2024 Reunion

30th ABER FOOTBALL REUNION APRIL 2024

Last year’s report featured Rowly and Dick Packham’s accommodation problems which caused Dick to miss the first night’s dinner. This year they went one better: both missed the dinner. It was the talking point of the Friday night - the weekend indeed. The story varied wildly but this is what happened (I think): Dick’s car had a blow out in the remote mountains of mid-Wales. Very fortuitously it was right opposite the only building for miles around, which happened to be a pub. Even more fortuitous. This is the highest pub in mid-Wales, the Brecon Beacons or Wales; take your pick. Dick had bought the car one year and 4 days previously (patience, the 4 days is significant). The Royal Mail being what it is he hadn’t received a reminder that his MOT was due, which meant it was (only just) out-of-date, which meant his insurance didn’t cover him, nor his AA membership. The AA did, however, arrange a tow truck to come from Swansea and bring the car to Aber for (what seemed a not unreasonable to me anyway) £392. During our Friday night dinner Tiggy played a blinder fielding and making phone calls to sort out the problems and bring our boys home. They finally got in around 11.30pm. Some of the group gallantly waited up for them and duly celebrated their arrival. Most of us, sensibly, went to bed.

Last year: “Friday was grim weatherwise, or perhaps typically Aberystwyth.” This year was even more grim, as storm Kathleen hit and the waves crashed over the promenade.

As usual Jeanette and I were there on the Thursday and on the Friday met Lev and Mary-Lee at breakfast in The Marine, having made their pilgrimage from Cincinnati again, this time accompanied by their son Stuart, who made a significant dent in the average age of the group. Not a lot to be done outdoors on Friday, but Jeanette and I visited the National Library again to see the Pickford’s Exhibition. Most will recall their photographic shop in Pier Street, if only for the graduation photograph when Pickford’s gave you a blank piece of rolled up paper to represent a degree which would arrive very much later by post. I have definitely been to the National Library more often since leaving Aber than in all my time here, which included 2 years next door in Pantycelyn.

Initially we were all to go to the Aber Town match on Friday night, Tiggy having arranged the Director’s Box. However the match was switched to Saturday for TV (yes, Aber Town v Bridgend on TV!) so Tiggy arranged for us to have the John Charles lounge for a very good (especially the cheesecake), great value carvery instead. All on condition we didn’t let Jim have a karaoke session.

Saturday, as last year, was much brighter, but windy. The Masters Golf competition didn’t take place this year. The Red Kite course closed its 9 hole course because of people not paying apparently. Extraordinarily this lawlessness did not include us, so law-abiding are we now. We considered Aber Golf Course briefly ,but rather unenthusiastically, partially because at £30 for 9 holes versus £35 for 18 it seemed a bit steep for us poor students, but mostly because it actually is so steep that we would have needed crampons not to be blown off.

Anthony Evans, local historian, notoriously tricky spin bowler and now published author (making it at least two published writers in the group following Mildred’s lead - and with Tiggy still working on his opus we could have three) took us for a walk locally. Given that it was around Aber it was shocking that some of us had never seen those areas before. The park (to be fair only opened in 1972), Aberystwyth cemetery and rugby club as well as Plas Crug were all new to me.There were some former college buildings, including the chemistry department. The College no longer has one, having given up after Lev left. We then came out at Vicarage Fields where many of us had played football and cricket.

Photo taken on our walk at Vicarage fields, in front of an appropriate large poster. 

Given that it was a brief walk, largely on the flat, I did wonder yet again what some carried in their backpacks given that our survival was rarely in question. Soon we were sitting in an attractive new cafe, decorated in a sort of bordello style, situated in the old Welsh school adjacent to the station. I am not sure what the previous users of the building would have made of it. Afterwards we dispersed: a group of ladies raided the extraordinarily populous charity shops before retiring to the Libertine, for their customary cocktail before dinner.The men did men things. Howard and John Ansell, who we were really delighted to see back again, went to Aber Town v Bridgend. This was brave, since even Tiggy stayed at home and watched it on TV. John described the game after dinner, saying that a few hundred hardy souls watched as the wind blew horizontally and Aber’s cunning tactic of kicking the ball high in the air failed, with Bridgend winning 3-0. Howard, who lives in Bridgend, was happy but for Aber it is now a relegation battle. I feel I have written that before. I wandered around Aber and visited an old haunt, The Cabin, whilst others watched matches in The White Horse - another old haunt.

Saturday night and dinner in The Marine came around all too fast. People were extraordinarily prompt, already taking their seats as we arrived on schedule. There was enough food to fill everyone a couple of times over, especially with vegetables. Ken did the usual apologies afterwards. Rob Culley had been expected but had to withdraw because of Gaynor’s health issues. We wish her well. Similarly Bruce had hoped to be there but Magdalene fell down the stairs at home and is recovering from a crushed femur. Derrick was MC and duly called on me to make the after dinner speech. Actually there were two, with Mike Pickard following me. (Ken was obviously hedging his bets after asking me) .Or three if you include John Ansell’s account of the Aber Town match.

I spoke of my coming to Aberystwyth, Pantycelyn in Prince Charles’ time and how Charles was the driving force behind the setting up of Phoenix. Also Medieval Welsh history with him, having forgotten that Howard and Derrick were in the same class - though as Welsh speakers they could actually understand what was going on and didn’t sit uncomprehendingly at the back like Charles and me. The only good thing I know about my speech was that my wife said that she heard stories about Aber that she hadn’t heard before. All true of course!

Last year I mentioned Lev’s All Stars and how we were condemned in The Courier for fielding District League players in the Digs League (we all played out of position, which we felt excused us). To finish this year I said how great my four years in this very special place had been and also that I won my first ever football trophy. I held up the tiny, insignificant Digs League medal (yes, I still had it) asking was it really worth all the opprobrium?

Mike Pickard, the second after dinner speaker, talked about his school in Swansea, Dynevor, before coming onto the subject of Aber and the Astra and Arabs days. Highlight of the night was Mike running through famous Dynevor old boys such as Harry Secombe, Spencer Davis and Rowan Williams. “Oh, Mr. Bean” said Mildred. Mike had to point out that he was actually the Archbishop of Canterbury ! Mike talked of how we had all made truly lasting friendships in Aber and finished, most appropriately, with a toast to “Friendship”.

Meanwhile Dave Charles had set up his music machines in the back room to which we retired for a sing-song. It covered some Welsh songs, some old Aber favourites and more than a few 60s specials (though nothing from Dynevor old boy Spencer Davis). My only disappointment was that we did not finish off with “Yma O Hyd”. That should be compulsory in my view. For we are still here.

Sunday was windy still but fine. It was the traditional stroll down to kick the bar, press-ganging a passer-by into taking photos followed by coffees in the Prom Diner. You pick up little snippets in the chats there that surprise you. I mentioned last year that Alex doesn’t have the same accent as Jim despite being in the same Birmingham school. Alex was actually born in Glasgow - and definitely doesn’t have the same accent as Dick Wrigley! Reluctantly people drifted away and we all wished Dick Packham, a safe trip home. Rowly was, sensibly, going in the opposite direction. Ivor Plonk had been expected for the 30th since he boasted of attending every 5 years but maybe he got confused since this was the 30th Reunion in the 32nd year. Let’s hope that he, those who couldn’t make it and all the rest of us who did can make next year. For those who didn’t buy Anthony Evans’ fine book, “In the Shadow of Pen Dinas” bring along £10 next year, it is a good read about growing up in the lower Ystwyth Valley and is for charity too. It includes his poetry and Anthony writes “That passage of time is endless, Man powerless in its wake”. Nevertheless our group keeps defying gravity by having such great numbers turn up every year for this very special weekend after Easter (yes, it was agreed we keep to the same dates). Thanks to those who organise and help: Ken, Derrick, Jim and Beryl and especially our men on the ground, Tiggy and Anthony. See you all in 2025.

Des Drumm, April 2024

Those who hadn't left early on the Sunday walked down to kick the bar and for a last photo, amid the stones washed up by the storms. 

Attendees:

Tiggy and Marilyn Bates
Mike and Shan Pickard
Lev and Mary-Lee Edwards
Stuart Edwards
Pete and Kathy Strydom
Allan Banwell
Alex Coupland
Ken and Ann Passmore
John (Rowly) Rowlands
Jim and Beryl Kettle
Howard Phillips
Spike and Lynda Jones
Des and Jeanette Drumm
John and Shirley Ansell
Dave and Rose Charles
Glyn (Louie) and Rita Lewis
Derrick and Mildred Spragg
Dick Packham
Mick Newman
Anthony Evans
Tony McGuinness