Bill Nicholson. Brian Scovell
he said.
At the time he was the tenth-youngest player ever to have appeared in the first team.
In October 1939, Bill Nicholson was called up for military service and joined the Durham Light Infantry at Brancepeth Barracks. Brancepeth is a village five miles south west of Durham, no more than 65 miles from Scarborough. ‘It was tiring work,’ he recalled. ‘When we first arrived, we had to drill with wooden rifles because the real thing was in such limited supply. I worked hard to pass the Cadre course and became a lance corporal and then a sergeant. Most of my six years in the Army were spent in Britain as an instructor, first in infantry training, which I knew little about, and then in physical education at Brancepeth.’
In World War I, hundreds of footballers were slaughtered, many of them with ‘Unknown Soldier’ on their gravestones because of the carnage and confusion on the battlefields. But in World War II, senior officers were intent on using footballers as trainers and role models. Few sportsmen fought at the front line. One exception was Captain Hedley Verity, the Yorkshire and England bowler, who died in a prisoner-of-war camp in Italy after being shot at Caserto in 1943. Eleven years older, Verity was a hero to Bill Nicholson while he was growing up and collecting cigarette cards of cricketers. In the winter months, each barrack room at Brancepeth was rationed to just one bucket of coal a day and soldiers often stole coal from any source they could find. To keep warm, they had to keep on moving and Bill was at the forefront, teaching large groups of men on 16-week courses.
Between 1939 and 1946, the Football League was suspended and the local professional clubs were not allowed to play in competitive matches, but friendlies were permitted and he made 15 appearances as a guest with Newcastle, Darlington, Hartlepool United, Middlesbrough, Sunderland and Fulham. Fan John Noble first saw him play when he was representing Darlington: ‘He helped Darlington to be one of the best teams in England and one of the other quality guest players was Jimmy Mullen of Wolves. As kids we used to hang around outside the changing rooms, kicking a ball about, waiting for the players to come out, hoping they would join in. Bill Nick always did for a short time and that made our day. He was always smart in his uniform, ready to get the bus back to camp.’
In 1939, a quiet and reserved young Bill left north London but within weeks he was on his way to becoming a confident, authoritative lecturer, used to addressing huge numbers. It was no surprise that so many ex-Army people became football coaches when the Football League resumed in 1946. ‘My experience proved invaluable because one of the prime requisites in coaching was being able to put your ideas over,’ he said. His Army spell was extended when he was sent to the headquarters of the Central Mediterranean Forces in Udini, Italy. There he was fortunate to meet Geoff Dyson, the dynamic athletic coach, who later became the AAA coach. Bill recalled: ‘Geoff was a fantastic organiser and lecturer and probably had more to do with my becoming a coach than anyone.’
The other person he met at that time who proved a strong influence was his first and only girlfriend, Grace Lillian Power, who lived at 17 Farningham Road, a few hundred yards from White Hart Lane. When he was first billeted out at Tottenham, he lodged at 23 Farningham Road, four houses up, and started taking her out. He came round almost every night and she later recalled: ‘My father had a billiards table and he often used to come and play.’
Mr and Mrs Power had three daughters: twins Grace and Ivy and elder daughter Winnie, of whom Bill once admitted: ‘I fancied her originally, but soon changed.’ The family nicknamed the twins ‘Darkie’ and ‘Fairy’ because Grace was dark-haired and Ivy was fair. ‘I detested the name Grace and I preferred Darkie,’ explained Grace. Throughout her life, Grace’s nickname continued despite the arrival of New Labour and political correctness. She died on 30 July 2007 at the age of 87 – in fact, all three sisters died within six months of each other. Daughter Jean said: ‘She was a wonderful mother and everyone loved her. She always looked on the good side of life and never complained. Even after a particularly difficult visit to hospital, she thanked me for taking her and said she’d had a lovely day.’
Darkie called Bill ‘Willie’ and was the only person to use that name. Their daughter Linda described their relationship: ‘I can see why she caught his eye when he lodged just up the road. You could tell they really loved each other and I think they were lucky to have each other.’ The marriage took place at St Mary’s Church, Lambsdown Road, Tottenham on 1 March 1942 during the groom’s short leave from his regiment, with no time for a proper honeymoon. He was 23 and she was 21. Tony McKenzie, one of Bill’s nephews, said: ‘Darkie was always laughing and joking. She idolised him and she was always there for him – a perfect wife for a football man. Years later I sometimes stayed with them and she did all the cooking and Bill did all the washing up. They were happy days.’
The Nicholsons rented two attic rooms in Farningham Road for a while before moving to Commonwealth Road just around the corner. Living next door was Ted Ditchburn, the Tottenham goalkeeper who was born in Gillingham and played 418 appearances between 1946 and 1958. He was two years older than Bill and was able to buy a swanky American car, which he nicknamed ‘the Dillinger’. The vehicle had running boards just like in the American gangster movies and, as Bill said, ‘It needed some handling.’ At the time Ditchburn had yet to pass his driving test.
It was eight years before Bill could afford his first car, a Morris series E. He didn’t really need one: he could walk to work each day. In the early days of their marriage, the Nicholsons would cycle to Epping Forest on Sundays. It was a regular ritual. Commonwealth Road was hardly more than a Ditchburn drop-kick from White Hart Lane and Linda said: ‘It was on the other side of the playing field behind the East Stand. Good job we grew up so close to the ground because we were able to see Dad at lunchtimes when we were in Coleraine Park Elementary School and later, when Tottenham County Grammar School was built. Sometimes fans knocked at the door and Dad was always very nice to them. Mostly I think they respected his privacy, though. We used to have budgerigars when we lived in Commonwealth Road and they spent a lot of time out of the cage. Later we adopted a stray cat. At first Dad didn’t want to bring her into the house, but he ended up fussing over the cat more than anyone else.’
Most football managers take new jobs and moving around the country is often a trial for wives and children alike. Bryan Hamilton, the former Northern Ireland manager who played and managed at Ipswich, Everton, Millwall, Swindon, Tranmere, Wigan, Leicester and Norwich, once said he moved house on 18 different occasions. Bill Nicholson was the exception. He lived at Farningham Road and Commonwealth Road between 1936 and 1958 before first renting and then purchasing his detached three-bedroom in Creighton Road, two years later. Bill and Darkie lived in an area just under a mile from White Hart Lane for their happy marriage of 62 years, and in their final two years, they lived in nearby Potters Bar – an incredible record.
Darkie was an expert seamstress and was proud of her achievement in passing the City and Guilds exam, which enabled her to teach Home Furnishings and Upholstery at Tottenham Technical College. With new clothes in short supply – clothing coupons were needed to obtain them – she customised garments with other bits of material, very make do and mend. Linda recalled: ‘In the War most people had to be strong characters because they never knew what was going to happen when they woke up the next day so they tried to make the best of everything and enjoy a simple life. I think that is a lesson for today’s generation.’
Interviewed by Hunter Davies for his highly praised work, The Glory Game, Darkie was quoted as saying: ‘We didn’t have much of a social life together but I am not moaning. I accept it all. I understand why he has got so much to do. He knows that he’s missed things. He would love to have been more of a family man because he loved his own family. Even though they didn’t have much, they were very happy. Who would have thought when he arrived as a boy from Yorkshire in 1936 that he would be lord of it all at Tottenham? He’s said many a time that there is only one job in football and that’s playing. When you finish playing,