Questions questions questions! I would ask the top pigeon men in my area – I must have been a complete pest. As money was tight I would spend hours breaking up red brick and mortar for the birds. Cabbage water from the kitchen was saved and given to the birds as an iron tonic. I could not afford to join the local pigeon club but would attend Friday night to help basket the birds for Saturdays race. I did not have a timing clock but was asked if I would like to send to the race as trainers. I accepted the offer to club secretary, a respected Mr Minns.

All week I could not sleep and finally Saturday arrived. In those days pigeons were released to arrive home after 1 oclock as most people worked Saturday mornings. I was probably scanning the skies before they were actually released and finally spotted a pigeon sky high, folding its wings back “Come on, Come on” I shouted as it dived into the loft looking at me as if to say “What’s all the fuss about”. I was jumping up and down running around the garden shouting “I got one” I was that excited I had to tell someone, I ran to the nearest fancier, Mr & Mrs Potter. The front door opened.”I got one” I blurted out. “What time have you got” asked Mr Potter. “10 past 3” I replied, excited. I then came back down to earth with a bang “I had all of mine home by then” came the reply.

I never sent to any other races for quit a few years due to other interests: Girls, Rugby, Career; probably in that order. The pigeons were always at the bottom of the garden.

Next time. My first proper race. John