Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2004 17:33:26 GMT
In September 1980, the Panthers returned. I came down to the first game and found my first hockey hero, Dave Randall.
Randall was the perfect embodiment of my idea of a hockey goalie. He was old: I don't think anyone knew his actual age, but he was a contemporary of another veteran goalie he was often to face during the season, Streatham's 47 year old Glynn Thomas.
He was large: when he stood in the goal, with his unfeasibly large pads, forwards had little left to aim at. This was just as well, as he boasted the mobility of a supertanker, which accounted for the unforgettable occasion when the opposition - I can't remember who it was - launched a fast attack. As they chased the puck over the red line, there was our hero, lumbering out of goal as if in slow motion, before terminally smothering the puck under his ample frame. On all the occasions I saw him play, this was the only time I recall him wandering more than a foot out of his crease.
Another unusual aspect was his shirt. He wore number 2. In those days, goalies wore 1, 15 or 30, but not Randall - he nabbed a defender's jersey. I won one of his shirts in a competition: it's like a tent, and is one of my proudest possessions.
Perhaps the most memorable feature of his make-up was that he didn't wear a helmet. He relied on an old fashioned fibreglass facemask with holes for the eyes and mouth. This gave him a ghoulish appearance, and on the overall package, looked far too small to be of any use. Through the elastic straps which held it on stuck tufts of his copious black hair which looked suspiciously Brylcreemed.
The final ingredient in the Randall enigma was his lack of words. In his one-and-a-bit seasons here, I never spoke with him, and never read so much as a sentence of his quotes in the press. To this day, I know nothing about the man.
For a goalie I remember so well, it is surprising to note that in League and Cup games, he played just 1030 minutes, or just over 17 matches. In those days, the League season only consisted of 16 games, with another 10 in the Southern Cup. There were no matches played north of Altrincham, so most of his action came in challenge matches.
He helped the new Panthers consolidate, and helped the young Chris Keward progress. When Tim Ingram switched from wing to goal (has any other player done that, I ask myself) and performed with distinction, Randall shared the back-up duties with Keward. He returned in 1981/2 as Panthers took the then big step into the English National League, and competition with the north-eastern sides. But after their first game against Durham, Wasps' star goalie Frank Killen decided he liked the Nottingham atmosphere and moved south to form a strong pairing with Chris Keward.
The records show that Dave Randall last iced for Panthers on 31 October 1981, in a 31-2 (yes, really)victory over Southampton: he last dressed on 14 November 1981 against Billingham. It wasn't unusual for players to leave mid-season in those days, and departures were normally marked with post-game presentations in front of the crowd. But enigmatic to the end, Randall went on his own terms, and, erm, well, sort of faded away.....
Randall was the perfect embodiment of my idea of a hockey goalie. He was old: I don't think anyone knew his actual age, but he was a contemporary of another veteran goalie he was often to face during the season, Streatham's 47 year old Glynn Thomas.
He was large: when he stood in the goal, with his unfeasibly large pads, forwards had little left to aim at. This was just as well, as he boasted the mobility of a supertanker, which accounted for the unforgettable occasion when the opposition - I can't remember who it was - launched a fast attack. As they chased the puck over the red line, there was our hero, lumbering out of goal as if in slow motion, before terminally smothering the puck under his ample frame. On all the occasions I saw him play, this was the only time I recall him wandering more than a foot out of his crease.
Another unusual aspect was his shirt. He wore number 2. In those days, goalies wore 1, 15 or 30, but not Randall - he nabbed a defender's jersey. I won one of his shirts in a competition: it's like a tent, and is one of my proudest possessions.
Perhaps the most memorable feature of his make-up was that he didn't wear a helmet. He relied on an old fashioned fibreglass facemask with holes for the eyes and mouth. This gave him a ghoulish appearance, and on the overall package, looked far too small to be of any use. Through the elastic straps which held it on stuck tufts of his copious black hair which looked suspiciously Brylcreemed.
The final ingredient in the Randall enigma was his lack of words. In his one-and-a-bit seasons here, I never spoke with him, and never read so much as a sentence of his quotes in the press. To this day, I know nothing about the man.
For a goalie I remember so well, it is surprising to note that in League and Cup games, he played just 1030 minutes, or just over 17 matches. In those days, the League season only consisted of 16 games, with another 10 in the Southern Cup. There were no matches played north of Altrincham, so most of his action came in challenge matches.
He helped the new Panthers consolidate, and helped the young Chris Keward progress. When Tim Ingram switched from wing to goal (has any other player done that, I ask myself) and performed with distinction, Randall shared the back-up duties with Keward. He returned in 1981/2 as Panthers took the then big step into the English National League, and competition with the north-eastern sides. But after their first game against Durham, Wasps' star goalie Frank Killen decided he liked the Nottingham atmosphere and moved south to form a strong pairing with Chris Keward.
The records show that Dave Randall last iced for Panthers on 31 October 1981, in a 31-2 (yes, really)victory over Southampton: he last dressed on 14 November 1981 against Billingham. It wasn't unusual for players to leave mid-season in those days, and departures were normally marked with post-game presentations in front of the crowd. But enigmatic to the end, Randall went on his own terms, and, erm, well, sort of faded away.....
