How do you cram 44 years of memories into a few minutes about your Dad, well you can't, so I want to share my earliest and fondest memories and a few funny moments of dad with you.

My earliest memories were generally doing activities with him. Playing chess, or snooker, teaching me to ride my bike, going swimming every weekend or letting me sit on his lap and steering the car – I felt like king of the world, he always made me feel like that.

I remember how every morning Dad used to leave very early for work, but I would always wake up and we’d wave to each other as he drove off.

There was the daily battle between him and my cat Gus, where every morning Gus would find a way to escape the kitchen and run to his safe haven of my bed. Dad knew the moment he snuggled up next to me, there was no getting him back until I had to leave for school.

And every evening Gus would be at the front door patiently waiting for Dad to return from work.

He was amazing with all the various pets we had over the years.

Of course a big part of our life was football.

From my very first game for Headley under 6’s, I can’t recall him ever missing a game I played – at least until I could drive! And even then he came to most games.

He was incredibly supportive of most things I did, but he devoted a lot of his time for my football – even when one day I said I wanted to join Mychett, which was a good 45-minute drive from home, he was 100% behind me, but those years gave us some of our best memories and lead to where I felt Dad was most proudest of me, being scouted to play for Aldershot and scoring on my debut – a winner I might add! I ran over to Dad in the stands and could see he was crying. I know the boy did good that day.

One game we were a bit late and Dad was motoring it down the then brand new A331, when up popped the blues and twos and over we were pulled.

The policeman asked why we were in such a hurry, and Dad explained we were late for a cup match, the nice policeman took one look at me in my kit and commented he was sad to be missing his son’s match today and said  “let’s call it 99” much to dads relief!

Dad said never to tell Mum that we were going 140 – I guess I can now.

And when I wasn’t playing or he wasn’t coaching or running the line like he so often did, we had season tickets at Pompey. Every game we’d stop at the tuck box in Grayshott and he’d give me a couple of quid to fill up on penny sweets to take to the game. 

My most cherished memories were our infamous cup run in the 91 season, we went to every game, home & away.  This was long before the internet and I remember he took a day off work to queue up overnight to get tickets for one of the games – this typified dad, he’d do anything for his kids.

And my most recent footballing memory with Dad was taking him to his beloved Spurs for his 80th which so many of you here helped to make happen – thank you so much, it was an unforgettable day, topped off with a birthday message scrolling across the stadium at half time.

It wasn’t just football though, it was every sport, he rarely missed any of my tennis matches, came to all my district sports athletics races, he was pretty much always there when I needed him.

Whilst I was away travelling, I occasionally used to call home – this was long before I even had a mobile phone, so I would usually be in a phone box in the middle of the night due to the time difference. I remember when speaking to Dad he always sounded a bit rough and he said he was just suffering from a cold. 

A few days after I got back a year later, mum explained to me that it wasn’t a cold, and in fact cancer, but he didn’t want to ruin my trip so refused to tell me – I was so angry that he didn’t tell me, but looking back now I really appreciate what he did. 

We had a very close relationship, as we worked together for more than 25 years. Although it had its moments, we generally worked well together – but only after he eventually agreed to do things my way!

One evening, after collecting Charlie and me from a night out as ‘taxi Dad’ did so often,  he told us the story about his stag party, which was the night before Mum & Dad’s wedding, and how he couldn't remember where he parked the car after driving himself home! Thank God he didn’t pass this trait down to me eh?

Or the time he passed out in the bathroom and Mum had to climb through the window to save him.

He was a stubborn bug…bloke too. A perfect example was when he bought his first-ever suit in London, he noticed there was a thread coming from it, so he went back and asked them to repair it, to which they refused. So he then stood outside the shop the entire day showing the poor workmanship to all potential customers until they agreed to give him a refund!

One of my funniest memories was at Lindsay's wedding, where after the wedding we were packing things away in our cars to take back to Rozeldene and Dad told me, in no uncertain terms, to wait for him to come back and he’d drive me & Jonny home, as I’d had a couple of shandy’s.

But me being my father's son, totally ignored him and drove back the fast route – along Whitmore Vale – for those of you who don’t know this road I’ll describe it as my cousin once did – When going with mum it's the bumpy road but when you go with Dad it's the BUMPY road!!!!

So me and Jonny arrived back at Rozeldene, safe & sound, just before Dad, but it was too late he’d clocked us and duly gave me a rollicking before opening the boot to help carry the stuff into the house. As we opened the boot, I’d forgotten the wedding cake, or what once was a wedding cake, was in the boot, it had literally exploded. 

Dad was not a happy chappy, it didn’t help that Jonny & I couldn’t contain our laughter. So mum, whilst I remember – let's make sure we don’t put Dad's urn in the boot on the way back!

Of course, the last few years have been very tough, but even those had their moments.

One afternoon Mum & Dad had arranged to meet some friends for lunch.
On their arrival they bumped into a couple of friends by what they thought was pure coincidence.

It quickly dawned on Mum that they got their friends mixed up and it was in fact this couple who they were supposed to be meeting. Dad wasn’t so quick to realise…. “what a coincidence, what are you doing here?” He said. This was duly met with nudge from Mum! It took a few further nudges until he realised, bless him.

As his dementia got worse, Dad later referred to Mum as ‘Mum’, it was almost like a safe word for him. One afternoon there was a knock at the door, Dad answered and a nice chap greeted him with “Hi I'm here for the gas”. As Dad now did in all these situations, he yelled for ‘Mum’; Mum…Mum….  – the look on the gas man's face was a real picture, he must have thought he had walked into the Adams Family home.

On a few rare occasions, he referred to Mum with his nickname for her;  Noddy, with that cheeky glimmer in his eyes which reminded us of the Dad of old.

Since his passing, we’ve received so many lovely messages from old friends & clients, some of whom he hadn’t spoken to in years. He was a genuinely really liked and respected man. 

He was an amazing Dad who I loved to bits and a devoted husband and father, who would do anything for his family.

I’ll always miss you Dad, and going to the football without you, just won’t be the same.