oinkuhzfpu

George was a runner. A quarter-miler. One of the best.

His club, South London Harriers, wrote to his RAF Commanding Officer to explain that George was an athlete. George was put in charge of the squadrons athletic team.

George won the London Championship and his County Championship. But a muscle sprain and an uncomfortable night, trying to sleep on a hard wooden floor, probably cost him the All England Championship at Bath in 1949. George came second.

His hand-crafted running spikes sit beside me in my study.

George was a boxer.

From the time I was a young boy, we used to spar together. Hed be pretty gentle until Id catch him off guard with a punch. Then hed really show me how to do it!

His boxing gloves hang in my study.

George loved tennis.

His old wooden tennis rackets were put to good use when we used them to practice badminton in the back garden. Once Id learnt to control a heavy tennis racket, using a lightweight badminton racket seemed easy.

One of those old rackets stands in the corner.

George taught me to run and to swim. To cycle and to play chess. We joined a badminton club. We played squash and Monopoly. Holidays were spent playing cricket, learning to row and flying kites. We queued up for hours in the cold and the rain to get tickets to see Sutton United play Leeds in the 4th round of the FA Cup. I sat on his knee to watch Henry Cooper knock down Muhammed Ali. We revelled in England winning the World Cup. And my first attempts at golf were with George.

When my children were small it seemed perfectly natural to enjoy sport with them too. Cycling, running, football, netball, badminton, tennis, rugby, swimming; not to mention endless indoor games. Whilst other children were hanging around the streets, mine were too busy training and looking after themselves.

Sport and sportsmanship is ingrained in our lives thanks to George.

Yesterday, I was with George when he was diagnosed as suffering from cerebral atrophy. We didnt understand exactly what the doctor was telling us but a leaflet with the tablets she prescribed said Alzheimers.

George and I are lucky. Were into extra time and were going to play this game the way it should be played. Right up to the final whistle.

I love you Dad.