Scott Partridge and Archbishop Desmond Tutu

What's the connection?

I wrote something for a story telling event in Stokes Croft, Bristol on the theme of 'celebration'. The story was about someone who sang 'There's only one Scotty Partridge' at the Southern League winning celebration in 2007...but then it all got a bit out of hand.

At the end of the story I had to sing the song - solo, to a room of about 50 people. No problem...although I don't think anyone had seen a City shirt before.

Then I got them to sing the song too - but the audience didn't really know about Mr P. So I told them it worked with almost any two-syllable surname.
And to their credit, they all joined in with...'There's only one Desmond Tutu'.

WONDERLAND

It’s a party! And I haven’t been allowed to go a party for 8 and a half years.
My last party was in April 2007 and Bath City had just won the Southern League.

After some lean years, City were finally on the way up. There was hope, even on the days when we played **** and when the referee was obviously prone to masturbation. Much of this hope was down to a fast, thin and bald striker called Scott Partridge.

Scotty scored a hat-trick once to win an FA Cup tie. There was a mass chorus of the song that ruined my life. I sang my heart out and was taken to a higher plane…it was like I’d found God…with the number 10 shirt on his back. I worshipped every week and sang His hymn as often as I could.

Life just got better!

There was a huge party in 2007 after the last game of the season and we were crammed into the bar for video highlights, speeches and a bloody big drink. Each player was announced onto the stage and those that had their own songs, had their own songs sung at them.

And finally, it was Scotty’s turn.

I was one of the 500 people – boiling hot, elated and slightly pissed – that sang his song.
Scotty waved his arms and sang his song too.

I welled up with indescribable happiness – it was the best feeling in the world and I never forgot it.

Now…when I say I never forgot it, I mean I sang that song to myself on the bus home.
I sang it in my head as I dropped off to sleep that night and on first waking the next morning.
It was on the Champions DVD – recorded for all of time.

And when I needed it, which was quite often, I could play it to cheer me up.

It became a bit of a personal theme tune. I’d hum it without realising. It got on people’s nerves.
It came out at the most inappropriate of times – a sort of auto-response to extremes of emotion. When the dog got run over, I was found in the park where we used to go for walks, dragging his lead and singing out loud.

At my Nan’s funeral service, we sang Abide With Me, the Cup Final hymn and my brain had made the connection. So as the congregation sat down to pray, despite my girlfriend tugging at me, I burst into Scotty’s song.

Linda was embarrassed and getting a raw deal with me following the City home and away. But she was tolerant and understanding…until Valentine’s night.

I’d promised to make it up to her – we went to a posh country house for the night. Our romantic candle-lit meal cost more than my season ticket I’ll have you know…but I didn’t mention football or Scotty once. We drank pink champagne and after the petit fours, we went to our room and kissed, before shedding our clothes and slipping between the soft, silky sheets.

It was a very special night! There are obvious jokes about 45 minutes each way and changing ends at half-time but I am not going to cheapen the memory of something…beautiful. I was lost in the rhythm, our rhythm…although now you come you mention it, it did have a familiar beat. And as we reached our climax, in ecstasy and, you know fellas, with a degree of relief…I cried out her name.

‘Oh God, Oh yes, I love you Scotty’

Linda noticed and hit me, then cried and by breakfast, we were no longer an item.

I lost my job too, just as we won a big order from Japan. As it was announced by the Chief Exec, there was applause and back-slapping and one of the senior executives shouted: ‘Get in there, you beautiful bald bastard!’ Oops.

The descent was fast. The therapists called it a late-diagnosed something or other – a dysfunction, an illness. I lost the house and living on the streets meant you had to look after yourself ...so when I was woken that night...at 3am…how was I to know it was a copper? I was just defending myself.

I said sorry, but they sectioned me anyway.

It’s hard for me to talk about this. Some people in the hospital had real problems, not like me. There was a lot of bad stuff going on. A lot of bad stuff.

But I’m alright now. It’s taken a few years, but I’m cured. I passed the test – super Saturday at the Olympics and I’m fine. I’m out again. I have good days and bad days, but the medication keeps me on track.

I wanted to make tonight special, a real celebration.

So I stopped taking the tablets last week – so I could show you I’m OK without them.

I wanted to show you that I’m not mad, never have been. And I’m not cured, never will be.

I just wanted to share a few special words, to the tune of Winter Wonderland.
And to give you all the chance to be as happy as I am.

Feel free to join in…
‘There’s only one Scotty Partridge
One Scotty Partridge
We’re walking along
Singing a song
Walking in a Scotty Wonderland’

wow

Brilliant! Publish!

Amazing read! I'm so glad you're on the way to a full recovery.

I need help with a similar incident involving a nightclub in Grimsby called 'gypsy tears'', a famous FA cup win and a popular song about 'doing the b*stards over'

Keep taking the tablets James.
Scotty was at the Grimsby game btw

We need more stuff like this in the programme notes.  Good writing about football (including the great Scotty Partridge) is just, well, good writing. Get in there. Jane Austen would have loved Twerton Park (her favourite Bath place was Sydney Gardens for music and fireworks, and Twerton is most obviously the modern equivalent). Though we could do with a few more fireworks on the pitch - good luck to the boys for Tuesday's FA Cup replay. Please don't do a Larkhall.

If I published this in the programme I'd have complaints galore. Not faulting the writing, just not quite the content which could be printed!

Anyway, Tuesday's programme has just been sent across. If we have another home replay this season I'm tempted to come up with something similar to a Somerset Cup game. Thank to the contributors for making my life a lot easier.

Publish and be damned?

I'll think about it.

Done thinking - still no. Perfect for forum, not perfect for programme.

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