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Nick's  Notes

"Nick's Notes" will offer a little something different every
time. I will discuss or share a topic and elaborate on it. You will
never know what angle, opinion or spin I'll take on whatever the topic is. From time to time I may even wander outside the Darlington 88 organizaton and delve into other topics surrounding the game of  football. But I'll always be talking about the game or matters concerning the world's number one sport. "Nick's Notes" will sometimes take a stand on certain issues. I may find myself just simply rambling on about the boys or something that recently happened to the club. You just never know what to expect next, in "Nick's Notes." 

When I Was A Boy /Some Things Never Change October 16, 2002

     I remember many years ago now when I was a young boy in London, England. My father and I were regulars at White Hart Lane. That was the Maple Leaf Gardens(I guess I should now say the ACC) for the Tottenham Hotspur Premier League soccer team in my home town. Season's tickets  did not exsist in those days so it was first come first serve. We were lining up every Saturday afternoon to make sure we got in for the game of the week. One week it was Manchester United. Another week mayby Liverpool or Newcastle. It was a different colour and a different chant week after week. Anyway, I remember those days as if it were just yesterday. I remember the final day of the season very well.

   I remember tugging on my father's arm all the way back home, and crying all the way home right into the house. It was over! The season was all over! No more footy for a long, long time! I was devastated and did not understand that one day very soon when the weather changes it will be back to White Hart Lane again. I did not understand any of that though. I cried and cried until I fell asleep.

   Why, just the other day(well it's been 6 weeks now) I can remember leaving the Hydros for the last time for this past 2002 Outdoor  Season. Kyle was sitting next to me so I decided not to reminisce out loud anyway. So I drove away from the Hydros as there was not a person in sight. I was the last one to leave that night. I guess it was deliberate. I looked back in my rear-view  mirror as I drove up Solina Road away from the pitches and I  remembered tugging on my father's arm way back when.

   I looked over at Kyle and noticed a grin from ear to ear and it was just then that I knew everything was going to be just fine. It was right then that I realized that I would be back as soon as the weather broke in the Spring. I knew it would all be good again and back to normal. I didn't even know at the time if he would be back. However, one thing is definitely certain though- you could never keep me away. I'm a season ticket holder.

   Have a safe and happy autumn everyone and remember to look out for each other.

   A story needed to be told...and I told it.

Nick's Christmas Message

You're Never Alone                    December 24, 2002

      It was still. The snow outside was gently falling as the moon-lit sky opened up. One could hear a pin drop. It was midnight and the church bells from inside the town echoed out into the out-skirts where our quaint home was situated.

   All the children were tucked in and fast asleep. My wife- an angel at rest. The clock on the mantle chimed in the new day as Christmas had arrived just then.

   I turned down the blinds. He blew out the candle for me. He motioned to the television so I reached over and turned off Dickens. I made my way upstairs and I felt his very escence all over my back and neck. As I turned to say sweet dreams, no one was there. The chill up my spine chased me down the hall and into my bed. I closed my eyes and he said to me, "Have a glorious sleep and enjoy your holiday season with your loved ones. I am here."

   I opened up my eyes and caught the shadows and images on the ceiling. It was dark. It was still. It was Christmas and I was not alone.

   Have a happy holiday season and may the New Year bring all you 88's  a healthy and prosperous 2003. God Bless you all.

   Merry Christmas, "A story needed to be told...and I told it."

Yours Sincerely, 88 Manager, Nick Harris

Not A Hair Out Of Place, Not A Boot Untied   July 9, 2003

   I was sitting down along the old wooden fixture which I have cleverly named the "Wall" from all of our 88 halftime and post game chats. I have this real annoying habit of having to name things all the time. Well, I was sitting on the wall taking in the beautiful day sipping on my Large-Double-Double(Gary bought it for me) when all of a sudden it appeared just over the massive hill to the East. The Hydros as everyone knows are suncken down in a picturesque valley with farmer's fileds complete with hail stacks to the West and a huge hill, almost foothill/mountain-like, ominously situated to the East. Well, all of a sudden high above ground level way above the playing fields appeared the most awesome and ominous sight to behold. 

   At first I was a little bit scared. I was not quite sure what to expect. It reminded me of that breath-taking yet eerie scene in the classic Zulu  film where all of a sudden over this massive ridge aappeared no less than 2,000 Zulu warriors all chanting and raving as they tapped their spears on their shields. It was  just like that minus the spears and shields. I could hear the rumbling of something in the distance and as it drew nearer I realized it became more evident as to what it was. It was as if the very ground beneath my feet was moving. The sound was incredible.  Just at that moment I could see dust rising over the ridge. As the sound grew louder I noticed more dust and felt as if I would see this magnificent spectacle at any moment now.

   Quiet.....Dead quiet.....You could hear a pin drop.....Even the birds to the East stopped and the tractors to the West shut down. The wind was gone and the clouds motionless as just at that very moment as I glanced up to the top of the hill which over-looked Hydro 2 and Hydro 3  I saw the most breath-taking sight I have ever seen in my life. Could it be yet another wonder of the world? Wll this very thing go down in history as another of the world's greatest curiosities? There it was. It was high above the pitches looking down on me and everything else that stood still. Never...ever...had I ever witnessed anything like that in all my life. I just simply sat on the wall and looked up at it for 5 minutes without saying a single word with my mouth wide open.

   The dust had settled and it was very clear as it stood high above the ground looking down right into my eyes making sure I knew it was there. I had heard rumblings of this over the past couple of months but took no heed. I knew it was close but thought it would never happen...not here...not now.

   There they stood. 16 ominous figures all outfitted in blue and white gear ready for battle. Boots were tied. Short strings drawn. Shirt tails tucked in. There they were. Sixteen 88's all together in one perfect straight line. Not a hair out of place. Not a boot untied; not a single bag undone.

   They had arrived. They were here to stay and nothing....and I mean nothing would ever drive them away.  They meant business and no one or no thing was going to get in their way until they reached the top of the Regional tables. Now, it was the most incredible experience I had ever seen in all my life but now I was left with an even bigger  undertaking. I had more than I could handle on this day. I had my work cut out for me now.

   How in God's name was I ever gonna tell them that it was Sunday afternoon and I was just taking in the view with my coffee. They did not play until Tuesday night under the lights. Now, would you tell these 16 warriors that they were too early and had to go back home? Would you tell them that no opponent was going to show....and not show for two days at that?

   I looked over at the sixteen 88's as they now shared that very same wall with me and it was right then that I realized everything would be fine.  I had an out and someone from up above was looking over me at that very moment. Jeremy had reached into his bag and pulled out that ever-so-familiar magazine from the Peterborough Tournament. I could now breathe for all my problems were solved for a couple of days anyway. That should keep them busy for a while. I just had to get on my cell phone and call Coach to see if he could bring over 16 blankets and bug spray.

   On a more serious note.....just ask any team that plays these 88's if there is much humour to be found on the pitch. These 88's have indeed arrived to Regional and will give any opponent a run for their money now. A story needed to be told.....and I told it.

Remembrance Day Message          November 11, 2003

Little Wind-Up Soldiers Mounted On Their Benches

 Little wind-up soldiers mounted on their benches,

Gangrene bodies, rotting in the trenches.

Little red men with crosses on their shirts,

Picking up the bodies from underneath the dirt.

   I was 9 years old and I won an award. That was just one paragraph out of 6 where I wrote about the war for a Remembrance Day writing contest. I believe my Mother still has that somehere amidst the dust and archives. Anyway, please allow me just a few lines to explain where I gathered my info and incredible insight from a 9-year old.

   The young man left boot camp with his mates. Now his brothers in arms. Now his soul mates on the front lines of reality.  It was a firm landing straight into the thick of things...harm's way. It was the worst place in the world but someone had to do it. As a matter of fact....many...several....hundreds...thousands...would never come home again. Why did this young man pretend to be older than he really was? Why would any human being want to enlist and partake in anything like this? He wondered that himself but it was now far too late for insight and reasoning.

   It was just before dawn when the Germans attacked. It was a nightmare. Every single one of his platoon were brutally killed and the majority burned alive by flame-throwers right in front of his eyes. He too, was injured badly, but not killed. It was friendly fire. He took bullets to his foot, leg and arms. He passed out from the shock and pain. The Germans came by when the sun rose and placed the dead bodies up in a pile preparing them for take-away. His body was one of hundreds on that pile. But he was alive. He played dead. He did not move. He was still. He did not breath until all was clear. Hours had passed and eventually British and Welsh troops came by and picked up belongings, letters, medals and weapons.  It was then that the young infantryman raised his bloody hands in aid of rescue.

   He was saved and sent over to Holland where he convalesced and eventually would walk again. Not only would he walk again...he would go on to play a professional soccer career, get married and have his own family of five children. That man still lives to this day and resides in a modest home in the quiet surroundings at Rice Lake in Roseneath, Ontario. That man is 75 years old today and in good health. That man goes by the name of Victor James Harris. That man is my father.

   Please, I ask you all. It only takes a mere second out of the day. Let's take time on November 11th to remember those who gave us our tomorrow. 

Remembrance Day, 2003. "A story needed to be told...and I told it."

Nick's Christmas Message

'Twas The Night Before Christmas       December 23, 2003

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the clubhouse,

Not an 88 was stirring, not even a mouse.

The soccer boots were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Coach would stop yelling at Air.

The 88's were nestled all snug on their bench,

While visions of three points danced in their heads.

And Sherry in her kerchief and Vince in his cap,

Had just settled down with Boych Shake and Knapp.

When out on the pitch there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bench, that's hard when you're fatter.

Away to the sideline I flew like a flash,

Tore my pants,  threw up my sausage and mash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen pitch,

Gave the lustre of mid-day to the 88's below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But an OYSL team, from Darlington or near.

With a little old keeper, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it was Spidey said Nick.

More rapid than eagles his courses they came,

And he whistled and shouted, and called them by name.

Now, Squeegy! Now Scotty! Now Kyle and Chrissy,

On Geoffrey! On Fezz! On Greggors and Mikey.

To the top of the box! They would lunge at the ball,

Now kick away, kick away, kick away all.

They spoke not a word, and went straight to the bench,

And there sat Peanut and the new guy called French.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up from the bench, Vano arose.

Coach sprang to his feet, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all went, like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he walked out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, see you in OYSL, aight!

   I came downstairs this morning and the sweet aroma of fresh mince meat drew me into the kitchen. I saw Gill and my Mom sitting at the table sharing stories, morning brew and each other. My father was sitting on the couch watching fire grow in the fireplace. He was miles away. I gather it was 1963 in London, England as my fireplace became his, 40 years ago. Liam sat by the tree predicting what was inside parcels and packages under the pines. Justin was last-minute wrapping while Kyle waited for me to return back to the chess board. He's still not 100% yet so it was an excellent opportunity to take full advantage of his slow thought process...."Checkmate!"

   The sights and sounds could only mean one thing. It was indeed the Holiday Season and we were all together under one roof, safe and sound. I have only one Christmas Message that I would like to pass on to all my 88's and families.

                  "GOD  BLESS  US,  EVERYONE."

               "A story needed to be told...and I told it."

More Memories For Life's Rich Tapestry    February 1, 2004

    It was a whirlwind week of ups and downs but the truth of it all...there were no ups to be found. It was all downs and then some. It was hectic, consuming and horrible. The sun came up but as each and every hour ticked by it became darker and darker and darker. The phone did not stop ringing and then the doorbell began. Friends and family began showing up and during the first 24 hours of horror, preparations and planning had to be done. It was too sudden and nothing...absolutely nothing had been done. It was as if I was walking around in someone else's body; going through the motions and just existing. It was the longest 6 days of my life. The front door opened and then it closed. Then it opened again. Then it closed again. People came and people went but it made no difference whatsoever. It just got worse.

   The Wake came...and it went. Then that devastating day was next. Still to this day, I have no idea who was walking, talking and thinking in my body on that day. It was a day that I barely remember. It was that ugly Funeral that I will never forget. The next day was a day of thought. I did not speak a word to anyone that day. I just sat and stared out the window all day. I was tired, depressed and not hungry. The Wake had come and gone. The Funeral had come and gone. The friends stopped calling. The family members all returned back to their own respected lives and families. Everyone was gone. And I mean everyone...

   It was day 7. It was one week ago when it all began. Now, everything had changed. It was quiet. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was still. This was my worse day ever. It hit me. And it hit me all at once. I never shed a tear over the entire ordeal. I remained strong and supportive for everyone. I was a rock. Well, that rock was now a pathetic, tiny, insignificant grain of sand. I was a mess and there was not a soul around to pick me up. It did not matter because I wanted no help. Don't phone. Do not email. Do not ring my bell. Do not contact me in any way whatsoever. Go away!

   I slept through day 8. I slept through day 9 and on day 10 I found the energy to pop the kettle on. Come to think of it, I never did have that cup of whatever. Day 11 was the day that I began to stroll around the house opening and closing cold, heavy doors with empty rooms.

   I sat in his chair. It felt so nice. If he could see me now he would say, "Hey, move it now." I left his chair and proceeded to the kitchen where I finally had that cup of tea. As I poured my tea I had his smell from the chair all over me. It was nice. Tomorrow was day 11 and it was my first day mixing with others. My brother is coming over and we are going ice-fishing. My Father and I went fishing all the time. It was our favourite thing we did alone and no one shared our moments. I pulled out his old tackle box and inside it was exactly how he left it. It was a disaster with hooks, weights, lures and fishing lines all mixed up together. It took me well over an hour to put it back to normal. It felt so great touching all his things again.  The best part was dumping the box upside down again and putting it all back the way he liked it.

   I went to bed that night and it was the first proper night's sleep I had in almost two weeks. I woke up in the morning and gathered up my fishing gear. My brother came and we left for the day. We fished and we fished and we fished all day long until the night drew in and it was too cold to fumble with our lines. We went home. My brother left and I closed the front door and sat back down in my father's chair.

   It was midnight and I now could not remember whether it was day 7 or day 8 or day 9; or whatever day it may be. It no longer mattered. I was sitting in his chair, holding his old tackle box, drinking out of his old cup, watching his old TV.  I turned the TV off and made my way upstairs. I got undressed, turned over in my bed and went to sleep. Tomorrow was another day. It would be another day of living. It would be another day filled with ups and downs. Surely there would be plenty of ups and very few downs. As a matter of fact I had this sneaky suspicion that it would be a day filled with ups. It would be a day filled with more memories for life's rich tapestry. And it's all those beautiful and glorious memories we have with loved ones that unfortunately make us all hurt and mourn when they are gone.

"A story needed to be told...and I told it."

It Has A Real Nice Ring To It

Monday, September 13, 2004

   It was a normal drive up the #115 into the Kawarthas just like it was a regular season match at Eastgate verses Boro. We played rap music while zoning out for the drive there. We were all very nervous and had no idea how it was all going to unfold. I peeked into the rear view mirror and noticed Kyle staring out the window. Mikey was deep in thought while Knappy sat beside me looking forward out the front window scoring a beauty from the spot at Wembley Stadium in front of thousands. I was deep in thought thinking about the game over and over in my head. We arrived at Eastgate and the lads made their way to the pitch. I saw Thade waiting for them as I over heard Spidey asking someone about the drive. Well, we were at Eastgate and ready for a 90 minute battle except one thing was very odd to say the least...we were all in dress clothes looking on from the bleachers. We were spectators taking in the game of games on the night of nights which involved the Peterborough City Knights and the York Jets. This was for first place overall and a possible birth into the OYSL. It was obvious how we wanted this brawl to end. We needed a draw or a Boro victory. York cannot and must not win if we want to advance into OYSL.  

   I'm not going to hold anyone in suspense for much longer and I will save you the agony and jump right to the chase. The opening whistle sounded and an obscene arsenal of antics and man-made mischief fell upon deaf ears. The York Jets tried it all on. I had never witnessed anything like that before. First there were the ejected parents...then the diving and fouling...then the fog and mysterious mist from lands unknown...then the ejected coach...then this and then that. It was a disgrace to the FIFA body. York just kept pulling trick after trick and stunt after stunt right out in front of everybody embarassing themselves and their lads. They knew it was OYSL on the line and every parent on the sideline and in the bleachers realized that a win had to take place and nothing less. Well, like I just said...the final whistle sounded and a handful of Darlington 88's stood with mouths wide open not really knowing what to say or do. I picked myself up from the bleachers and made my way over to the van that donned a Darlington 88 logo on the back end. 

   I looked at my 88's and quietly asked them to get into the van as I wanted to get home in a hurry because I promised I would relay the news to Vince ASAP. It was that same quiet drive home after every game where the music takes over the very van and we all go into suspended animation for 40 minutes through the streets with no names.

   I dropped all the lads off and took Kyle and myself back to a dark and retired home at almost midnight. I walked upstairs and shared the events of the evening with Gill as she waited up for our news. Everyone knew it was Monday night at Eastgate with OYSL on the line. Why I expected a call from the Prime Minister any second? I shared a few minutes with my wife then walked downstairs and took up at my seat by my desk. I punched in the Bonazza number and made that call I knew had to come at some point. Oh, we spoke for quite some time and then I realized it was time to update the site and let everyone in on the news of the decade. So, I began and it went something like this.....

   A story needed to be told...and I told it. Once upon a time in a land the local hicks called Darlington there lived a small-town team that funny enough went by the name Darlington 88's. Well, this team strived to become the best in all the land and someday promised everyone that they would be the very best in the land. Well, many years passed and many faces came and went but the majority of happy faces kept slugging it out year after year after year. Well, finally one magical night in the month of September in the year of 2004 this Darlington 88 team had a chance to advance into the greatest soccer league in the world called the OYSL. Well, to make a long-winded fairy tale gone Springer come to fruition...that same Darlington 88 team had their entire future put into the hands of two other rival teams called the York Jets and Peterborough City Knights. It all came down to one game. It all came down to a single game of soccer to decide whether or not this Darlington 88 team would be granted permission to enter the forbidden land known as the OYSL. The game was played and the balance of the future for the Darlington 88's jockeyed back and forth in the end result.

   Oh, it was a story that will be told for years to come. All of our grandchildren will be exchanging stories about the trials and tribulations from the Darlington 88's who held their entire soccer future endeavours into the outcome of one sole game at Eastgate in the year of 2004.

   Anyway, sorry about the ranting and raving and the carrying on but I must wind things up now as I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.  So, in closing I would like to take this final opportunity to thank each and everyone of you for once again letting me be a part of all your lives and having this glorious opportunity at being part of your child's dreams which brings me to one final comment that I just keep forgetting to let you in on.....

The score from tonight's game at Eastgate was Boro 1 vs York 0.

   "Ladies and gentlemen. May I please have your full attention for just one quick second. I would like to take this brief moment and thank each and everyone of the Darlington 88's for visiting the CSL League even though it was not a permanent stay. I would like to wish you all the best and good luck to each and everyone of you as you have now successfully graduated and more importantly, earned a new, fresh start as the new kids on the block in the greatest soccer league imaginable. Well done lads."

Hmmm, I still haven't really said it yet...have I?

Drum-roll please.................................................

Okay, get used to this. It has a real nice ring to it.

"Darlington 88's CSL Champions"

...but check this out...

...how's this phrase grab ya...

"Darlington 88's are in the OYSL"

There, I said it. Are you happy now?

OYSL
OYSL
OYSL
OYSL
OYSL

Yep, it has a real nice ring to it and I do believe I will be reporting a few stories that will need to be told so on that note...some things never change and that is, "A story needed to be told...and I told it."