My Story No 8: The Crystal Palace's - Emotional Intelligence - Fight Flight - Matt Dawson

 

The Crystal Palace was a cast iron and plate glass structure, originally built in Hyde Park, London, to house the Great Exhibition of 1851. The exhibition took place from 1 May to 15 October 1851, and more than 14,000 exhibitors from around the world gathered in its 990,000 square feet (92,000 m2) exhibition space to display examples of technology developed in the Industrial Revolution. Designed by Joseph Paxton, the Great Exhibition building was 1,851 feet (564 m) long, with an interior height of 128 feet (39 m). It was three times the size of St Paul's Cathedral. [Wikipedia]

It burnt down, and was replaced with …

“Emotional Intelligence (EI), emotional leadership (EL), emotional quotient (EQ) and emotional intelligence quotient (EIQ), is the capability of individuals to recognize their own emotions and those of others, discern between different feelings and label them appropriately, use emotional information to guide thinking and behavior, and manage and/or adjust emotions to adapt to environments or achieve one's goal(s).” [Wikipedia]

Colin was learning fast. So fast …

“The fight-flight-freeze response is your body’s natural reaction to danger. It’s a type of stress response that helps you react to perceived threats, like an oncoming car or growling dog. The response instantly causes hormonal and physiological changes. These changes allow you to act quickly so you can protect yourself. It’s a survival instinct that our ancient ancestors developed many years ago.” [Healthline.com]

His, Viking, survival (run away, faster than the chasers) instinct was so strong, he entered  the National Athletics (Under 15) Finals at …

“Crystal Palace is an area in south London, England, named after the Crystal Palace Exhibition building which stood in the area from 1854 until it was destroyed by fire in 1936. Approximately 7 miles (11 km) south-east of Charing Cross, it includes one of the highest points in London, at 367 feet (112 m), offering views over the capital. … After the Crystal Palace burned down in 1936, the site of the building and its grounds became Crystal Palace Park, the location of the National Sports Centre which contains an athletics track, stadium and other sports facilities.” [Wikipedia]

Colin is thirteen years old, He had obviously gained enough emotional intelligence to work out Normanton Grammar school would present different life opportunities. I have purposely avoided the word ‘better’. Clearly something deep inside his psyche needed a different life. Prior to joining the grammar school; being bullied, beaten or attacked with a knife, were all part of acquiring a different intelligence. The one recuring theme that would rescue Colin from these situations (or did the situations create the theme?) was his ability to run fast. In times of fear, stress and anxiety, the bodies ‘fight or flight’ response system is triggered.

I have never been a fighter. The idea of inflicting physical harm on another living creature, Wasps are work-in-progress, is anathema to me. Instead I would take to flight. A lasting memory of Normanton, and it’s Grammar school, is; I was never bullied, kicked or beaten. However, my flight instinct had been firmly ingrained into my very being and was about to grow exponentially, if slow at first. My first academic year at Normanton, two terms in my case, was nothing exceptional on the sporting front. Fringe of rugby team still learning rules of the Union game. Rugby league is fast intuitive and exiting. Rugby Union seemed to be a load of lads, of in-a-pile or jumping in the air, it was boring. I see nothing has changed …

BBC Sport: Matt Dawson column, 29th November 2020: Rugby needs to change its laws to keep kids watching. “After watching England's win against Wales, I think there needs to be a change to rugby's laws. There were five offloads in that game. As much as I am a purist and there will be parts that I enjoy, my kids are not watching the game. They are thinking it is just a load of bodies on the floor ...'  England flanker Sam Underhill said after the match that if people did not like scrums and line-outs, they should watch rugby league. The same day, the most amazing, even without a crowd, grand final – Wigan v St Helens – ever, in Rugby League history, took place, with a dramatic ending after the final hooter.

It is so easy to get distracted when writing one’s story. Where was I?

Normanton Grammar School age thirteen and struggling to adapt to the structured game of rugby union.  I came third in the 100 yards on sports-day but exited when I made the 4x100 team, for school matches. Little did I know a new energy was about to explode, an energy with no immediate family history …

Bridlington, East Yorkshire, Summer 1966. … I remember being taken to someone’s home to watch a soccer match. I knew very little of this alien game but was aware the second world war (knew very little about that either) was being re-enacted over 90 minutes in a game at Wembley, I think we won. My days were spent cycling on my new bike. One Saturday, I turned left off the A165, Brid to Hull road and discover Barmston Beach holiday park.  A caravan haven; shop, showers and social club. As many a lad from Yorkshire would have said, said, ‘that’s my survival needs taken care of, party on lads and lasses.’ Just one big party, all summer.

Barmston is a village in the East Riding of Yorkshire, England. It is situated on the Holderness coast, overlooking the North Sea and to the east of the A165 road. Barmston is approximately 6 miles (10 km) south of Bridlington town centre. Together with Fraisthorpe it forms the civil parish of Barmston and Fraisthorpe. Barmston is mentioned in the Domesday Book as having eight ploughlands and belonging to Drogo of la Beuvrière [Wikipedia]

On a hot Saturday in August it was also the annual carnival and sports day. Colin parks his bike, lock not needed, he sees a large notice board, listing the day’s events; ‘1430 hours, Junior boys (11-13) 100 yards’ catches his eye. ‘1500 hours, intermediate boys (13-16) 100 yards’ does the same. He notices the senior boys race time, but of no relevance. As the park is full to bursting, heats are needed for junior boys races. A short while later, Colin is the proud owner of a cricked bat, ball, stumps, and bails, all in a bag with a shoulder strap. Roughly thirty minutes later, Colin also owns two tennis racquets and four balls, also in a shoulder strapping bag, perfect for a lad on a bicycle. He was refused entry for the senior boys and men’s races. My mum dad and I still giggle as they were convinced I must have stolen them before sharing the story.

My emotional intelligence had grown; I loved the sense of freedom, adventure and independence that could be achieved by literally, ‘getting on your bike’.

By the following summer I was in the school athletics team, came second (sports day) in the 100 yds and won the 200yds. During the autumn, I started weight training with a school mate, John Dyson, squat thrusts mainly, 5x20 squats with over 100kg at the ends of a bar, a towel rolled around the shaft to protect my neck. I also spent the winter training with Featherstone Rovers which resulted in my rugby career taking off.

Despite acquiring a cricket set, in the Barmston sports, the sport was not for me. The summer of 1968 opened my eyes to another life, athletics. Athletics Weekly was an A5 magazine distributed through newsagents, with a copy in the cricket pavilion at Dalefield, also home to the school athletics track. The track was odd, unique is another way of looking at it. I often talk to myself, do you? On this occasion, “this is daft, how can this be an athletics track, it’s a bloody hockey pitch, and a small on at that. There is a six-foot-high fence enclosing this square, so small it couldn’t hold a 100 metre race. The cricket pitch boundary is the sixth lane of the athletics track, a circumference of 330 yards, exactly.”  I said to myself. The 400 yards was one and one third laps, it was a piece of mathematical genius between Alan Jubb, [he is for later] the groundsman and a machine that could paint six, parallel, white lines in a 330 yard circle. After a match against Kings school Pontefract; I had won my races, I was shown a copy of Athletics Weekly. A5, black and white. Articles, with tips on running, types of equipment along with a list of events and how to enter. The finale being the national championships at Crystal Palace Athletics stadium.

I entered a popular Athletics day at Saville Park [Dorothy Hyman set a world record for 100 yards there] and won the 100 and 220 yards. I entered the Yorkshire championships and won. I won loads of toasters, kettles, clocks and Irons. I then applied, by post, to run in the National championships being held at the end of August. My application was rejected as I needed to be a member of an associated club. I phoned them up and said, ‘Please Sir, I wear the vest of Normanton Grammar school. I have checked with my PE teacher, Mr Alan Jubb, and he assures me the school is affiliated to the Yorkshire AAA. Please let me take part in your championships.”  The finals programme said, ‘Colin Lambert -unattached,’ when listing the names for the heats. My dad drove us to Crystal Palace, first job was to find a B&B. First job on day two was to find a B&B without screaming and banging (both sorts) throughout the night. Day one was heats, day two semi-final and final. Semi-final went like this:

Eight lanes.

Lane 1.  Colin never understood the ‘black and white minstrel show’, but now he was in awe.  He had never seen a black person, in the flesh - up close and personal, before. A shiny, blue and red, tracksuit, kit bag with Birchfield Harries emblazoned on both sides.  He looked seriously quick and powerful.

Lane 2. Like lane 1, but Thames Valley AC. He kept practising starts, running 10 steps, prancing about like he was a ballet dancer, then nonchalantly walking back. 

Lane 3. A total poser, stripping off, laying his kit, very neatly, by his designer bag with Gateshead Harriers embroidered everywhere.

Lane 4.  This one kept taking a deep breath, clenching both fists, staring at everyone else, whilst grunting ‘yes, yes’ to himself. Another Birchfield Harrier.

Lanes, 5, 6 and 7, were just scary.  The elite (Under 15’s) of UK athletics.

Lane 8. A very odd-looking lad with a baggy tracksuit and a duffel bag.  Our very own, Lad from Featherstone.

My weekend in Crystal Palace taught me something no textbook, no video, no parent, no teacher … list is endless, could teach me … 

Life is an adventure; nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I won my semi-final, won my 200m semi, came third in both finals (11.3 and 22.7 seconds) and took two Bronze medals home.  

It gets better, much better, until I return to Crystal Palace as part of the Yorkshire men’s 4x100 metre team in the Nationals aged eighteen. I am second leg, sat behind the shot-put cage, waiting for the men’s 10,000 metres to end. The crowd is massive, they are all watching this skinny guy with a massive Movember moustache, 118 on his front and 118 on his back. This guy just keeps going, going and … 

David Bedford suddenly, ran off the track and fell to the ground. Thirty metres away our Lad from Featherstone went ouch …

The rest is for later.

Om

Notes:

Cover photo: 

Philip Henry Delamotte (1821–1889) - Smithsonian Libraries, Public Domain, 

BBC Sport: Matt Dawson column, 29th November 2020