Re: The Hippodrome
Well that map is pretty conclusive.
If nothing else this thread has been a good exercise in verifying:
The older I grow,
The more I recall,
How little I knew,
When I knew it all.
Anon
As I stated at the outset, memory is a funny thing and what seems dead real now may not have been quite as real then. And in my case alcohol doesn’t come into the equation. Just galloping senility.
What that map does show is my old house at 148 Blackburn Road with a large back yard that we shared with the plumbers and painters, where Accrington Stanley (me) took on all comers (my brother) and usually lost. He was older and bigger than me. In summer Jim Laker (me again) skittled out the Aussies (my brother) until a straight drive over my head made its way through the living room window, annoyed my mother no end, destroyed a cake mix rising by the fireplace with glass splinters and got cricket banned in the backyard. No cake for tea either.
By the way – the fillet steak was absolutely delicious. Roll on next month.
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