I did my volunteering stint
at Park Run last week but I missed running, not least because I was
freezing stood still. I had time keeping responsibility for all the runners and
fortunately all the data transferred from the timer gadget to the website ok.
Phew!
Each Saturday morning I
drive past Shiregreen WMC, which is just a stone’s throw away from Concord Park Run.
This is where the final “stripping” scenes were filmed for the Full Monty. It
dawned on me that I have several close connections with the Full Monty filming locations.
The old Burton Street school used in the film was
formerly the Langsett Music Centre where I studied music. I used to love doing
a bit of Dave Brubeck’s Unsquare Dance and Take Five on the battered double
bass there. I had some talented peers sat alongside me in those classes. Marcos
Lopez-Iglesias (played sessions for Duran Duran, Limahl) and Bill Sutton
(fabulous jazz pianist) immediately spring to mind.
As a boy, I lived fairly near
to the hills of Parkwood Springs that rose above Neepsend and the old Woodhead
railway line. Latterly, this was the site of a dry ski village, but in my youth
it was a great place to go climbing up to the old gun battery (which protected against
air strikes on the steelworks below during the Second World War) or go for a terrifying
downhill bike ride. In the film, this where Robert Carlyle sits smoking while
doing a training run as the ginger haired bloke tries to kill himself with car
exhaust fumes.
 | ||
| Full Monty location - Parkwood Springs (www.onlinegreencity.com) |
And then there is the former ASDA
supermarket at Orgreave (next to the site of the bitter Battle of Orgreave during the 1984 Miner’s Strike). Though now
relocated further uphill following the Walmart takeover, this was/is still my
local big supermarket. In the film, one of the characters is a security guard
here.
…………………….
I’ve now managed to get out on
my new bike, the Triban 3, for the first time this year. I had a good 35km ride
to Poolsbrook and back (site of my infamous head-first over the handlebars and
roll down the dirt track into a crowd of young mums and their children calamity).
On the way, travelling
towards me in the opposite direction, I was humbled by a blind cyclist riding
alongside another cyclist. I’m pleased that my resolution of being more tolerant
of perceived ignorance held fast. I was heading for a collision and just about
to scream a profanity for them hogging the width of the track until I realised the
situation.
After you, sir!
When I got there, I sat down
for a quiet coffee and sandwich, only for a female cyclist puffing on a
cigarette to come up to me and say how brave I was to have cycling shorts on in
the cold and that she admired my bike. I’m not usually known for my patience,
especially not when knackered and muddy from my arse to my head, but I did make
conversation for a while to be polite in the hope she would leave me alone.
I'm trying to be less grumpy.
