Chelsea FC in the Swinging '60s by Greg Tesser

Author:Greg Tesser
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780752494180
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2013-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

TEN

ENDORSEMENTS AND

THAT CUP FINAL

It was a clammy day in Chelsea. A fidgety wind kept rustling the skeletal trees, so that in spite of the thin sun and the mild air London was filled with a sort of unease and the threat of a storm.

At Stamford Bridge, the pitch was caked in pudding-like mud. Ossie was in his Chelsea colours, kicking a ball left and right as a fawning photographer snapped incessantly. ‘I’d like Peter to head a few balls into the net,’ said the man with the camera in a reedy voice.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘What would you like Peter to do?’

‘Well, if he could stand near the penalty spot, could you send in a few crosses from the corner flag?’

I swallowed, and the butterflies in my stomach took on a life of their own and went on a rampaging dance.

‘Well, I’m not really dressed for kicking a football,’ I moaned. ‘Surely you can do without me.’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said the reedy voice. ‘Just do your best.’

Now, I was almost neurotically fastidious in those days about my sartorial appearance. And the thought of giving a football a host of heavy whacks from the corner flag quadrant filled me with horror. You see I was dressed in yet another King’s Road suit, complete with the same wet-look buckled shoes that Charlie Cooke had commented on after the QPR Cup-tie.

‘Can’t somebody in the club office fix you up with some gear?’ enquired the reedy voice.

‘No, don’t worry,’ I replied. ‘I’ll have a go.’

By this time I was more than just a shade embarrassed by my obsession with my clothes, and God knows what Ossie thought of me. This was hardly the stuff of a macho man, but he took it all in good spirit. After all, the payback was several hundreds of pounds in endorsement lolly from the Bukta people, plus the promise of more work in the future.

I felt a lonely figure as Ossie handed me the ball, and I placed it by the corner flag at the end opposite The Shed. My first effort was far too low for the Chelsea striker, but once I forgot about my trendy suit and my ultra-expensive footwear, the corners just flowed, and there was Peter heading in left and right as the man with the camera became more and more animated.

At the end of the session, Ossie was effusive in praise of my corner kicks. ‘How nice he is,’ I thought. ‘Always so generous in his praise of people.’

After a few inane pleasantries, the Bukta photographer left, no doubt to constantly regale his friends and family of his Stamford Bridge exploits.

As for Peter, he changed back into his civvies, I attempted to wipe mud off my shoes, and we went off for a cuppa at a local café.

The irony of the whole Bukta photo session was that, despite taking seemingly endless snaps of Ossie heading home my corners, the majority of images used in the company’s major advertising campaign revolved around the Chelsea star

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