{"id":351,"date":"2019-10-05T16:54:48","date_gmt":"2019-10-05T16:54:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gonbys.com\/?p=351"},"modified":"2019-10-05T16:54:48","modified_gmt":"2019-10-05T16:54:48","slug":"manchester-city-1953","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/?p=351","title":{"rendered":"Manchester City, 1953"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

It was Harold\n\u201cBudgie\u201d Perton\u2019s idea to visit the talking otters of Alderley\nEdge, and I\u2019d said it was a bad idea from the off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRemember what\nhappened when that polar bear gave you a tip in Dudley Zoo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was\ndifferent,\u201d he said, with the characteristic forward twitch of the\nneck that had given him his nickname, \u201cCaptive animals will tell\nyou anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was ironic, given our current circumstances, that I\u2019d turned down a trip with the Speleologist Squadron, thinking a simple train journey preferable to a four-day exploration of Derbyshire pot-holes en route to Maine Road. But the express had yet to even stop at Stafford before Budgie was pestering me to change at Crewe for a slow train through Cheshire and I was longing to feel the ache in my back and the damp around my ankles. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

… one of them had a small guitar and they were singing ballads in the lazy August sun. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\u2019d alighted at\nAlderley Edge and headed straight to the Drum and Monkey for a couple\nof pints before climbing up the Edge to a small stream marked on the\nmap given to Budgie by some Stafford Road fan called Hosby whose\nrecent luck on the horses had allowed him to hire a wireless radio\nset from Rediffusion. The otters were easy enough to find, as one of\nthem had a small guitar and they were singing ballads in the lazy\nAugust sun. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEh up,\u201d said\nthe guitarist as we approached (they\u2019d just finished a number about\na shrew that fell in love with a magpie).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHowdo?\u201d said\nanother scratching his ear. We returned their greetings and there\nwas an uncomfortable silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh,\u201d said the\nguitarist, \u201cYou\u2019re here to see us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said\nBudgie, twitching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought you\nwere ramblers or summat. What do yer need to know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe future,\u201d\nsaid Budgie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet me guess,\u201d\nsaid the smallest of them, who had been eyeing us up rather\nsuspiciously since we arrived, \u201cYou need to know\u2026 anything you\ncan bet on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We were silent. The\notters laughed. \u201cSuch mundane work, in every sense,\u201d said the\nguitarist, with a shake of his head, \u201c I could tell you so much\nmore\u2026, when you\u2019ll get a lady Prime Minister, when they\u2019ll\nclose the last cotton mill, what the Russians really want\u2026; but\nyou\u2019d rather know who finishes second in the 2.40 at Haydock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, yes\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, as it\u2019s a\nstrictly commercial interest you have, there will be a small fee. \nThree bob.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThree bob?\u201d\nsaid Budgie, with a particularly anxious double-twitch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStigmatized Child.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. Dead cert,\nthough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Budgie dug into his pockets and the transaction was made. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStigmatized Child,” said the guitarist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“That was unfair,” I said. Budgie was bright red. The otter stared back at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“To finish second,” he said, “in the 2.40 at Haydock: Stigmatized Child.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Oh,” I said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d said Budgie, clearly still a little bitter about the consultancy fee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou lads aren\u2019t\nfrom round here, are yer?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said,\n\u201cStaffordshire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOop here to watch\nthe Wolves?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAr.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, if you can\nfind anybody to take a bet on that game you\u2019ll beat Citeh foo-er\nnil.\u201d \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you know\nanywhere we could place the other bet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve not got\na bookie oop here?\u201d the guitarist made a glance at his more\nfurtive-looking friend, before continuing, more quietly, \u201cWell,\nyes. I do know someone. But don\u2019t tell them I sent you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we headed west to the abandoned copper mine, I tried to persuade Budgie to rethink the enterprise. It was clear, though, that nothing would deter him \u2013 after all, once you\u2019ve taken as unreasonable a decision as to make a subterranean rendezvous with giant moles in order to place a bet, reason itself has largely been abandoned. After forty minutes we were crawling through a narrow channel some thirty feet in, unsure if this were even the right mine. Once the narrow part was passed, the tunnel split into two and I decided to open the packet of pork scratchings I\u2019d bought in the Drum and Monkey and drop morsels every so often so we could find our way out again. We had finished dropping the contents of Budgie\u2019s packet by the time we found them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They jumped out of\nus from openings either side of the tunnel. Each was about four foot\nsix in height and carried a lamp. Their beady eyes looked at us and\nthey let out a roar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Yow ay moles!” cried Budgie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYow ay moles!\u201d\ncried Budgie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you\ndoing here? This is our tunnel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve come to\nlay a bet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFive bob\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d\nI said to him. He clearly wasn\u2019t, but there was no going back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGive it here,\u201d\nsaid the larger bear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Budgie handed over a\ndollar and the two bears walked off, picking the scratchings up and\neating them as they went.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey! Don\u2019t you\nwant to know what I\u2019m betting on?\u201d called Budgie. But the pair\njust laughed and carried on crunching into the scratchings, before\nwarning us not to follow them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"The
One of the “giant moles” of Alderley Edge.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

We were alone in the\ndark. I lit a Craven \u2018A\u2019 and looked at Budgie in the light of\nthe match. \u201cIf that hoss comes in I\u2019m comin\u2019 back for moi\nmoney,\u201d he said sullenly. I told him he\u2019d be better off thinking\nabout survival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, half an hour\nlater, we were tired, and our backs ached from multiple low passages.\n I had just four matches and only one cigarette left. As I lit it, I\nthought I heard sounds from a tunnel somewhere; perhaps the bears\nwere returning with beer they\u2019d bought with their five illegitimate\nshillings. But I soon recognized the changes in pitch, and realized\nit had nothing to do with any preternatural fauna. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Song of the Speleologist Squadron (\u201cWanderers Underground\u201d)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

 No hole\u2019s too small
 If it is we\u2019ll crawl
 To see the Wanderers play
 For we love to camp
 And be where it\u2019s damp
 When the Wolves are playing away
 
 We\u2019re the Speleologist Squadron!
 They call us the Caving Boys!
 In the ground or under it  
 We\u2019re making all the noise!
 
 We\u2019re the Speleologist Squadron!
 We\u2019re the Wanderers Underground!
 Find us a pothole or a football goal
 And we\u2019ll make this terrible sound! <\/pre>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI thought yow\nwere gooin\u2019 owverground this wickend!\u201d laughed Billy Braddock\nwhen his lamp appeared around the corner.  \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI thought you\nwere in the Peaks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe was.  Found a\ntunnel straight through.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Caving Boys already knew the Alderley Edge mines very well, and we were out in no time, rushing to the station for the next train to Manchester.  In time for kick-off, we watched Cullis\u2019s boys come through with the four-nil win the otters had foretold.  Budgie whined a bit about returning to the Edge, particularly when he saw the racing results in the Pink Final, but we plied him with drink in the Bull\u2019s Head and managed to get him onto the express.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n
All in all a memorable day in what would be a most memorable season.   God bless the Speleologist Squadron and up the bloomin’ Wolves!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The fauna of Alderley Edge is not to be trusted.  And “giant moles” are hard to find.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":355,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-351","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/351","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=351"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/351\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=351"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=351"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=351"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}