Sir John PritchardA jovial smirk returns to my face, when I recall, mum and dad's attempts, to instill interest within me, toward a musical and religious regime. As with any rebelious young male, any such activity introduced (or as I thought, forced!!), was relatively quickly, detested!!! Weekly attendance at Sunday School and post school Friday piano lessons (to a pretty decent level), didn't fit with my active Gemini persona.
Important to point out at this stage, my father was and still is (at the ripe old age of 86), a passionate sportsman. His secret underlying hope for me, was to become a tennis player. I remember playing on the lawns at Devonshire Park Eastbourne, his eyes lighting up, when Lew Hoad, ex-professional of note, spotted us playing and came over to remark on my double handed technique!!! Perhaps Scottish perception toward the game, generic weather conditions and facilities available, at that period in time, failed to inspire me into taking up a more competitive, active interest.
Our family existence at this point, was tight, collective and functional. Alan and I were developing more of a brotherly rivalry, rather than bond I would say. My ultra competitive nature would dominate, across a spectrum of youthful activities. That said, we still thoroughly enjoyed our annual family trips south, after being introduced to our famous uncle, Sir John Pritchard, who was a globally renowned orchestral conductor. Alan and I "lived the dream" at his incredible mansion, in the Sussex countryside, over several Summers. Vast expanses of lawn to play on, a tennis court for dad to show off in and, an outdoor swimming pool, for all of us to create memories within!!! Superb memories. Visits here however, were tinged with an element of dread. Normal practice would result in requests from my uncle, to run through my repertoire on his Steinway piano. Rather daunting for 12 year old young man.
Continued evidence of our difference in interest, Alan seemed far more settled at school (based on his focus and results, I was so wrong to take this for granted however), I, found school a necessary evil, finding it a drain on my hyperactive mind and patience. In no way was I lacking in intellect, my style was more geared toward, interacting with fellow classmates and, being accepted. In keeping with traditional family heritage, both Alan and I found a talent for artistic tendencies, my grandfather blueprinted and draughted World War 1 plane designs. I was the son, who took part in three legged, egg & spoon, relay and sack races, during school sports days, Alan would have never considered this.
Comparing today's politically correct, educational practices, to my own experiences, over the period of 1971-76, I am passionately of the opinion, that it was of major benefit to us, that respect for tutors, was created, through a sense of fear. Recollections of 2 teachers in particular, Mr Lehman and Mr Graham, both history teachers, were both famous for their aggressive, forceful mode of education. Of course, corporal punishment (which was still practised then) was a successful deterrent too, yours truly on the receiving end of red hands, struck with apparent relish, by an assortment of teachers. I was not trouble maker though.
Perhaps when it came to official exams ie called O levels in Scotland, I was slightly unlucky, contracting chickenpox, amidst exams. To be fair, this episode, probably summed up my high school career. Infectious, but not serious enough to become committed!!!
Meanwhile, I was developing a passion for sport, a combination of football, played mainly at our local church youth club, then sneaking upstairs on a Saturday night, to play with adults at the badminton Club. I had taken to the game, in a big way, starting off at the age of 12, competing in Glasgow youth and church matches/ competitions. In addition, I was taken under the wing of a Coach called Bill McIroy, who had a number of aspiring kids in his stable. I improved and progressed quickly, drilling my technique. A combination of this and my determination to succeed, took me to the Scottish Schools Championship, in Perth, which is a very fond memory. Dad drove me North, stopping in for a brief moment, to take in scenic climbs. A complete fledgling in terms of the overall tournament entry, I and my partner came from nowhere, to win, beating established school Internationals en route. A complete shock, I was a new kid on the block, guess I had nothing to fear and my competitive instinct carried me through.
Now I was fully focused and active in an event that captured and inspired my brain. This was the start of life as I knew it then, badminton became my passion. Little did I know (I found out, some 30 years later) that my brother, had been enduring, protracted and sustained bullying, whilst we were both at school. As we rarely saw each other during school hours, shared little interest too, I was totally unaware of this fact. Alan was a chubby at best, going into puberty, this being and easy topic for his tormentors. Then, when he grew, abuse continued. His physical metamorphosis, staggering, going from a rounded kid, to a lanky youth. I was to learn, that he himself, was totally disgusted in one specific aspect of his appearance, which contributed to what has been, severe and sustained mental trauma for him, for over 35 years!!!!. I now realise, just how devastating, bullying can be. My brother, will feature in a devoted Blog segment of his own, but, if I mention, he left home 30 years ago and, has not been back since, spending years, in and out of priories, as a result of symptoms associated with eating disorders. Such was his disgust in his appearance, he has been diagnosed with BDD, better known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
Call them "old school", mum and dad, didn't handle Alan's problems well. Granted there was an element of him keeping quiet throughout. From my side, I was completely unaware, following my developing sporting passion, rarely in at nights, training and playing away. I wish I had made more time, knowing what I know now.
