PAGE ONE: Recently, I learned that my old friend, Martin Gorry, is dead. He played for Barnsley FC between 1971 and 1977, then signed for Newcastle United for £60,000 – a lot of money at the time.
I first meet Martin in the week he signs apprentice professional forms, 55 years ago this month. After a warm-up on the Queen’s Ground, Bob Parker, Youth Team and Reserve Team coach, introduces him to the rest of the apprentices. Martin is slim, long legged and wears a permanent smile – he seems to love life.
“Into pairs!” orders our coach. “We’ll play attacker versus defender.
“Steelie,” he says, turning to me, “Play against the young lad from Derby.”
There are eight pairs of footballers, and Martin and I have to go first while everyone watches. Someone’s ego is about to take a bashing.
“Ronnie, I want you to dribble past Martin and reach the touchline. Ok? Martin, you simply have to stop him.”
Martin, full of adrenalin, comes charging in to steal the ball. He’s experiencing what our coach calls ‘a rush of blood’. It makes beating him easy. I just push the ball to one side of him and run round the other side.
Phew! I’m so relieved. I really didn’t want a newcomer embarrassing me on his first day.
(After that session, I can’t recall ever dribbling past him again.)
Later, I’m asked to show him the ropes – how to avoid getting the booby prize for the worst trainee of the day, how to find your way around the rabbit-warren of a main-stand, how to dress on match days, how to polish the first teamers’ boots, how to clean the baths and showers and outside public toilets, etc.
Martin Gorry and I soon become big pals. He’s intelligent, articulate and he’s a reader – he’s certainly not the stereotypical young footballer. He thrives when he’s the centre of attention and enjoys making people laugh. With Bri Smith, Graham Collingwood, Phil Sanderson (and later the Scot, Garry Wilson)... MORE TO FOLLOW VIA EMAIL
Ronnie Steele
05/08/2025
