Bill Nicholson. Brian Scovell
spent up on the Yorkshire moors with a picnic near Goathland, always in the same spot.
‘After he became a famous football manager, Bill tolerated having his picnic food presented on a paper plate on such occasions, but we all knew that he would rather have had it sitting at a decent dining table with a knife and fork. Evenings were often spent in the family home, where his older sister Edie continued to live. They played cards for pennies and Edie kept the change in an old tobacco tin. We were creatures of habit.’
Bill Nicholson was a late starter in ‘proper’ football – at the age of seven, he was presented with a rubber ball by a relative. It was 1926, the year of the General Strike. Jimmy Greaves said of his youth in east London: ‘If you had your own ball, you were the king.’ Similarly, Bill was captain in kickabout matches, usually played in narrow passages between back-to-back houses or on the hilly slopes around Scarborough. Two skippers tossed up – one had a stone hidden in a hand behind his back and asked ‘Heads or tails?’ The boy who won the toss always picked to play down the hill.
Every day they played on until it was almost dark. In those times, they made up their own rules and the strongest and keenest ended up on the winning side. There were no organised games for youngsters that age and later on, when the older boys were invited to attend clubs, coaches were scarce so these early practice sessions helped them to master the ball.
Amazingly, Bill never played senior football in the Scarborough League, only junior football. And the ground where he played organised football, Falsgrave Park, was on a slope with a drop of more than 30ft from one side to the other and unsuited to any activity except perhaps kite-flying. Frank White, a former footballer and now administrator, recalled: ‘There was always a shortage of flat land in the town and Falsgrave, which is close to the reservoir, now has big white stones around it like Stonehenge. I think motorcyclists used it and that was probably the reason why they put the stones there.’
Children’s entertainer Ron Anderson, who was born in the same year as Bill, said of him: ‘I wasn’t much of a footballer but one day the team was short and I played, and I soon recognised that he was much better than anyone else in the team. He was brilliant. I thought then he could be a professional.’
Bill admitted to not being an academic but after gaining above-average marks at the Gladstone Road Primary School, he was awarded a scholarship to the Scarborough Boys’ High School at the age of 11. He was soon chosen as a centre half for the U14 side. Despite not being very tall, he was able to jump higher than most of his opponents and was more determined to reach the ball first. Geoff Hillarby, one of his nephews, recalled: ‘The High School had a very good record and had some exceptional teachers. Bill could have gone on with his education, but I think he wanted to go into football. He was a very educated man.’ His daughter Linda adds: ‘He was very good at maths.’
Doreen Procter, a family friend whose brothers knew Bill well, spoke of his almost copperplate writing on Christmas cards. ‘He wrote beautifully and I still have a letter from him,’ she said. ‘I also have one of his autographs. Today’s footballers make a scrawl and you can’t read it. Bill always took time to write his autograph so as people could read it. He was a very kind man and never forgot his family and friends.’
Eddie Wright, who met Bill occasionally around White Hart Lane, remembers: ‘He always had time to talk to you about the club. The last time I met him was in 2004, in the car park inside the ground. I had my Double winning autographs with me and wanted him to sign. Although he had difficulty in writing, he stuck at it and it took about ten minutes to do it. God bless him, he eventually finished it. I have collected many autographs over the years, but this one will stay in my family forever.’
Bill’s nephew Tony McKenzie said: ‘He had the shakes towards the end and he would apologise for not giving an autograph but would say, “What about a shake of the hand instead?” and people thought that was wonderful.’
In the 1930s the leaving age for the High School was 14, but Bill stayed on for almost a year before starting work. He wasn’t selected for the district side because he was still playing for his school, and he had to travel to similar institutions in faraway towns and cities such as York, Hull, Whitby and Malton. At this stage, he had never travelled beyond Scarborough and the boys had to pay their own fares. A match would usually cost a few shillings and one day his mother told him she couldn’t afford it. The man who organised the team, C.B. Bradley, paid his fare. Bill bought his first pair of boots from the proceeds of his paper round and he knew they would have to last a long time. He repaired them himself, hammering away on his father’s last in the stable.
Not having matriculated, he was forced to accept a menial job on leaving school: drying the clothes in the Alexandra Laundry for a weekly wage of £2. A photo taken of 16-year-old Bill has survived and it shows a serious young man with his arms crossed, wearing a tie and an apron, his sleeves rolled up ready for a hard day’s work. He looked mature and older than his years. At that point, he hadn’t considered a serious career and certainly not being a famous footballer.
Another character who loved football came into his life around this time: a dentist called Herbert Basil Jones, who ran the Young Liberals FC team, which played on Saturdays. No one in the Nicholson family admitted to supporting a political party but Bill fancied the yellows and he would soon become their best player. According to Ron Anderson: ‘The man who recommended him to have a trial with Tottenham was Albert Hollowood, who worked with me at Mr Jones’s working-class dental practice as a dental mechanic. He came from Tottenham and was a Spurs fan.’
Early in March 1936, a letter written with a pencil dated 29 February and signed by Ben Ives, Tottenham’s chief scout, arrived at 6 Quarry Mount in Scarborough – the family had moved from Vine Street – addressed to Mr and Mrs Nicholson:
Dear Sir or Madam,
This morning I have had a letter from Mr Jones re: your boy. I was very sorry I could not see you on Tuesday last week when I met your son and Mr Jones. He and I had a good chat with him and I expect you are awaiting a letter from me. I should put your mind at rest as regards to the welfare of your son. At present we have about 20 boys of his age and we get them good lodgings with personal friends of mine. Mr Jones will put him on the night train at York and I shall meet him at King’s Cross, or should Mr Nicholson like to bring him down himself, he would be welcome. The boy seems to be very bright and I am sure he will get on here and in any case, I trust you realise that he must have a far greater chance of making headway in London than elsewhere.
Steve Bell, Bill’s son-in-law, treasures that letter.
Years later, Bill admitted that he had no recollection of the meeting with the dark-haired, handsome Ives. ‘My parents had never seen me play,’ he said. ‘They knew I was keen, but they had no idea whether I was any good or not. We weren’t even sure where Tottenham was.’ In those days, agents as such hadn’t been invented and with his father unable to take the day off to travel with him to London, Mr Jones accompanied him to York and put him on the overnight train to London. The shy young man found his way down to the London Underground and made his first trip in the tube, getting out at Manor House before changing to an omnibus that took him up the High Road to White Hart Lane, where the main stand was still being built.
Bill’s great adventure had begun. He had come from the far end of England, he had no video to show off his skills to a prospective boss, no letters of recommendation, nothing except a mysterious letter of recommendation from a man he had never met or even heard of. As Steve Bell observed: ‘You can’t see a boy, barely 17, travelling alone on a journey like that today. He was a very single-minded young man.’
Tottenham offered him a month’s trial and he performed so well that he stayed with Spurs, a club he knew only vaguely, for 59 years as a player, coach, manager and consultant and ended up as the club’s President.