May - Old Scarborians

to learn a subject is to teach it.I moved to Sunderland in 1968 and lecturedthere until retirement in 1989. Upon retirementI returned to Scarborough, my hometown.I have been involved in sport all my life andhave enjoyed Soccer, Cricket, Tennis,Squash, and latterly, Golf. I have never excelledat any of them, but playing sports hasalways kept me fit. In my bachelor days inHull I often played Squash eight or ninetimes a week, and I, and after a game, theHull Brewery Company, both benefited. Istill play Golf, to use the word loosely, withmy handicap going from 2 to 22 in recentyears. I still hit them fairly straight, thoughnot so far.John E Mann (1950-56)At the last AGM of the Association PeterRobson turned hisbaleful gaze upon meand reminded me thatI had not yet fulfilledmy obligation, as anew Committee Member,to pen a history ofmy life. For a momentI thought that he wasabout to condemn me to a period of detentionfor my tardiness, but my abject apologysaved me from this fate.8In preparation for this piece of autobiographicaljournalism I first re-read the glowingpages of past issues of Summer Timesand it quickly dawned upon me that therewas no possibility whatsoever of my beingable to compete with the many and variousluminaries whose histories had alreadygraced these pages. After all, my name wasnot engraved on any cup or shield, nor wasit gilded on any Honours Board. Who couldpossibly be interested in the life story of suchan average student? Why on earth wouldanyone wish to waste his precious time readingof the exploits of a boy who resided inthe bottom half of his form for most of hisHigh School career? However, bear withme. After all, we do need to fill 64 pages ofeach edition!My first, and purely personal, claim to fameis that I am the only student that I am awareof, who both sat and passed the 11-plus examinationstwice. Originally I sat it whilstmy family and I were living in the West Riding.At the end of the summer term wemoved to Scarborough and when my successin the exam was published I duly applied fora place at Westwood. The North Riding EducationCommittee, in its wisdom, advisedmy parents that at the age of 10 years I wastoo young to attend such an illustrious establishmentand so I was condemned to spend awasted year at Gladstone Road Junior Schoolin the clutches of a fearsome harridan namedMiss Binns. However, the Boys’ High Schoolwas not to escape its responsibilities so easilyand I duly took and passed the paper a secondtime.In September, 1950, therefore, I presentedmyself at Joey Marsden’s emporium for furthereducation. With a new haircut, a freshlyscrubbed face and a blazer two sizes too bigfor me (so that I could grow into it) I enteredthat imposing building. My first day was arevelation. I was bushed twice and wenthome sporting a brand new tear in thepocket of my brand new blazer. Needless tosay, my parents were none too pleased and Iwas not overjoyed at the thought of goingback to school for a second day.During the following 6 years most of theMasters worked hard, without much success,at trying to educate me. In retrospect I realisethat I succeeded in those lessons where Ihad some affinity with the individualteacher, and have fond memories of LesBrown, both Rice and Price, Costain, PikeRichardson, Taylor, Hov, Gerry Hinchliffeand dear old Pop Francis. Both Zenner andDai Liddicott were dismissive of my paltry