Saturday, April 20, 2013


I’ve made it to fifty. In fact, like a child, I found myself telling someone last week that I was fifty and a week old! Unsurprisingly, this has been the year where many of my friends have either or are imminently turning fifty and it seems that you either celebrate it unashamedly with a big party, or you make it something of a non event.

I still feel young, in spite of the stress I’ve faced over the past three years, I still run, workout, and lust after the female form. However I’m aware that my hearing is deteriorating, I no longer have 20/20 vision, and it’s a constant battle keeping on top of unwanted ear hair, nose hair, eyebrow hair and worse still, I am aware of a bald patch forming on the top of my head!


I felt I got my birthday about right, having all the family round but I passed on the party. But I was genuinely touched by the presents, cards and Facebook messages. It kinda said ‘youre alright Cobby’ and that’s what we all want to hear.

My Mum found this wonderful piece of Jonathan Cobb history,aged 7. I'm frustrated because I have stupidly saved it in pdf so cant download, and original is sitting at home. Anyway it reads as follows;

'June 25th 1970
I wish i were a socer star and cume famusfore all the gols I scord like pele. The tems I wode play for is Chelsey and England. I wod do my best an i howp i sown will get a medall and i wod be senter forwod
I wod do my Best not to hold the Ball and cice eney Bodey wich is a fawl'

(We worry about the state of education in our schools, but 43 years ago we still had some way to go!)

What it actually says is:

‘I wish I were a soccer star and become famous for all the goals I scored like Pele. The teams I would play for is Chelsea and England. I would do my best and I hope I soon would get a medal and I would be a centre forward. I would do my best not to hold the ball and kick anybody which is a foul. ‘

I don’t want to  do a self analysis at this anniversary. You know, benchmarking yourself against compatriots and how successful they were by this age.  I guess I’m a little scared to, but I’ve never had a hunger to be massively wealthy, or to achieve worldly success, but there are times when those desires , kept hidden away in a locked box in our mind, somehow Houdini like, wriggle free and push themselves to the front of our minds and say ‘He’s got a bigger house’ ‘She will be able to retire in 10 years’ (some hope me!) or ‘Two holidays a year. That would be nice’

I’m pleased that as a seven year old I saw the benefit of endeavour and fair play, and if I have to justify myself to anybody but myself or my maker, I know I can say that those attributes have been consistent.  I noticed on the news this week that a recent survey by the MCC  showed that two thirds of uk children feel under pressure to cheat at sports because of a ‘win at all costs’ culture .   On Saturday morning, go up to Memorial Park (or your equivalent) and see Fathers with number one haircuts, 4x4 offroaders as their vehicle of choice, signet ring, obligatory sleeper earing, staffy dog named over disgraced boxer  screaming at ‘kevin / Danny / Jason ‘ to ‘Get stuck in’ & ‘let ‘im know yer ‘ere’

Hi Dad!

Showered, lunched (McDonalds) back in 4x4 to White Hart lane, Highbury, Kenilworth Rd, Father & son adorned in replikit will together shout to a highly paid ‘Kevin / Danny /Jason’ to ‘Get stuck in’ & ‘let ‘im know yer ‘ere’

Am I over egging this if I conclude that Son is getting a subliminal message that Dad will love son if he is a ‘winner?’

I remember that day when I realised that Cobby wasn’t going to ever captain Pompey.  Never to be interviewed by Chris Kamara and hear those words ‘I just wanna  thank me Dad’

He’s a happy enough chap, seemingly content in his own world of gardening, reggae, ska and Steller. No, not the lager, that’s the name of his girlfriend.  

I feel successful when I look at him. That's my boy! 

1 comment:

  1. your son is content but are you? beware the post fifty fallout