Getting a girls home number. Ringing up a lass, talking to her mum and giving it the full ‘Yes Mrs Patterson, no Mrs Patterson, thank you Mrs Patterson’ sketch. Clarks desert boots. Les Ferdinand. Waiting outside the bookies for your old man. Injury time winners. Tossing it off at work on a Friday. Immaculately ironed shirts. Mum doing Sunday night picky tea. Lasses from school popping into your head during sex. Your older brother always looking out for you. Getting excited when you first started going out. School disco slow dances. The summer of '76. Your 83 year old Gran saying she couldn’t fancy an old man. Small milk bottles, partly frozen, with blue straws at school, temporary classrooms freezing cold us all in coats doing class-work, lollipop man safely getting us across the road, fag hanging out of his gob, walking through the field for a short cut on top of frozen puddles, Kevin Keegan’s perm, Argentina 78 theme music. Dad home from work for second half, bursting through the door - what’s the score? Getting a snorkel coat like Kenny from South Park, initially affronted, but then feeling warm as toast for the first time in winter because of it. The Stranglers on TOTP. First hard on for Blondie, mums club books with real women in underwear, Thatcher winning against the Argies, and the hunger strikers, riots. Money for the tuck shop Monday. The taste of Guinness. Listening to John Peel on my transistor radio. Austin Maxi's - our first brand new cars. First bike, space invaders, winning goldfish by chucking ping pong balls into jars. Shaving and not knowing what to do. Pints with your old man and Granda, celebrating your 18th in the boozer you'd been drinking in for two years. Bunking off school at every release date of a new Stranglers album down to Musicore in Durham. Klute nightclub. Subbuteo tournaments on the front room carpet. The choking, suffocating, self-loathing feeling of not being able to work up the courage to ask that girl out. Realising your lad is a chip off the old block. The simple pleasure of masturbating furiously at fourteen. Strangled magazine. The implausibly wonderful football Newcastle United played under Kevin Keegan, and the inevitable futility of it. Black clothes. The utter joy at your pup seeing snow for the first time and going bonkers. The excitement of power cuts in the '70's as a 12year old. Your Granda's pipe smoke, Nice biscuits. The first brew of the day. School being shut for the weather. Getting a man of the match award, playing right back, even though you got humped 6 - 3. Marlboro cigarettes and my zippo doing the sparking. Yorkshire pudding. Playing the Raven through headphones at midnight in February.