Back in (the Summer of…) ’69 and for many years before, all Primary 7 kids in Clydebank had to sit an exam known  colloquially as The ‘Quali’.

The area didn’t yet have a Senior High School (ie) no 5th and 6th years therefore the so called ‘academic’ students, roughly 10% of each class were shipped off to Dumbarton.

I was sent to St. Patrick’s All Boys School (don’t judge….) and it was Notre Dame for the girls.

As you can imagine, there was, ahem, a lot of interaction between the schools.

St Patrick’s was also the go-to High School for anybody that lived in Dumbarton, Renton, Alexandria, Balloch and Helensburgh regardless of academic ability.

The Dumbarton guys hated the Renton boys, The Renton boys fought with the lads from Alexandria, Alexandria battled those from Balloch and so on…..

However they all found a common cause to HATE, yes you guessed it, those damn infiltrators from faraway (12 minutes by train) Clydebank!

You had to watch yourself and make sure you were always in a crowd.

Any gang fights that erupted between the warring factions during school hours were usually settled after 4pm as the Dumbarton boys’ older brothers, uncles and dads would arrive, some still wearing their boiler suits, brandishing  hammers and spanners!!

Once a member of The Dinky – Always a member!!

But I don’t want to concentrate on this aspect of my school memories, although one story bears retelling.

From my very first week at St Pat’s I kept hearing whispered warnings:

‘Watch out for The Brazilians!’ and ‘Keep away from The Brazilians!’

Expecting at any minute to see a horde of fearsome, spear carrying warriors descending on the playground, my curiosity finally got the better of me and I asked a local boy:

‘Who are the Brazilians??’

He looked very puzzled then laughed and said:
‘It’s NO ‘The Brazilians’ Ya F@#&ing Eejit! ‘It’s the ‘Brucehill Yins!!!’

Brucehill was a large, notorious housing scheme adjacent to the school.

Duly embarrassed, I scurried away and never mentioned them again!

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No – what I really want to talk about is what saved me from the daily battles – sport!

I was a fairly average footballer, but a fast sprinter and a good long jumper.

I was soon a member of both the football and the athletic teams with training most nights after school.

This saved me from running the daily, half mile gauntlet to Dalreoch train station. I also got to know the local older boys from both teams who looked out for you.

One day, as I was heading into the gym, I was taken aside, by the head of the PE Dept. John Ward, and told ‘You’re playing Basketball!’

‘No I’m not!’ I instantly replied!

Basketball was as alien to me as Mongolian Mud Wrestling!

He ignored my pleas and said ‘You’re tall, (5’ 9″ at age 12½ but I didn’t grow much more!) you’re fast and you can jump.’

So thus started my life long, deep love of Bask…..NO!

I fecken hated it!

I was like Bambi on ice! I couldn’t grasp the basics, kept looking at my feet and therefore didn’t see the ball when it was passed to me (which wasn’t very often!)

When I did touch the ball it felt big and heavy and I’d just chuck it in the air, missing any teammate by several feet!

I gave up after three sessions.

Two weeks later my friends Rab and Jim persuaded me to try again.

Rab, who’d clearly started shaving when he was about eight, was the left-handed 6′ strongman, power forward of the team.

Jim was the wily playmaker (think quarter back or midfield general) They were joined by Sandro a 6′ 2″ towering rebounder and scorer at Centre. Ronnie a clever 6’1″ shot maker and defender and me as ‘potential’ shooting guard.

This starting 5 were ably augmented by Eddie, David Bob and wee 5’4″ Danny, who was a late developer and grew to 6′ 2″!

Amazingly after a few more training sessions suddenly everything just clicked into place. My feet did what they were supposed to do and I could now see to catch the ball!

Our coach Giff Bradley got us training with a medicine ball which of course then made the basketball feel much lighter. He toughened us up with leg strengthening drills.

We were all too young for weight training, so he concentrated on our fitness and stamina.

He taught us how to shoot properly and how to rebound.

He then introduced us to complex offense and defence formations: 2-1-2 and 1-3-1 zone defences, man-to-man, full court press…..

We took it all in our stride … and were soundly beaten 14-13 in our first ever game!

To put that into context: a basketball game lasts 20 minutes each half but the clock stops every time the ball is not in play.

So a game can easily last 50-70 minutes.

A 14-13 scoreline is what you’d expect after about 8 minutes play!

John Ward was furious and locked us all in the gym after the game (even though we were the away team!) and gave us the hairdryer treatment for over an hour! Maybe Alex Ferguson learned it from JW?

We did take it all to heart though and went on an unbeaten run that lasted for three seasons, winning every trophy we entered including three Scottish Cups.

(The only team to beat us was the older St. Pats team! Comprising of Pat Boyce, Gerry Fallon, Stephen Milligan, John Meiklejohn, Desy Hone and others.)

This unparalleled success was much to the disgust of all the Edinburgh based schools who believed that the sport belonged to them.

Four of our team, Rab, Jim, Sandro and myself were selected to represent the Scottish Schoolboys in the Home Internationals.

However Edinburgh’s petty jealousy continued as instead of playing the four of us and ‘A.N.Other’ to start the games, only two of us were ever on the court at the same time!

Their loss……

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Now the only Basketball footwear that was available back then was The Converse All-Star. And the only place in the West of Scotland you could buy them was in Lumley’s in Sauchiehall Street.

You could get them in Hi or Lo cut and in a range of colours … white or….erm, white.

Every pair had ‘IRREGULAR’ branded into the rubber soles.

(I believe the Lumley’s buyer had a deal going with the Faslane American base.)

It was every player’s dream to get a pair without this stamp.

The shoe was actually unsuitable for the sport as they had very little cushioning and no ankle support. But we were all still envious when our coach Giff appeared at training one evening sporting a pair of Purple Suede Lo Cons!

They were spectacular!

I’ve no idea where he got them, maybe a relative had brought them back from a visit to the USA.

Unfortunately after a hard and sweaty three hour training session the dye ran turning his socks and feet a shade of Deep Purple!

This was very appropriate as they had just released their seminal album ‘In Rock.’

Several hot showers later, scrubbing with a wire brush and Dettol his feet were still purple!

(To be continued …)