The eight-year-old Gary Roe has just watched his first Forest match and now he’s hooked. His granddad is taking him to the City Ground once again with the promise of seeing the greatest player of the era in action…

The journey home seemed a long one, we had to catch two buses; how did Granddad know which ones? There were so many at the bus station called Huntingdon Street. I had been here before a time or two with my mam when we went to my other Granddads in Martin Street, St Annes, but there were never this many people about.

It was a pretty chilly day but I can’t say I was cold after watching the Forest, I was hooked. On the bus home I studied the programme, the positions, the players, the fixtures and so on. Here I start my football education. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends at school because some of them had already been to watch Forest, or ‘The Reds’ as my Granddad referred to them. There were lots of matches in a season and the league table was in there as well. We aren’t near the top though, but then again we are not bottom!

At home filling my mam and dad with all my new experiences. Mam talked about getting me a red and white scarf and hat or even a rattle. I saw lots wearing red and white scarves to represent Forest and some with bobble hats. There were even on or two with what was known as a rosette; I’d have thought it was a woman’s thing but I saw men wearing them with pride. I heard the clatter of what was known as a rattle. A rattle was a wooden thing that you whirled around and it made a sound like a sucker stick on your bicycle spokes (only ten times louder). There weren’t many of these rattles but the ones I saw being rattled were painted red and white. I thought it was a right peculiar object but I wanted one. I plagued my dad to let me go again to another match and he said: “We’ll see”.

Soon came Christmas and quite a few of my presents were to do with football. I got my scarf and hat as well as a magnetic table football game. I played all Christmas with my dad or my pals at magnetic football. This game was an advancement on blow football (its predecessor). I would wear my hat and scarf while playing and always chose the red team. Playing out of my skin for the Reds to win, the clash of sticks and magnets may be heard over the imitation crowd noises as the goals went in.

Around Annesley a lot of bigger lads had seen Forest and they all swapped stories; I could listen in now, I knew what they were on about. I knew a player named Stanley Matthews was revered by all and he played at the time for Stoke City another first division team. I ran up to my Granddads house and told him about Stanley Matthews but he had already got that sorted out; I was to go to the Stoke match.

The same procedure as we went down again to the City Ground. I was learning about other teams as well with my football annual I had for Christmas. Stoke were nicknamed the Potters and played at the Victoria Ground and they wore red and white stripes, white shorts and red and white stockings, the same stockings as us.

I later found out the importance of this match. Stanley Matthews. Although he wasn’t even a Forest player my Granddad held him high esteem. I had seen pictures of this player in old fashioned long length shorts and shirts with collars on!

I asked my dad and one or two more folk who lived in the Rows (Annesley Rows) and everyone knew about Matthews and enhanced it with ‘Wizard of the Dribble’. I knew what dribbling a ball was because my dad would tease me with the ball when we were on the beach, everyone wanted to be a good dribbler. But sayings like “Turn on a Tanner” and “Put it on a postage stamp” were introduced to my diction.

Earlier on my mam bought me a red and white Forest scarf from Hucknall Army Stores. They had black and white too for the Notts County fans. I wore the woollen red and white with pride all week and even to bed, then next match I was to be part of it now, what a present! And that was after Christmas!

Saturday soon came round and I was up bright and early for a winters morning, already kicking a ball at the coal house door, then onto the little roof (kitchen roof) to head into the make believe goals; which were the coal house and toilet doors together. I got told off because there were windows nearby, but I couldn’t go up the gardens in case I got dirty. My mam had this thing about every time I went out I should be clean and wear clean clothes. What was up with my scruffs? I was more comfortable with them on.

Well it was time for the match, me and my Granddad had to catch two buses again but soon I saw the giant floodlights and the crowd grew as we walked over Trent Bridge again. I marched along as if I was part of an army and the scarf was my uniform.

Usual procedure, get in the ground early, get to the front and soak up the atmosphere. The players often would make an appearance fully clothed and I wasn’t sure who was who. Well they ought to have had numbers on the back of their suit jackets, don’t you think?

Well there was a cheer from the growing crowd and the man himself, Stanley Matthews was on the pitch. He waved all around the ground and I still didn’t recognise him as the baggy shorted player in my football books, but I wasn’t going to dispute it. Then my granddad told me Matthew’s wasn’t going to play, he was on the injury list. That dreaded injury list has come back again. I overheard someone say: “The ground’s too hard”. I thought it looked pretty good with all this grass, we played on half sand-half grass at home.

I studied the matchday programme again and could almost recite the Forest team without looking at the programme. I don’t recall any incidents during the game as it finished 0-0. I only hoped they could have made the next goal the winner, same as us when we played; there were never any draws down Annesley.

• Forest Chronicles – Uncle Tom’s two bob

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