a first match at Valley Parade since the early 80s in 1986–my good friend. Paul King, coaxing me down there. Cherry and Yorath had been somewhat unfairly sacked with local ex-player, Terry Dolan taking the hotseat. A cup match against Oldham saw Dolan tinker with the set up, the rejuvenated team scoring 5 goals in the first half as they chalked up a 5-1 win.
This sowed a new seed and I was to return to watch the Bantams in the following season and every one since then!
This pilgrimage is captured further in THE DEBITS & CREDITS: Claret, Amber, and the Passing of Time—A Valley Parade Ledger.
A Football Rebirth
As I entered full time employment in 1990, playing football reared its head again. I’d played a bit over the years - five-a-side games and such like but University had passed me by from a football perspective, and its re-emergence was therefore a bit of a surprise.
It started off with work related kick-arounds, the odd favour for friends who worked in the Insurance profession and needed an extra player, which then morphed a bit more seriously into matches against other professional firms in the legal and accounting world. The Leeds Law 5-a-side League saw weekly turn outs at far-flung 5-a-side indoors and outdoors venues dotted around Leeds (The John Charles stadium, Morley, Armley, Holt Park and many more) and I finally managed to re-purpose myself as a goal scorer rather than the keeper!
There was certainly a marked contrast from the childhood innocence of the mud-patches of Sandy Lane to a slightly aching adult body running around The John Charles Stadium on a rainy Tuesday night. It was a decent standard, lots of ‘ringers’ playing and there was certainly no love lost between the teams—with no referee, things frequently turned a bit ‘sour’.
In tandem with this I answered a call from a mate, Andy Nolan, to play 11-a-side in one of the departmental leagues at Bradford University, and this spawned what turned into a 10 year adventure at Laisteridge Lane, Bradford.
The Athletico Admin Years
Initially invited to a training session at Laisteridge Lane by Andy, I remember finishing the session with coach Steve Wilson inviting all of the group to run onto a pass and shoot at the goal. As the group fired off shots waywardly in all directions, my turn came - dispatching an arrow like shot into the top corner which unsurprisingly secured my invite back for a match the following week!
And so began the 10 year plus journey.
The Inter-Departmental league, whilst being relatively informal, took on great seriousness once you stepped onto the hallowed artificial turf of Laisteridge Lane. Our team Athletico Admin, turned out in a full kit blagged by Steve from Geoffrey Richmond at Bradford City, no less; our appearance therefore generally heightened the resolve of the opposition to raise their own game and mask their own perceived sartorial shortcomings, their kit often just being a departmental T-shirt at best.
Over the years the weekly matches became a much looked forward to ritual. I was working in Bradford at KPMG for much of the time and always made sure I was back in the office for a 5pm departure every Wednesday.
My first season saw me crowned Players’ Player, notching up an impressive haul of goals, but the best thing was the great camaraderie amongst the team. From a varied background of players, some with tenuous links to the University (myself included) we had a great going on, helped by the post match debriefs at The Westleigh Hotel nearby, where every kick of the ball (and man) was re-lived.
Receiving the Players’ Player award 1997/98: Steve Wilson, Tara Singh-Bhogal and Damien Wilkinson (Image: Andy Nolan)
They were some great rivalries with a number of the other departments. The Optometry fixture (we had some Optometry lecturers in our ranks) always held significance, as did the Engineering fixture, which always seemed to involve some controversy or moment of friction.
Some early match stats from 1998
We had triumphs and disappointments aplenty. My penalty miss in the semi final of the cup against Envi Sci has never been lived down (or failed to be mentioned with its Andres Escobar related connotations at the time), we had refereeing controversies, amazing goals, incredible misses, head—losses and meltdowns, fights, serious injuries to name but a few of the weekly occurrences.
Through the cold, the rain, the sleet, the wind and the snow, we’d have esteemed heads of department completely lose it out on the pitch as every match up at Laisteridge Lane reverberated with Bill Shankly’s ‘football is more important than life and death’ quote.
Not to forget the emergence of the legendary Wilkinson’s Word of the Day, courtesy of the aforementioned Mr Nolan, where a seemingly random word would be published daily, using a misappropriated Wilkinson’s Sword logo!
Unwittingly, and sombrely we played a part in the redesign of the ground - the low level boards surrounding the perimeter causing a significant injury to one of our players, Marc, falling onto them, which led to their removal. A terrible way for this to happen though.
The commemoration of that missed penalty 97-98!
Playing twice a week with both Admin and work, took some toll on my own body - a snapped ACL in 2001, causing me to sit out a season back then. I did manage several seasons after this without any ill effects so thanks to Steve Bollen at The Yorkshire Clinic for prolonging things knee-wise.
I finally signed off with Athletico Admin as I neared my 40th; the legs and running, never my strong point, starting to tell me it was time to hang the Predators up. In the final season an overhead kick equaliser against arch-rivals Engineering, even drawing applause from the opposition, became something of an epitaph!
But the bonds live on! The back end of 2025 saw some of the team have a long overdue catch up in Bradford—soon reliving all of those memories over a pint or two, it was like we had never been away! Though I doubt the bodies could recreate the visions of playing we excitedly recounted.
The 2025 Athletico Admin reunion at Salt Beer Factory, Saltaire, Bradford
The End Game?
After signing off with Athletico Admin my football appearances naturally dwindled somewhat.
There were a few comebacks, largely work related and always 5-a-side, and I can safely report that after all of the years I had finally shaken off the goalkeeper imprint.
But having said that, I’m proud of what I did back then, the adversity that was overcome and, whilst I never did achieve that childhood dream of making it as a pro, I have always embraced the defiant and immortal final lines of Glanville’s book.
The final chapter culminates at Wembley in the FA Cup Final. As young Ronnie Blake stands in goal for Borough United, they are 1-0 up, but with Blake nursing a severe thigh injury and time running out, Everton push everyone forward. Blake throws himself at a shot from Joe Royle, saves it, but blacks out from the sheer pain as his injured leg hits the ground.
As he comes round, he grabs physio Don and asks, “What happened? Did I save it?”
Don replies, “Listen,” and Blake hears the roaring Borough supporters singing: “We’ve won the Cup! We’ve won the Cup!”
“All you’ve got to do is clear the corner,” adds Don.
“‘Me?’ I said. ‘I could clear fifty corners.’”
Bring on the walking football…???
