As you will have read over the course of the year. The school staff team has consistently played at the mercy of the Sixth Form. Week after week of seemingless effortless exertion on their part had left some rather shattered staff faces at the bar, consigned to spend each weekend pondering the downfall of old age on weary bodies and tired minds. Belief in ourselves had all but gone by Christmas. Desire to win left soon after, man to man we were content for some sort of a run out….now it was merely to ‘work up a sweat.’
The rumours around school of a story in the year book about the invincibles and a photo being organized of the undefeated team served to confirm the sixth form dominance over the last 10 months. At a time I am sure this may well have been construed as arrogant or disrespectful….. but after week upon week of collapse perhaps we could not argue?
As often cited, there were indeed some teacher team players whose identification as a teacher in the true sense of the word was merely tangential. Perhaps at onetime they had been in a classroom, maybe they had accidentally bought a copy of the TES, at times in our ill fated campaign they simply needed to know someone who knew someone who was a teacher to qualify.
However on this particular Friday there was not the seasoned ringers the students had come to expect. Just two former students whose names I never caught and still don’t know. The sixth form seemed, in terms of first team starters to be at full strength. Adam R in goal, Harold, Denny, Dom M, Archie, Josh, Henry.
The staff were without the non staff of Ricky, Andy and Mark. Things did not look out of the ordinary. Richard (teacher) Sutcliffe was guesting from down the road. This was going to be another run out. A chance to forget about marking and work up an appetite or preferably a thirst.

There was however one change to the staff team. In November of 1992 Sir Alex Ferguson was nonchently discussing the inclement weather, golf and horseracing with his good friend and longterm foe Howard Wilkinson over the Penines in Leeds. In the course of this benign discussion, Eric Cantona, a previously inconsistent flair player with a penchant for over elaboration and a dislike for authority was sold to Manchester United for 1.2 million. Therein lies one of the defining moments in the career of one of the most successful managers in English football. Utd went from being on the fringes, to securing the biggest trophy haul ever recorded over the next 15 years, with the signing of Cantona seen by many as a catalyst.
With similar naivety, in a crowded canteen a short conversation meant that Nick Linden Van Amstel, from year 11, had been ‘signed’ to the staff team to cover the injured Mr Stubberfield and musically engaged Mr Traford. After a string of fine saves throughout the game his contribution would turn out to be massive.
The game began at a frenetic pace with both sides seemingly able to tolerate the energy sapping heat. Richard Sutcliffe was slowing things down in midfield and releasing Don Carlos with every opportunity we had. Dave Cale kept close tabs on Henry and anytime the sixth form did break through Nick saved the day. Carlos struck first only to be snuffed out by a clinical Dom Maybrey finish. Henry then scored another before Richard Sutcliffe replied with a cheeky half way line lob to cancel out earlier Sixth form pressure. There then appeared to be a lull from the sixth form, similar to the dead calm with in the eye of a storm. Time on the ball increased as pressure on each pass and cross decreased. I can only surmise that exam fatigued legs started to creep up on the sixth form. With Richard Sutcliffe adding a few more it was a pleasure to hear squeals of ‘stop the clock’ , as time began to evaporate in front of their own youthful eyes, the staff ‘cannon fodder’ team cantered to a 6-4 victory. As age has cast its irreversible toll on each of the staff team the paradox lay in hearing these crys from the sixth form as each week we bemoan how quickly our own clocks have moved.
Handshakes are always easier to give when you know you have triumphed. The limpness of each one I received told me all I needed to know. Youthful talented exuberance had been reminded that sport has no guarantees. That’s why old slow tired men continue to play it. Hoping for the occasional anomaly to revive feelings of success and victory. It will have to be seen if the photo shoot will be cancelled or the year book story still written…. for surely the last chapter will have to tell the 6 – 4 staff victory tale.
AJGibson