In
January of this year at the monthly Memories Club held in the Garden Gate we were celebrating Harry Jepson OBE birthday, one of our old pal and ex Parksider, Ernest Anthony
Lundy came along to pay his respects and also make his debut at the Memories club. I was so happy to see him that I bought him a
pint, but just when I was handing it over to him, he fainted. Mark the landlord of the pub immediately came
to Ernie’s rescue and started giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation
after a couple of minutes Mark stopped and when he was asked why he had
stopped, Mark replied I not doing that again he’s getting an erection.

Why
do I tell you that, well I received the following email from Ernest?

Dear
Peter am pleased to report that, as you are no doubt aware, my recent visit to
the Garden Gate passed without incident, and I was able to remain compos mentis
for the time I was there. Although never a drinker I was able to enjoy a pint
of larger shandy while conversing with that old reprobate and raconteur, Jimmy
Brogden, who continues to amaze me and others, I suppose with his memory
retention, particularly about his playing days with his beloved Hunslet Club,
and Hunslet Carr. During the time we sat talking of our experiences in the
Mediterranean in wartime, I forgot to ask him what I thought would have been a
logical question which would have been: During your minesweeping days, Jimmy,
and with hundreds of sexually active Yanks and Matelots around in the Med, how
many used condoms did you sweep along with the mines?

We
did a few miles on the rugby pitch of various clubs in which he recounted what
could be called tales around the Sloans liniment (the substance feared by Alf
Burnell on training nights especially with Ted Carroll around) and the magic
sponge. That wonderful piece of equipment wielded by club masseur Mr Harrison.
Of whom Jimmy spoke enthusiastically; but I won’t reveal how.

Sitting through an afternoon of TV, apart from a win by Leeds United, the rest of the afternoon was ruined by what I thought to be of the worst exhibitions of rugby league football I have ever seen. A game completely without imagination, dour and so lacking in entertainment value, and with nothing to applaud, it was more surprising the stadium didn’t empty at half- time. The time to return to the old style rugby league, where players had their individual parts to play is long overdue. How it could be achieved? Your guess is as good as mine. But reports in the press and media confirm my view.

However, on to a different subject: During my long connection and brief appearances with the old club at Parkside in the past, I was always proud to wear a Hunslet RL lapel badge in the shape of a rugby ball on my coats or sweaters. Something I wore even during my army days. I wonder were they have all gone. Or are there still some around? It’s just a thought. But to have one as a school boy was the next best thing to wearing a jersey. I’ve searched high and low and been unable to find mine. No doubt lost somewhere along the years.

By the way a pleasant surprise was to discover that the new lady manager of the Garden Gate is a relation of mine, which brought to mine other memories of that of many a Hunslet player, Plevna. Where I also courted my late wife. Happy days.

Hope you got Jimmy home in time for him and his good lady to bake their round of Rhubarb pies. Hopefully, will see you all again soon. Ernie!

I am sure we will see you again Ernie and thank you for your letter.

When Jimmy was serving on the minesweeper I wonder if he sang:
WE’VE SWEPT THE SEAS BEFORE BOYS.

Ernest and Jimmy spinning a yarn at 2015 Hunslet Reunion.
Ernest posing in his army kit showing off his Hunslet RL supporters badge.
Well that’s what he tells me.

Jarvo