[cite]Posted By: Shag[/cite]Adidas Tango , Spain World Cup 1982
Agreed but I remember it from the 1978 world cup...ticker tape, Kempes, Cubillas, Zoff...and the sweaties going ahead against the Dutch, thinking they had a chance, only to go out. Never mind.
Yep, Surridge. Used to paint our Subbuteo balls in that design. I was desperate to have a proper replica one but they were too expensive for us pups, had a cheapie one from Woolies!
The ones you get at the seaside that are so light that when you kick them into the wind they go 10 feet forward and 7 feet backwards before getting blown down the beach and then washed out to sea.
Still got my Italia 1990 skills ball it was small, read white and green think it was from coca cola it was a class little ball. anyone else rember what i mean?? couldnt find a picture of it. it had the world cup logo on it the bloke made of blocks kicking a ball.
if you look on the link above we have a blinding excuse why we have not won owt since 1966... Its addidas fault!! the moment Slazenger stoped making the balls we have won jack.
[cite]Posted By: leftbehind[/cite]The old mitre matchday ones from teh 80's
With you there. Used to love those footballs. Had one once, cost an arm and a leg. Got it home and with a few kicks it ended up with a thorn or something in it. Didn't have the heart to tell my mum, who I had convinced that I "needed" one. I hid it or something. I think that scarred me.
[cite]Posted By: Chirpy Red[/cite]Happy school days......
Cold February PE lesson and taking one of these on the thigh from the kid who looked like he should have been 3 years above you!
This is what I had. It was called The Thunderer! That's not what it was sold as, just what we called it. It was in the early seventees, and even then I only got it because my Dad was on some sort of nostalgia trip. After a while the lace broke because these things just weren't designed to be kicked up and down the street. For a while around that time it became fashionable to have shoelaces that weren't real laces as you'd normally recognise them, but strips of of thinly cut leather. I say "thinly", but in reality these strips must have been about 3mm deep, which is exceedingly thick for a lace. Anyway, my Mum decided that one of these leather laces would make an ideal replacement for the broken one on the ball. And so it was that I became the proud owner of the most dangerous balls in football history. Not thinking of the potential for damage, as soon as it was "fixed" I was straight over the field with a gang of mates and the ball from hell. We were only a few minutes into the game when one of us found out the hard way the magic that this sphere possessed: Knocked almost flat with a blinding headache, a huge red mark on on the forehead underpinned by a line of perfectly formed indentations. You might think that that would be the end of the game and that we'd all go home, but no, boys being boys we carried on making it a special act of bravado to head the ball. It wasn't long before we all looked like we were going a halloween party dressed as Frankenstein's Monster.
That isn't the end of the story though. My Dad, seeing the damage that this ball caused, decided that it would be best emplyed as a training aid. Now I was never a member of a proper team and I never had any of the football training that most kids seemed to get. In fact I still maintain to this day that that is the sole reason why I never made it as a professional. My training consisted of a tow-rope with a looped end being tied to the apex of the swing frame in my back garden so that it resembled a sort of home made gallows, except that the noose was just about a foot from the floor. The t-ball was tied, via the leather lace to the noose so that the ball dangled just inches from the ground. I think the idea was that I'd be able to kick the ball around as much as I liked without damaging Mum's precious pansies or banging the ball against the wall and disturbing the ITV Seven that was being keenly watched in the house. With this state of the art training I'd somehow develop all the ball control of Dad's hero, Chris Duffy. The reality of my owning the prototype version of Swingball was unfortunately rather different. Rather than developing the silky ball control my father had intended, I spent hours belting it as hard as I could to see how many times I could wrap the rope around the top of the swing. You had to run out of the way very quickly though, If you didn't want to surcome to the torment known as Football Up The Arse Syndrome. To this day the effects of this "training" still cause my five-a-side team dismay when I belt the ball so hard from defence that it hits the wall behind the opposition goal and bounces straight back with enough force to provide the perfect through ball for any opposition forwards.
If there was any justice in this world the ball would now be taking its rightful place in history sitting in the National Football Museum in Preston alongside Harold Hobbis' iron clad boots and Bert Trautman's original Kruger-Glove. In reality though it is just rotting away on a dump somewhere on Canvey Island. Shame.
Comments
Yep, Surridge. Used to paint our Subbuteo balls in that design. I was desperate to have a proper replica one but they were too expensive for us pups, had a cheapie one from Woolies!
Only pic I can find is this one
Cold February PE lesson and taking one of these on the thigh from the kid who looked like he should have been 3 years above you!
Come off it. You never used a ball like that at Crown Woods.
What was the name of the cheap plastic balls in the 60s and 70s?
Brown to look like leather. Friedo or something.
2/- in the papershop and then over the green to play until dark or a gust of wind took it away.
Top shout Shag, was the official ball for the 1978 World Cup too, it was made of lighter materials for the 82 World Cup and is the nuts.
You're a lot older than me mate , I only just about remember the '82 version .
This is what I had. It was called The Thunderer! That's not what it was sold as, just what we called it. It was in the early seventees, and even then I only got it because my Dad was on some sort of nostalgia trip. After a while the lace broke because these things just weren't designed to be kicked up and down the street. For a while around that time it became fashionable to have shoelaces that weren't real laces as you'd normally recognise them, but strips of of thinly cut leather. I say "thinly", but in reality these strips must have been about 3mm deep, which is exceedingly thick for a lace. Anyway, my Mum decided that one of these leather laces would make an ideal replacement for the broken one on the ball. And so it was that I became the proud owner of the most dangerous balls in football history. Not thinking of the potential for damage, as soon as it was "fixed" I was straight over the field with a gang of mates and the ball from hell. We were only a few minutes into the game when one of us found out the hard way the magic that this sphere possessed: Knocked almost flat with a blinding headache, a huge red mark on on the forehead underpinned by a line of perfectly formed indentations. You might think that that would be the end of the game and that we'd all go home, but no, boys being boys we carried on making it a special act of bravado to head the ball. It wasn't long before we all looked like we were going a halloween party dressed as Frankenstein's Monster.
That isn't the end of the story though. My Dad, seeing the damage that this ball caused, decided that it would be best emplyed as a training aid. Now I was never a member of a proper team and I never had any of the football training that most kids seemed to get. In fact I still maintain to this day that that is the sole reason why I never made it as a professional. My training consisted of a tow-rope with a looped end being tied to the apex of the swing frame in my back garden so that it resembled a sort of home made gallows, except that the noose was just about a foot from the floor. The t-ball was tied, via the leather lace to the noose so that the ball dangled just inches from the ground. I think the idea was that I'd be able to kick the ball around as much as I liked without damaging Mum's precious pansies or banging the ball against the wall and disturbing the ITV Seven that was being keenly watched in the house. With this state of the art training I'd somehow develop all the ball control of Dad's hero, Chris Duffy. The reality of my owning the prototype version of Swingball was unfortunately rather different. Rather than developing the silky ball control my father had intended, I spent hours belting it as hard as I could to see how many times I could wrap the rope around the top of the swing. You had to run out of the way very quickly though, If you didn't want to surcome to the torment known as Football Up The Arse Syndrome. To this day the effects of this "training" still cause my five-a-side team dismay when I belt the ball so hard from defence that it hits the wall behind the opposition goal and bounces straight back with enough force to provide the perfect through ball for any opposition forwards.
If there was any justice in this world the ball would now be taking its rightful place in history sitting in the National Football Museum in Preston alongside Harold Hobbis' iron clad boots and Bert Trautman's original Kruger-Glove. In reality though it is just rotting away on a dump somewhere on Canvey Island. Shame.
Yes we did.
I expect you were a serial "kit forgetter", not being the sporty type and all that......
Frido wasn't it? Marvellous isn't it?. Small boys, jumpers for goalposts, rush goalie wasn't it?