Post by Dave on Sept 18, 2009 18:29:37 GMT
Jon posted in the week
“Some brilliant stuff on this thread with extracts from Budleigh's famous scrapbook and colour added to the picture by Merse's first-hand knowledge of the times. Forums don't get much better than this, do they?”
Unknown to Jon, those words played such a big part in me deciding I had to lose the anger, also the feelings of disgust, deep hurt and more importantly the feeling of being on the outside, that were caused by selfish actions by people who I believed were friends and work colleagues.
The words did have an added bonus anyway as they came from Jon, a man I hold in high regard and have the greatest respect for. When I first set this forum up, Jon was unsure that I should have done so; he felt the existence of the TFF would just split the fans of the club in two different places.
But because of how the forum is run, it has attracted a very high calibre of membership, members who have put so much into the forum and made it the quality forum it is. For me it has become a place I can come too and know that I will be with friends and people who share not only my love of TUFC, but many of the values I hold so dear to me. It has proved to me that I did do the right thing setting it up and for the right reasons.
Treat others as you want to be treated yourself, well that’s what I have always believed and practiced but sadly in life there will be people who don’t hold that view and end up causing you pain, or harm, but you must never let their actions change who you are, or the person you want to be.
I asked Pete in the week, why? why did it happen, why was I treated the way I was, yes I sometimes talk to much and may get on your nerves with my constant talk, but have I ever done anything to you, harmed you in anyway, been nasty to you or ever been rude or offensive? The answer came back “NO” but then maybe I already knew the answer and that it was not down to who I am, or anything I have done only the selfish actions of one person, who then due to his position controlled the others.
He is away for a few weeks and being the man I am, I have put this behind me with the others I work with and made a real effort to make them feel better and forgiven. What is life if we can’t forgive can’t move on, I can tell you it will be a life just full of bitterness and that will only eat you away in the end.
I smile when I think about the words Merse used a while ago, Dave R wants to live in his Mary Poppins world, well its true and why would I not want my life to have happiness in it, have the happy endings I crave for, its far better than spending to much time thinking about all the real bad that is in the world we live.
That’s not to say I’m not aware of what goes on around me, or that I tell myself the world is perfect and full of love, but I will always try to play my part to fill it with all the love and happiness and laughter I have to give, even at the very big risk, of someone causing me pain or grief.
This week’s winner is a mighty fine man and is now a 100% TFFer, he has won the award before and I’m so pleased after all the work he has put into the forum this week, that he has won it again.
I’m also glad he won it, as now I don’t have to hand over the forum to alpinejoe, if that had happened, you can bet the forum would have had a bring back Steve Woods campaign running on it by now.
This weeks winner is budleighgull well done and fully deserved
Leigh’s main post that won him the ward was I have a mistress; I will just post the link to that post due to all the photos etc on it, but will put up his opening post
torquayfansforum.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=groundreviews&action=display&thread=2839&page=1
I have a mistress!
There. I’ve finally ‘come out’ and announced it…
I only get to see her on the occasional weekend, or the odd weekday night, and nearly only when I’m up ‘in-town’. But now I feel the need to get it out in the open because for the first time in some years she’s going to come down to Devon, and we shall be spending a few, hopefully, blissful hours together. As to be expected from a mistress she always wears something red when I visit, but there are times, especially if we meet away from her area, when she’ll put on something of a different hue. I like this, it adds ‘spice’ to the relationship.
We first met when I lived in London back in the early eighties. She was down on her luck, indeed at the time she had lost her home and was living in rented digs, and I took pity on her. To be honest our first meeting was quite romantic and at first, and by chance, had more to do with her former residence.
I have to confess that on taking a position in London, and spending the first year in Chiswick before moving ‘south-of-the-river’, I had barely given a thought to the gentle, quiet sweetheart I’d left behind in Devon. Indeed having got caught up in the ‘London whirl’ I barely came back to see her, just having the occasional meeting when she visited my part of the world. Was it this distance from my first love that led me to wander?
As it was, one Sunday morning I took a drive to familiarise myself with my new south London surroundings and, coming over a hill near Blackheath Common, I saw this derelict place. I was intrigued, it just seemed so familiar in the same way that déjà-vu can quite suddenly shoot into one’s sub-conscious, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I had an hour or two to spare before I was due for lunch at a friend’s place so parked my car and walked up to the pair of wrought iron gates, reminiscent of those seen guarding the mansion in the Addams Family, and peered through. The paint on the brick walls was faded and peeling, the building inside boarded up and the grass overgrown, with weeds pushing through the concrete path. I’d always had a fascination for anything old and derelict and so seeing a gap in the fence, slid through. I was sure there would be nobody about as the place had an air of complete desolation.
But I was wrong. As I looked through the cracked glass of a partially bordered up window I heard a voice close by, ‘You shouldn’t be here, this is my home, my place. I couldn’t afford to stay so they threw me out. No consideration for the family history. None at all. I rarely come back, it’s too depressing’.
For a moment I stood transfixed, the gentle voice echoing around my head, then slowly moved to were it had come from. I turned a corner and leant forward onto the rusting fence that surrounded the vast, overgrown garden, and was immediately smitten but what now stood in front of me. I stayed for some time, just making my acquaintance, before reluctantly I bade farewell and returned to my car.
I spent the rest of the day in some excitement, barely able to hide this feeling creeping about inside as I sat at the lunch table, those around me talking what sounded like complete gibberish, my mind elsewhere, back at that mornings encounter. I knew I had to persue the matter so as soon as it was respectively possible I excused myself from the table and went into my friend’s study where I sought out a local directory. There I found what I was seeking, her new address and details.
The following morning it was with some trepidation I made the phone call and renewed my acquaintance from the previous day and before I knew it had arranged to meet the following weekend at her new home some miles away…
Yes, I’d booked a ticket at Selhurst Park for Charlton Athletic against Newcastle…..
Another post made by Leigh
My godson and nephew James was born in 1988 to my rugby-loving sister and her husband. As such he only touched on football as an interest in his primary school years and reluctantly took Arsenal as his team 'as I have to support someone, everyone else does at school'.
I then spent the next two years of his early life trying to convince him that football really was a proper sport and that Torquay United, being his local side, were the team to support. It was hard work, against all odds, but finally in late October 1995, aged seven, I picked him up in the car and, with mounting excitement on his part, to Torquay we drove. The reality of actually watching a live game, in front of a proper crowd spurred his new enthusiasm and I spent the whole journey explaining who the players were, where we would stand, what he could and couldn't shout out. He even wore my yellow and blue woolen scarf.
As each goal against us hit the back of the net I squirmed a little more, not because of the performance, but because I could see his reaction. His face said it all, indeed at one point the disappointment writ across it matched those of the other attendees of the popular side and for a fleeting moment I thought he also felt our pain. How disillusioned I was! All he felt was acute sorrow that I should find this 'entertainment & enjoyment?'. I leant over as the sixth goal went in and tried to reassure him it wasn't always like this, he shrugged his shoulders in that 'what do I care?' attitude. I said nothing for goals seven and eight.
Driving back afterwards I tried to find something positive to reap from the proceedings so blurted out, 'well one thing, do you realise history was made today?'
'Yep', came his grinning reply, 'the first and last time I ever watch Torquay'!
This day has become part of folklore in our family, not for the match itself, but for the fact that we chose to lose in such a fashion on the one day I tried, after years of bullying, to introduce a new supporter...
(As a footnote, James went up to Oxford University to study and attended, with some friends, our 3-3 comeback game two seasons ago at the Kassam stadium. This ignited his interest somewhat, to the point that he now talks of Torquay games as 'we did this, we did that'... Then he visited Plainmoor for my stag-do last October (the famous Bananaman day) and after a view beers turned to me and exclaimed 'I think i'm cured!'.
“Some brilliant stuff on this thread with extracts from Budleigh's famous scrapbook and colour added to the picture by Merse's first-hand knowledge of the times. Forums don't get much better than this, do they?”
Unknown to Jon, those words played such a big part in me deciding I had to lose the anger, also the feelings of disgust, deep hurt and more importantly the feeling of being on the outside, that were caused by selfish actions by people who I believed were friends and work colleagues.
The words did have an added bonus anyway as they came from Jon, a man I hold in high regard and have the greatest respect for. When I first set this forum up, Jon was unsure that I should have done so; he felt the existence of the TFF would just split the fans of the club in two different places.
But because of how the forum is run, it has attracted a very high calibre of membership, members who have put so much into the forum and made it the quality forum it is. For me it has become a place I can come too and know that I will be with friends and people who share not only my love of TUFC, but many of the values I hold so dear to me. It has proved to me that I did do the right thing setting it up and for the right reasons.
Treat others as you want to be treated yourself, well that’s what I have always believed and practiced but sadly in life there will be people who don’t hold that view and end up causing you pain, or harm, but you must never let their actions change who you are, or the person you want to be.
I asked Pete in the week, why? why did it happen, why was I treated the way I was, yes I sometimes talk to much and may get on your nerves with my constant talk, but have I ever done anything to you, harmed you in anyway, been nasty to you or ever been rude or offensive? The answer came back “NO” but then maybe I already knew the answer and that it was not down to who I am, or anything I have done only the selfish actions of one person, who then due to his position controlled the others.
He is away for a few weeks and being the man I am, I have put this behind me with the others I work with and made a real effort to make them feel better and forgiven. What is life if we can’t forgive can’t move on, I can tell you it will be a life just full of bitterness and that will only eat you away in the end.
I smile when I think about the words Merse used a while ago, Dave R wants to live in his Mary Poppins world, well its true and why would I not want my life to have happiness in it, have the happy endings I crave for, its far better than spending to much time thinking about all the real bad that is in the world we live.
That’s not to say I’m not aware of what goes on around me, or that I tell myself the world is perfect and full of love, but I will always try to play my part to fill it with all the love and happiness and laughter I have to give, even at the very big risk, of someone causing me pain or grief.
This week’s winner is a mighty fine man and is now a 100% TFFer, he has won the award before and I’m so pleased after all the work he has put into the forum this week, that he has won it again.
I’m also glad he won it, as now I don’t have to hand over the forum to alpinejoe, if that had happened, you can bet the forum would have had a bring back Steve Woods campaign running on it by now.
This weeks winner is budleighgull well done and fully deserved
Leigh’s main post that won him the ward was I have a mistress; I will just post the link to that post due to all the photos etc on it, but will put up his opening post
torquayfansforum.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=groundreviews&action=display&thread=2839&page=1
I have a mistress!
There. I’ve finally ‘come out’ and announced it…
I only get to see her on the occasional weekend, or the odd weekday night, and nearly only when I’m up ‘in-town’. But now I feel the need to get it out in the open because for the first time in some years she’s going to come down to Devon, and we shall be spending a few, hopefully, blissful hours together. As to be expected from a mistress she always wears something red when I visit, but there are times, especially if we meet away from her area, when she’ll put on something of a different hue. I like this, it adds ‘spice’ to the relationship.
We first met when I lived in London back in the early eighties. She was down on her luck, indeed at the time she had lost her home and was living in rented digs, and I took pity on her. To be honest our first meeting was quite romantic and at first, and by chance, had more to do with her former residence.
I have to confess that on taking a position in London, and spending the first year in Chiswick before moving ‘south-of-the-river’, I had barely given a thought to the gentle, quiet sweetheart I’d left behind in Devon. Indeed having got caught up in the ‘London whirl’ I barely came back to see her, just having the occasional meeting when she visited my part of the world. Was it this distance from my first love that led me to wander?
As it was, one Sunday morning I took a drive to familiarise myself with my new south London surroundings and, coming over a hill near Blackheath Common, I saw this derelict place. I was intrigued, it just seemed so familiar in the same way that déjà-vu can quite suddenly shoot into one’s sub-conscious, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I had an hour or two to spare before I was due for lunch at a friend’s place so parked my car and walked up to the pair of wrought iron gates, reminiscent of those seen guarding the mansion in the Addams Family, and peered through. The paint on the brick walls was faded and peeling, the building inside boarded up and the grass overgrown, with weeds pushing through the concrete path. I’d always had a fascination for anything old and derelict and so seeing a gap in the fence, slid through. I was sure there would be nobody about as the place had an air of complete desolation.
But I was wrong. As I looked through the cracked glass of a partially bordered up window I heard a voice close by, ‘You shouldn’t be here, this is my home, my place. I couldn’t afford to stay so they threw me out. No consideration for the family history. None at all. I rarely come back, it’s too depressing’.
For a moment I stood transfixed, the gentle voice echoing around my head, then slowly moved to were it had come from. I turned a corner and leant forward onto the rusting fence that surrounded the vast, overgrown garden, and was immediately smitten but what now stood in front of me. I stayed for some time, just making my acquaintance, before reluctantly I bade farewell and returned to my car.
I spent the rest of the day in some excitement, barely able to hide this feeling creeping about inside as I sat at the lunch table, those around me talking what sounded like complete gibberish, my mind elsewhere, back at that mornings encounter. I knew I had to persue the matter so as soon as it was respectively possible I excused myself from the table and went into my friend’s study where I sought out a local directory. There I found what I was seeking, her new address and details.
The following morning it was with some trepidation I made the phone call and renewed my acquaintance from the previous day and before I knew it had arranged to meet the following weekend at her new home some miles away…
Yes, I’d booked a ticket at Selhurst Park for Charlton Athletic against Newcastle…..
Another post made by Leigh
My godson and nephew James was born in 1988 to my rugby-loving sister and her husband. As such he only touched on football as an interest in his primary school years and reluctantly took Arsenal as his team 'as I have to support someone, everyone else does at school'.
I then spent the next two years of his early life trying to convince him that football really was a proper sport and that Torquay United, being his local side, were the team to support. It was hard work, against all odds, but finally in late October 1995, aged seven, I picked him up in the car and, with mounting excitement on his part, to Torquay we drove. The reality of actually watching a live game, in front of a proper crowd spurred his new enthusiasm and I spent the whole journey explaining who the players were, where we would stand, what he could and couldn't shout out. He even wore my yellow and blue woolen scarf.
As each goal against us hit the back of the net I squirmed a little more, not because of the performance, but because I could see his reaction. His face said it all, indeed at one point the disappointment writ across it matched those of the other attendees of the popular side and for a fleeting moment I thought he also felt our pain. How disillusioned I was! All he felt was acute sorrow that I should find this 'entertainment & enjoyment?'. I leant over as the sixth goal went in and tried to reassure him it wasn't always like this, he shrugged his shoulders in that 'what do I care?' attitude. I said nothing for goals seven and eight.
Driving back afterwards I tried to find something positive to reap from the proceedings so blurted out, 'well one thing, do you realise history was made today?'
'Yep', came his grinning reply, 'the first and last time I ever watch Torquay'!
This day has become part of folklore in our family, not for the match itself, but for the fact that we chose to lose in such a fashion on the one day I tried, after years of bullying, to introduce a new supporter...
(As a footnote, James went up to Oxford University to study and attended, with some friends, our 3-3 comeback game two seasons ago at the Kassam stadium. This ignited his interest somewhat, to the point that he now talks of Torquay games as 'we did this, we did that'... Then he visited Plainmoor for my stag-do last October (the famous Bananaman day) and after a view beers turned to me and exclaimed 'I think i'm cured!'.
;D Don`t hold back mate! 