It has been decades since I visited the Rec in Stourbridge and memories flood my mind like a burst dam. I recall playing cricket with my father and brother and some local kids joined in. I made a half century with an imitation leather ball (still my finest cricketing achievement) and felt as if Geoffrey Boycott.
The graffiti “Jimi Hendrix lives” I remember in large black letters. At 9 or ten the name was unfamiliar. I wondered where he lived!
Now the Rec seems so much smaller as I view the ghost of a little lad. He looks at me sadly.