It was the first day of Christmas, and nowhere around lay thick snow. Nevertheless transport was proving to be an issue. But for the odd puncture, some near-fatal speed-wobbles on Yarlet Bank, north of Stafford, and a chilling encounter with a spectral lollipop lady in Sandbach that left us paralysed with fear and sickening for home for nigh on three hours, the journey up to Old Trafford with the Honourable and Worthy Pedallers had been uneventful. We\u2019d arrived in good time for beer before kick-off, and enjoyed the ninety minutes, although the referee had deemed it part of his duties to reward Manchester United a Christmas victory at all cost, and the Major\u2019s men travelled south empty-handed for the return fixture. Arriving at Piccadilly Station we were faced with more bad news: rail services south of Manchester had been cancelled at short notice for some emergency engineering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, we would be able to reach Molineux in time for the kick-off, though we would have to negotiate unfamiliar terrain in the black of night. We had lights. We had sufficient puncture repair supplies. And, if we were lucky enough to find some out-of-the-way country hostelry willing to serve us, the money saved on train fare would come in very handy indeed \u2013 especially if they had some pork pies. The problem was that every single one of the Honourable and Worthy Pedallers had arranged to be at his mother\u2019s house by seven-thirty that evening, and every one of the mothers had agreed to time her Christmas dinner accordingly. Not only might the whole society miss its Christmas dinner; there was also a distinct possibility that mothers would hold off serving until their son\u2019s arrival, leading to dry turkey, lumpy gravy, cold sprouts, black parsnips, greasy roast potatoes, overcooked carrots, burnt Yorkshires, crabby babies and consequent domestic unjoyfulness. Most of us had planned to spend large portions of St Stephen\u2019s, St John the Apostle\u2019s and Holy Innocents\u2019 Day down the pub (Christmas Day having fallen on a Friday that year), but having to do so in order to avoid an angry family would take some of the shine off the experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of the fifty members who\u2019d made the trip to Manchester that day, only George Forge (of Tettenhall, of course) had a telephone. He placed the call from a booth in the station while we stood smoking cigarettes (the station caf\u00e9 was closed).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018You look glum, mate,\u2019 said Neville Proudlock as George rejoined the group.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Far-from-perfect timing…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Yes,\u2019 said George, accepting one of Neville\u2019s Woodbines, \u2018Far-from-perfect timing, as it turns out. Mummy says the bird has already been in twenty minutes, and she\u2019s busy peeling the potatoes as we speak. Katherine is peeling the sprouts and Alexandra is carving the little crosses on the stalks, while Mrs Collier is obviously\u2026.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Why do they do that?\u2019 asked Dicky Toolan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018What?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Why do they carve those silly little crosses into the stalk of the sprouts?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018So that they roast perfectly,\u2019 replied George.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018But what difference does it make?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was silence among the Honourable and Worthy Pedallers. In the rafters of the enormous station, a pigeon fluttered its wings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ezekiel Graves came to his senses first. \u2018Dicky \u2013 does he look like Mrs Beeton?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018How would I know?\u2019 said Dicky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018You were saying, George\u2026.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Ah, yes. Well, Mrs Collier is with her brother\u2019s family in Tipton, it being Christmas; Tristan is out on his new bike \u2013 a future pedaller, no doubt \u2013 and father is entertaining Uncle Lawrence in the drawing room.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Is that his uncle or your uncle?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Christ, Dicky: does it matter?\u2019 said Ezekiel Graves, immediately turning to George, \u2018This Arcadian mise-en-scene you\u2019re putting together has a purpose of some kind, presumably\u2026?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Well, y-yes. There\u2019s nobody free to relay messages to anybody else\u2019s mother, I\u2019m afraid.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Are you sure there isn\u2019t a stray gardener or valet hanging around below stairs? Maybe a lady-in-waiting at the bus stop?\u2019 asked Ezekiel sardonically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
‘Mummy was quite adamant…’<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Quite sure,\u2019 said George blankly, \u2018The gardener doesn\u2019t live in. I left Gonby\u2019s address anyway, in case something changed, but Mummy was quite adamant there could be no interference with the Christmas agenda. She does tend to run a very tight ship.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Well,\u2019 I said, grinding my Woodbine into the floor, \u2018I suppose we might as well saddle up. We\u2019ve got a long night ahead.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Ar,\u2019 said Jack Dudley, and we all thought immediately of his Margaret, \u2018And a long bloody Boxing Day.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Return journeys with the Pedallers could be rather tiring affairs, but, though we were all rather miserable about missing Christmas dinner, the melancholy was balanced by a sense of anticipation, being as we were playing the following day. It was almost like another away trip, and we sang to keep our spirits up:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
UNTIL OUR WHEELS REACH THE GROUND\n \n Go we east or west\n Or north or south\n Or any combination thereof\n We will reach our destination\n Without any hesitation\n Whatever distance is involved, because\u2026\n \n REFRAIN:\n A pedaller\u2019s a pedaller\u2019s a pedaller\u2019s a pedaller -- \n He pedals and his wheels go round.\n A wanderer\u2019s a wanderer and he will not stop his wandering\n Until his wheels reach the ground\n Today that ground is Molineux in Whitmore Reans\n But be it anywhere from Aberdeen to Rome\n We will pedal there, drink beer there, cheer there and sing \n And then we\u2019ll saddle up and ride back home! <\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\nWith only incandescent bulbs and the tips of our cigarettes to light our way, we pedalled on south through Cheshire. Though the winter was mild, we began to freeze in the early hours, and alighted our vehicles on a piece of common land near Nantwich to gather fuel for a bonfire. Spirits lowered and the mood was sombre as the flames caught; the look in the eyes of those around the fire spoke of loss and longing for home. It was the plaintive tenor of George Forge that began the song that, though rarely heard due to the generally upbeat character of the Honourable and Worthy Pedallers, was known by heart by every rider in the group.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
SONG TO WULFRUN ('TO HEAR THAT WHISTLE BLOW\u2019)\n \n Our wheels have come such a long, long way\n And they yet have a way to go.\n Our hands have gripped their handlebars for more than a day\n And our prostates suffered terrible blows.\n And now we are alone in the still of the night\n In a place without a name\n And our journey has been made for the mere sight\n Of a simple football game.\n\n REFRAIN:\n Am I a fool, Lady Wulfrun, to travel so far from thee?\n So far from the Ball, the Fox and the Stile and the bosom of my family?\n Am I a fool, Lady Wulfrun, to push my bike through snow\n And rain and fog and winds just to hear that whistle blow?\n Just to hear that whistle blow\u2026\n Just to hear that whistle blow\u2026 <\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\nAs we harmonized the minor seventh on the refrain I began to make out the sound of a motor, pitched somewhere between Jack Dudley\u2019s strident baritone and Ezekiel\u2019s booming bass. It was the first engine I\u2019d heard in perhaps an hour, and it grew continuously louder until a pair of headlights appeared around a bend south of where our fire roared. They belonged to a lorry, which slowed as it approached us, coming to rest with the motor idling. There was a pause before a tall man descended from the cab and walked towards us with erect posture. The face was illuminated by the glow of a churchwarden pipe, but I didn\u2019t recognize it. When it got to within ten yards of us, however, a tenor voice cried over my shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Uncle Lawrence!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Thought it must be you!\u2019 came the reply from the man, whose face was was finely-featured, with an aquiline nose and a thin moustache.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018What are you doing here?\u2019 asked George.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Well, your mother let it slip that you would be delayed, and I had a driver arriving at the depot that evening. I decided it wouldn\u2019t hurt to take the wagon around to Gonby\u2019s and get some more addresses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018You\u2019ve been to our houses?\u2019 asked Ezekiel, with trepidation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Indeed I have. And I\u2019ve not come empty handed.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We followed him to the cargo doors of the wagon. Inside were some fifty oval packages of silver foil, with names written on them in felt tip, to the left fifty smaller, more circular-shaped packages, to the front of them an assortment of gravy boats, thermos flasks, measuring jugs and serving jugs, also labelled (and covered where necessary), and at the back a large cardboard box marked \u2018Silver and Cruet\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Right,\u2019 said Uncle Lawrence, taking the first of the oval packages, \u2018Which one of you is Dicky Toolan?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Margaret Dudley had been sour to say the least…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When all the plates had been distributed, and the correct gravy added to the correct parts of each, we sat by the fire and tucked into our Christmas dinners. Uncle Lawrence indulged George with idyllic tales from Tettenhall, before giving generous appraisals of the comings and goings and Christmas scenes he\u2019d encountered at each house he\u2019d visited (Margaret Dudley had been sour to say the least, but Dicky Toolan\u2019s mum had sent along an extra portion to compensate). Pudding was served, along with a warming brandy, before we loaded the dishes and then the bikes into the back of the van, climbed in and headed home to Wolverhampton. The food had been cold, and the gravy rather lumpy, but the occasion was one of the most joyful Christmas meals I\u2019d ever had, though if we\u2019re honest it had fallen well after the midnight chimes had struck in all the pretty villages of Cheshire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All in all, a memorable day out with the Pedallers, and better was to come that very afternoon as a United side bloated with turkey and overconfidence met with a seven-nil drubbing at the hands of the Major\u2019s mighty Wanderers. With the best goal average in the league we would go top if we could win our game in hand on Leeds; it felt as though 1932 really could be the year we returned to the First Division, after a long, cold quarter of a century.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
To lose at Old Trafford could be considered unfortunate; to ruin Christmas dinner looks like carelessness.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":764,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[38,72,81,109],"class_list":["post-762","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-christmas","tag-margaret-dudley","tag-old-trafford","tag-turkey"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/762","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=762"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/762\/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=762"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=762"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=762"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}