80s, 80s, What's The Score?

"I wonder what the latest score is in the Old Firm derby", I thought to myself during walk number 321 of lockdown. About twenty seconds later I had my answer. Reaching for my phone, a few thumb presses gave me all the information I needed. I could have even checked in on the results from the National Division of Luxembourg if I was that way inclined.

It struck me that I now take this kind of thing for granted. Because there was a time in the distant past that discovering the latest score in a sporting fixture was not quite as simple as this. Never mind look away now if you don't want to know the score. In the 1980s, doing the opposite was sometimes a long and drawn out affair.

At the shops

You knew why most of the grown-ups stood next to you in John Lewis or Currys were all staring at the same television model. Saturday shopping trips were a painful experience, but a visit to an electrical store at least handed you an opportunity to catch a glimpse of the football, cricket, rugby, or tennis scores.

Often you would have to hang around for a while to work out what was going on. On-screen scoreboards would be years away, so you would have to loiter to discover that England were 99/5 in the latest Test. Sales assistants must have been sick and tired of asking if anyone wanted any help, only to be met with the same response every time.

Teletext helped. You could get a quick snapshot of the scores from Division One and be on your way. Although one November day in 1983, I stood open-mouthed as I saw that my team, Arsenal, were 3-0 down at Leicester, and I froze in horror. Maybe being in the dark was the better option after all.

Radio 2

In the car or at home, Radio 2 was the station that got me through a large chunk of my sporting childhood. With superb commentators such as Bryon Butler and Peter Jones providing a soundtrack to my early football years, it's hard not to look back and feel privileged to have been in the capable hands of legends.

The memories remain. Commentary on the second half on one of the key matches of the day; one commentator handing over to another halfway through the second half; welcoming World Service listeners; the Sport on 2 and Sports Report theme tunes; the familiar voice of co-commentator Jimmy Armfield; James Alexander Gordon reading out the results. Spoilt rotten, I was.

Football latest

Such a simple concept. During Grandstand you would often watch the sporting action, waiting in anticipation for your screen to flicker and the main picture to shrink into a smaller box. Then the words "FOOTBALL LATEST" would appear, and you would hold your breath.

 

 

When football was not fashionable this was one way of keeping an eye on the scores from up and down the country. Not quite Gillette Soccer Saturday; more like a primitive goal alerts app that popped up notifications on your television as Ray French screamed about Ellery Hanley.

Final score and the Vidiprinter

This was a little more like what we see today. As the football action was nearing a conclusion, up popped the Vidiprinter, making the noise of a wasp trapped in a jar, bringing us the final scores. You usually knew the latest score of the matches that interested you, but occasionally there would be a surprise as the results appeared on screen. Every now and again the word (SEVEN) would bring a flutter of excitement (simpler times).

 

 

Once all the scores were in it was time for the classified football results read by Len Martin, and if we were visiting our relatives then we would have to remain silent during the Pool News section; I'm not sure if either of my grandads ever won the pools?

Then it would be on to a look at the league tables with Bruce Hornsby and the Range playing in the background - I'm sure Crockett's Theme from Miami Vice was also used for a period - and even now hearing that music takes me back to a happy place. Apologies for all nostalgia; but that's just the way it is. Some things will never change.

Teletext

We didn't have a television set with teletext included until 1990 (put the violins down). But once we did, this was a game changer. Spending hours on end staring at pages, hoping they would change in your favour, may sound like a waste of time. But what a service this provided; although I didn't think this the day I entered 341 on the BBC Ceefax pages and saw that England had slumped to 27/6 at Port of Spain. 

Saturdays with teletext were heaven. A bit like having the internet on television, you could be your own Jeff Stelling from the comfort of the settee, without the oohs and the aahs thrown in as background noise. Maybe I will look back on my life one day and wonder why I spent roughly 3.27% of my life on the pages of Ceefax and Oracle. I guess it was a better hobby than glue-sniffing.

In the ground

There was a time when a football supporter entering a ground would find out half time scores via boards displaying letters corresponding to an entry in the matchday programme. But by the start of the 1980s this system was slowly disappearing. Scores would be read out on the PA system, yet for up to the minute updates the transistor was king.

The famous Aston Villa trip to Highbury in May 1981 is one example of supporters relaying latest scores via their radios; roars from the Villa end highlighted the plight of Ipswich and led to the term "transistor championship" being coined. Celtic fans at St Mirren in May 1986 started another party on the back of good news filtering through the terraces.

It could sometimes backfire. In 1986, West Ham's players may have been forgiven for thinking their title hopes were still alive, when they heard their fans celebrating at the Hawthorns. But news of a Liverpool slip-up at Stamford Bridge was incorrect, as Kenny Dalglish's winner burst the Hammers' bubbles.

Technological advances

Even as late as 1995 I was using a phoneline - not that sort - to find out how England could save the second Test against South Africa at Johannesburg. On my university work placement, and in the last days of life before the internet, I phoned at lunch, tea and close of play to find out that Michael Atherton and Jack Russell had indeed pulled off the great escape. I wanted to call the line more than that, but I was scared of financially crippling my employer due to huge phone bills.

By the start of the new century, mobile phones were ready to change the way of life as we knew it. I recall signing up to a text alert service for Arsenal, receiving a text message every time a goal was scored in a match. The problem was that the service charged per text. After Arsenal defeated Middlesbrough 4-1 in 2004, I knocked this on the head.

I make no apologies for wallowing in the past in this blog. But even I recognise that modern technology makes life so much easier for a sports fanatic who wants to keep their finger on the pulse. I'm not sure if it a blessing or a curse though when my phone is pinging relentlessly during an England batting collapse. Many a good walk spoiled; I can tell you.