Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2005 21:34:27 GMT
When Panthers reappeared on the hockey scene in 1980 we quickly built up a torrid (and for the most part one sided in their favour) rivalry with Streatham Redskins. Going down there for a game was quite an experience.
For a start you had to get across London. This was like a sightseeing tour of some of the most famous sights in the world, but at a very slow pace. Eventually you would wind your way over Streatham Hill to the High Road, and just past the bus shed was the rink.
It was one of the Mecca rinks that pervaded the country at the time. There was a very grouchy guy on the door who you didn’t argue with as he resembled Mike Tyson. Once you got in, quite a sight confronted you.
You approached the playing area at ice level behind one goal, an area where there were no seats. Above your head was a club. I can’t remember what it was called but it was full of palm trees and you could meet the players there after the game and pay extortionate prices for awful beer.
Down the side to your left were the team benches, either side of a huge disco console where the timekeepers sat. From the benches to each corner were four or five rows of seats, all with views of the ice obscured by the console. Above all this was a balcony with great views, but for home fans only.
At the opposite end from where you came in was a food outlet for the brave/foolhardy punter. On the right side of the rink downstairs were a few seats with a not very good view. Above them was another balcony with, I recollect, a bar halfway along performing the same function as the disco console on the other side, i.e restricting the view.
So, all in all a crap place to watch hockey. It held about 1200 but only about 400 of them had a good view. Despite this it was used for all the big events mainly because it was in London, had plexiglass (rare in those days) and what by the standards of the day was a highly advanced clock.
We went there year after year to see our team lose again and again. But on 29 November 1981 we made a memorable journey to watch Panthers play what was at that time a very powerful Redskins team in the English National League. Halfway through the game we were 5-2 down but somehow contrived to win 6-5. A great great night that gave us the double over our biggest rivals. But they still won the league and we were runners up.
We only won there once more in the next 4½ seasons before we went down on 30 March 1986 and in what was probably our biggest game of the new era pulled off a mighty 6-4 win (Crapper, 5 bullet-like goals) to get into the playoffs for the first time…..at Streatham’s expense. There were over 1800 people packed in that night, standing on the staircases and anywhere else for a view, and one of my most treasured possessions is a tape of Gary Moran’s manic commentary for Radio Trent.
That was the beginning of Streatham’s decline. We started to beat them regularly, games often degenerating into brawls, and three seasons later they were no more. The rink had by now become very tatty and eventually closed for ages for refurbishment. I’ve not been since but I see there is a Streatham team active again now, even featuring one of the players from that era, Peter Quiney.
When we went, we usually ended up next to the Panthers bench, which was ok. It also meant we had ringside seats the night we let in a couple of quick goals and it all got too much for our manager Gary Keward. He stormed down the bench and in front of everyone let coach Mike Urquhart know what he thought of his coaching. Mike quit on the spot, crossed the gangway to watch the rest of the game with us, and travelled home on our bus.
Other treasured memories include Henry doing a three point turn on Streatham High Road in a Silverdale coach, bringing a fair proportion of south London to a standstill in the process, and Gary Keward giving me 50p and asking me to go to the phone box outside to phone a match report through to Martin Johnson at Radio Trent. I also made several very good friends with Streatham fans: strong though our rivalry was, it was never bitter or hateful, which is how it should be.
Then there were the journeys home late on Sunday night through a deserted central London, all the sights floodlit and the streets empty......
For a start you had to get across London. This was like a sightseeing tour of some of the most famous sights in the world, but at a very slow pace. Eventually you would wind your way over Streatham Hill to the High Road, and just past the bus shed was the rink.
It was one of the Mecca rinks that pervaded the country at the time. There was a very grouchy guy on the door who you didn’t argue with as he resembled Mike Tyson. Once you got in, quite a sight confronted you.
You approached the playing area at ice level behind one goal, an area where there were no seats. Above your head was a club. I can’t remember what it was called but it was full of palm trees and you could meet the players there after the game and pay extortionate prices for awful beer.
Down the side to your left were the team benches, either side of a huge disco console where the timekeepers sat. From the benches to each corner were four or five rows of seats, all with views of the ice obscured by the console. Above all this was a balcony with great views, but for home fans only.
At the opposite end from where you came in was a food outlet for the brave/foolhardy punter. On the right side of the rink downstairs were a few seats with a not very good view. Above them was another balcony with, I recollect, a bar halfway along performing the same function as the disco console on the other side, i.e restricting the view.
So, all in all a crap place to watch hockey. It held about 1200 but only about 400 of them had a good view. Despite this it was used for all the big events mainly because it was in London, had plexiglass (rare in those days) and what by the standards of the day was a highly advanced clock.
We went there year after year to see our team lose again and again. But on 29 November 1981 we made a memorable journey to watch Panthers play what was at that time a very powerful Redskins team in the English National League. Halfway through the game we were 5-2 down but somehow contrived to win 6-5. A great great night that gave us the double over our biggest rivals. But they still won the league and we were runners up.
We only won there once more in the next 4½ seasons before we went down on 30 March 1986 and in what was probably our biggest game of the new era pulled off a mighty 6-4 win (Crapper, 5 bullet-like goals) to get into the playoffs for the first time…..at Streatham’s expense. There were over 1800 people packed in that night, standing on the staircases and anywhere else for a view, and one of my most treasured possessions is a tape of Gary Moran’s manic commentary for Radio Trent.
That was the beginning of Streatham’s decline. We started to beat them regularly, games often degenerating into brawls, and three seasons later they were no more. The rink had by now become very tatty and eventually closed for ages for refurbishment. I’ve not been since but I see there is a Streatham team active again now, even featuring one of the players from that era, Peter Quiney.
When we went, we usually ended up next to the Panthers bench, which was ok. It also meant we had ringside seats the night we let in a couple of quick goals and it all got too much for our manager Gary Keward. He stormed down the bench and in front of everyone let coach Mike Urquhart know what he thought of his coaching. Mike quit on the spot, crossed the gangway to watch the rest of the game with us, and travelled home on our bus.
Other treasured memories include Henry doing a three point turn on Streatham High Road in a Silverdale coach, bringing a fair proportion of south London to a standstill in the process, and Gary Keward giving me 50p and asking me to go to the phone box outside to phone a match report through to Martin Johnson at Radio Trent. I also made several very good friends with Streatham fans: strong though our rivalry was, it was never bitter or hateful, which is how it should be.
Then there were the journeys home late on Sunday night through a deserted central London, all the sights floodlit and the streets empty......
It is a pretty good desciption of what Durham was like & the same words could be used to describe Whitley ;D