Fifty years of wonderful memories.
By: Alvin Corneal (Guardian).I am not among those who saw doom and gloom over the past 50 years. Those who were too young to have experienced some of the great events of the past five decades, may never know how joyful life could be when some of the greatest exponents of various sporting activities were producing some levels of excellence in a manner that brought joy to the hearts of many.
I happened to have witnessed some moments of brilliance by a number of persons whose ability to perform their skills would hardly ever be forgotten.
Even if I cared to throw my mind back to the early sixties when there seemed nothing more important than sporting events, the joy that these pleasant thoughts bring to me could hardly be mastered in similar fields.
The days when Roger Gibbon and Daniel Morelon the French Champion cyclist would have the huge crowds on their toes as they entered the final round of the one thousand metres sprint at Guaracara Park.
The atmosphere was electrifying at the southern games and those who have not seen the extraordinary ability of Gibbon, Compton Gonzalves, Leslie King, Fitzroy Hoyte, Hylton Mitchell, Gene Samuel, and Ian Atherley, will never understand why this great country did not have time to be recklessly doing unwanted things, when enjoyment was just around the corner.
Even when you were not around the actual playing field, the joy would have come to you through the voices of people like Raffie Knowles, Tony Williams and Ken Laughlin, each with a style of his own, but none with the flambuoyance and excitement of Raffie.
After having had a good look at the famous five Malvern forwards of the fifties, whose scoring of five goals in a second half of a North encounter against South, why would the fans ever think of not wanting to be present for any further occurrences of a similar quality?
Some guys were excellent dribblers on the football field, but Matthew Nunes was magical in his rhythmic and totally deceptive slalom type movement as he danced over and around some fierce tackles with a smile on his face. There was no winner when Matthew played.
He stole the show at all times and even when one was on the field with him, it was difficult not to admire the genius of a ball artist. And for those who preferred to see our track stars in those days, we produced a bunch of quatermilers who took our country’s national flag to the Olympic games.
Wendell Mottley, Kent Bernard, Edwin Roberts, Edwin Skinner, and Len Yearwood may have been more recognised by our people if television pictures could have brought these superb athletes to our living rooms regularly.
It is seriously unfair for our young athletes not to have heard of the likes of Charlie Joseph, Ainsley Armstrong, Ben Cayenne, all of whom were in the same era with our gold medallist Haseley Crawford. Independence seemed to have been a signal for this twin Island state to show the world that our love for what we were doing, was not motivated by money, but by the pride of dedication and commitment to family, club and country.
And if you wanted to know our ability to fight, just follow the crowd to see the world champions, Leslie Stewart, and Claude Noel. Unlike today, winning a world title was a result of meeting and beating the best in their weight class, whether it be in Indianapolis, or Puerto Rico or even here at the Jean Pierre Complex, the joy of success ran like a vine among our people.
I shed a tear for some of the persons who have passed before they were given their due of recognition in their fields. My mind runs immediately to Joey Carew, a master batsman, a master of strategy as a captain and my childhood friend out of our alma mater Fatima College. Richard Desouza and Aldric Son Baptiste were also superb exponents of the sports they played and unfortunately got lost in father time.
If you are under 40 years old, the name of Carlton Franco will hardly be known to you, unless your father or grandfather expressed the joy he received from ‘The General,’ who led his club, Malvern, by example and wore this country’s colours well.
And while we have produced some great ones at almost every decade, the one I respect and regard most was Willie Rodriguez, arguably the best allround footballer that I have played with and against. And if you challenged him in the other major sport of cricket, he will leave you guessing with his superb leg spinners.
Willie happens to be and will probably always be the only player to have represented the West Indies in both cricket and football. My era of Mapleites led by the dynamic Sedley joseph and a cadre of quality players like the Aleong brothers Andy and Eddie, Tyrone Delabastide, Ellis Sadaphal, Bobby Sookram, Lincoln Phillips and Jean Mouttet, brought joy to the hearts of their supporters and were actually the first local team to play in the Concacaf champions league.
But in the midst of our wonderful days of sport, a transition, unwanted in my opinion, stepped in and railroaded the concept and blueprint which our sportsmen had brought to our young people.
Since that time, we are in search of yesterday’s sporting image. Surely, we have had efforts from the likes of Brian Lara, Everard Cummings, Steve David, and the young hockey star Kwandwayne Browne, while the female input of dames like the late Jean Pierre, Cheryl Peters, Marjorie John, and others threw in their contributions with honour and dignity.
Nevertheless, the structural fabric of club life had disappeared from the scene and were replaced by arbitrary street corner teams.
Professionalism entered the fray without the participants understanding the meaning of the word. The process was horribly flawed and we had an influx of sportsmen who received money without giving in return the necessities which could have taken us way past one gold, and three bronze in London. That was my memories of my past fifty years. What is yours?
T&T’s first World Cup team of 1965:
Left to right, back row, Eric James, Conrad Brathwaite, Andy Aleong, Jeffery Gellineau, Alvin Corneal, Ken Galt, Sir Solomon Hochoy, Cyril Austin, Sedley Joseph, Pat Small, Clem Clarke and Sonny Thompson.
Front row: Tyrone de la Bastide, Kenny Furlonge, Lincoln Phillips, Doyle Griffith and Aldwyn Ferguson