100: Manny Hawks, Richard Allinson, Emlyn Jones and Mat Jolin-Beech, Crystal Palace, Grimsby Town, Wales and Manchester United, No Score Draws (FKA Panini Cheapskates) 2020

Back in March in the early days of lockdown the idea that we could come up with one hundred footballing heroes to write nonsense about was unimaginable. What the four of us found was that every story we came across got us thinking and talking about equally interesting or farcical tales from the beautiful game’s recent past and so here we are. To celebrate we have embarked on a bit of a vanity project and had ourselves immortalised by the wonderful No Score Draws (formerly known as Panini Cheapskates) who have brought a sense of fun to the last few major international tournaments, celebrated obscure club legends from around the world and generally made Twitter a much nicer place. Check out their range of team drawings, or maybe get your own portrait done, here. In the meantime here is a little bit more about our own (distinct lack of) footballing pedigree. Enjoy!

Manny Hawks

Position(s): Fullback; centre midfielder; goalkeeper

Clubs: Lewisham Youth, Elms, Our Lady and St Philip Neri RC School, Sharp Shooters, Lafrowda, St Paul’s, CFR Clunge, Desperate Measures, Glengarry Hamlet, PGCE Eindhoven, Simon Langton Girls’ Grammar School Staff XI, Brampton Manor Academy Staff XI

Club Supported: Crystal Palace, Juventus (94-98)

Top 3 Footballing Moments:

1. On a cold winter evening at Catford Power League I turned out for the aptly named Desperate Measures. The ball was passed back to me from kick-off and, looking up and seeing nothing on, I unleashed a shot that Matt Le Tissier would have been proud of into the top right corner. Easily the best goal I’ve ever scored. Except it didn’t count because the referee quickly realised we were on the wrong pitch and, like Le God’s scientific theories, everything went downhill from there as we lost by a cricket score in our actual match.

2. St Paul’s, a side pieced together from the History students at Exeter University, signed two new goalkeepers ahead of their 2007/08 intermural campaign. One was a sprightly Argentinian first year with bags of potential. The second was a second year in the worst physical shape of his life. I got the nod for the first game of the season against a team made up of leading members of the Athletic Union on the basis that the younger man could learn from the wily veteran’s area management and defensive instructions. Unsurprisingly we shipped double figures and the young pretender learned several English expletives and that Massimo Taibi wasn’t the best role model.

3. A genuinely frozen night down in Canterbury saw PGCE Eindhoven earn a hard fought 2-0 win to recharge their promotion push. Well that’s what I was told on the drive home anyway. In the opening exchanges I pulled off a point blank save with my face and, besides one mad rush off my line where I completely missed the ball but distracted the onrushing striker, I remember bugger all about what happened after that. It was probably Sergio Ramos’ fault. The main takeaway was that teaching with a concussion was not an experience I want to repeat.

Richard Allinson

Position(s): Goalkeeper; left back (once); centre half (rarely); left wing; centre forward (on occasions) 

Clubs: Gomersal Boys, Birkenshaw Middle School, Batley Grammar School, Talbot House, Prime Minister’s Select XI, Cobra Kai Dojo FC, Desperate Measures, Glengarry Hamlet. 

 Club Supported: Grimsby Town, Blackburn Rovers (94-98), Dulwich Hamlet 

 Top 3 Footballing Moments: 

1. This is more a significant than ‘top’ moment but breaking my leg whilst joining in training with my older brother’s team as an 8 year old. On the eve of the six-week school holidays, I went for a 50-50 ball not wearing any shin pads (ironic as I loved football so much I genuinely used to sleep in my shin pads) missed the bouncing Mitre Delta completely and broke both the shin bones on my right leg clean through. Cue a trip to A&E where, upon watching me drag my leg round the waiting room in a manner similar to Ann Widdecombe on Strictly Come Dancing, the doctor said it was likely to just be bruising but that he would do an X-Ray to humour me anyway. 10 minutes later: “I’m very sorry sir but your son seems to have broken his leg quite badly, not sure how I missed that one...” I was then put in a hip to ankle plaster cast for 2 months and sat and dreamt about how Match magazine would document my return from injury. Anyway, on seeing this mangled wreck of a child my Mum decided that being an outfield player was too dangerous and insisted I therefore play in goal in future. Little did she know that her son was a complete moron and would go on to rack up a further broken arm, broken wrist, fractured wrist, broken and dislocated thumb (same injury - painful), multiple broken fingers and also cop a fair few boots to the face for good measure. Still, I got to wear a range of ridiculous 90s goalkeeper shirts so it was all worth it. 

2. I loved playing in goal and the YouTube video of my best saves would make for enthralling viewing and would also attract a lot of comments along the lines of “that was a bit unnecessary, he could probably have just caught it.” However, some of my finest football moments came outfield. There was my debut at left back (which got off to a delayed start after I locked our entire teams kit in my Dad’s car boot); my occasional goal scoring switches to centre forward when I either got too cold or my team were winning by so many it didn’t really matter (see the David Burrows post for full details); positioning myself on the left wing of my house team at school and refusing to track back (I was wearing red boots, they were for flair not industry); and the often tried yet rarely successful toe-bunged free kicks at 5 a-side. I loved playing football in whatever position but if I’m being honest I was a much better goalkeeper than I was an actual footballer. I even had trials at Huddersfield Town once (not as impressive as it sounds, most of the children under the age of 11 in West Yorkshire were also there) but didn’t make it through. I suspected that this was largely because I got really bored and lay down in my goal area. 

3. My finest moment on a football pitch came on 31/10/1992 when I was mascot for Grimsby Town v Portsmouth at Blundell Park. This was a tenth present from my Grandparents and along with the match day experience came a full Grimsby Town home kit. This fact appeared to escape the parents of one of other kids who thought their son’s mascot experience involved sitting pitch side wearing a hat and scarf. Cue a rush to the club shop by a panicked events manager who returned with an adult extra large kit - there is no getting around it, the poor kid looked stupid. Another part of the mascot gift was a copy of the VHS recording of the match, which would ordinarily be largely unremarkable. However, my Grandad was a Vice President at the Mariners and had ensured the entirety of the pre-match warm up was focused on the mascots and me in particular. It must have made for really bizarre viewing for literally everyone else who owns a copy. Town ran out 3-0 winners that day and I’m sure the highlights of the actual game were good. However, I rarely make it beyond the warm up and more specifically the moment when I slotted a penalty low to the right hand corner past England international, and my absolute hero, Dave Beasant in front of the Pontoon stand. This is still, and I suspect always will be, a top 3 life moment, never mind a footballing one.

Emlyn Jones

Position: Centre Back; “Get up there for the corners mate” aka Prick in the Mixer

Clubs: Lafrowda, CFR Clunge, Bolt'n'Chunderers, No Punt Intended, Exeter Family Friendly

Club Supported: Reading

Top 3 Footballing Moments

1. Playing indoor football at secondary school during a PE lesson, the 'goals' were eight-inch deep benches laid on the floor, meaning the goals were slightly shorter than the ball. Everyone moaned to the teacher that it would be impossible for anybody to score. Kick off came back to me on the edge of my own area, I hoofed it, and smashed it so hard against the opponents' bench it left a mark on the wall behind it. Legitimately the only moment of footballing proficiency in my entire life.

2. Playing in the caged sand pitch at Exeter University alongside Manny and Mat. Doing my utmost to emulate Razor Ruddock and Sergio Ramos, my tackle using three separate limbs annoyed the opponent striker who claimed a penalty. I nudged his shoulder and told him to 'man up' before running away. I was wearing a sleeveless Brazil training top and eyeliner at the time.

3. Taking a shot at point blank range in the face, which snapped my glasses into too many bits to balance on my face. I then had to walk half an hour home in the dark from the Exeter University sports pitch, unable to see more than six feet in front of me. This ended in me having to ask an elderly lady to help me cross the road because I couldn't tell how far away the headlights of cars were.

Mat Jolin-Beech

Position(s): Full back (mainly), winger (most of my junior career); striker (one season); goalkeeper (emergency substitute and 5-a-side tournaments;, centre-back (occasionally); defensive midfield (when my old mates got too unfit and needed a tireless worker); linesman.

Clubs: Fulston Zebras, South Avenue Junior School, Borden Grammar School, Geog Soc, CFR Clunge, Xpression FM, Park Regis

Club supported: Manchester United

Top 3 footballing moments:

1. Following on from a personal record season the year before ,where I netted 12 goals for the first (and only) time in my career, the move up the age group to under 15s saw me moved from a flying right winger to a centre forward. It was hoped I’d form a potent duo with the previous season’s top scorer, who pipped me to the club’s golden boot award. However, I’d obviously outgrown my shooting boots, and the season only resulted in a grand total of three goals. The highlight of my ineptitude in front of goal and being a rubbish striker before either Emile Heskey or Christian Benteke made it popular, came midway through the season, during one of our many heavy defeats. We had successfully managed to block out the opponent’s attack, which in itself was rare, and launched a counterattack, using the subtle tactic of hoofing it up the pitch and running after it. My strike partner approached the right corner of the box, I was on the left. A skewed shot saw the ball run to me on the opposite corner. A good first touch saw me sprint towards the corner of the six-yard box. All I had to do was slot it in at the near post from four yards with the keeper scrabbling to make up the ground. Easy. Right? Well, not for me and my twenty pence feet. A hooked shot saw the ball miss the target by a good couple of yards. Summed up my, and the Fulston Zebras’, season.

2. Moving into my senior career now, and my university days pulling on the yellow shirt of CFR Clunge (it was actually that of Brondby – but damn, it looked good). On our way up for the weekly round of fixtures on the rubber crumb, we entered the arena (cage with the pitches on). The early fixtures were underway, so we all took our stuff and kit round the side of the pitch and behind the goals to the corner that would be the clubhouse for the day. Only, things did not go that smoothly. Dressed sharply in team yellow and blue, with low white socks and my lime green Nike Mercurials - because, style – I was trotting behind the goal oblivious to the goings-on on the pitch. At that very moment, someone hit a piledriver of a shot, but it was off target. Well, off target of the goal. Instead it smacked me clean on the side of my head. It probably pinged off, but at the same time it knocked me clean off my feet and down onto the floor in full comedy gold fashion. TIMBER! To this day, I have not lived it down, it’s always raised a chuckle from those who were there, and has instilled in me an ingrained fear to always follow a game when anywhere near a pitch!

3. Finally, we return to my debut. A school tournament when I pulled on the red and white of South Avenue Junior School. My first taste of competitive football. As a ten-year old, I was excited and buzzing. The start of my career and rise to the top! Alas, this was not the case. I wouldn’t be here on my lunch with YouTube on in the background typing up this merry tale if it was. Back to the tale. Ahead of the first round of fixtures, we were doing a series of passing drills. Someone fired in one of those awkward balls at mid-thigh height. I reached for it with my right foot, bringing it up across my body to pull the ball down. Control it I did, and I killed the ball dead before rolling in on to a teammate. However, in doing so, I manage to embed my stud into my kneecap, causing the red socks to be a more scarlet colour. Blood gushing down my knee and a flap of skin just hanging there. Cue a trip to the first aid tent to get cleaned and patched up before starting my footballing career!

BONUS: A little extra one here. Towards the end of my Sunday League career, when I was the perennial sub and only there to claim my ten-year award. One match came around, and our star striker was running later. Five minutes before kick-off, and he still wasn’t there. A rare start looked in the offing. However, we were also short of officials and my teammate had assured us he was on his way. Twenty minutes I thought, better than nothing, and I may get at least a half depending on others. But no. I ended up being the twelfth man in a team of ten. To make matters worse I was asked to run the line. At the end of the season, award in hand, I retired from the Medway Men’s Sunday league to nobody’s surprise.

So if anyone is in need of four emergency signings this January just drop us a line. Thanks to everyone who has read, retweeted, liked or shared our work so far and we hope you’ve had as much fun as we have.