I remember the terrible winter in 1963, clearing the snow off the forecourt at Upton Park with the rest of the players so we could train. Job done, we'd play on it for two hours in silly little plimsolls, sliding everywhere.

In the Fifties, Canvey was a top seaside place for a youngster - the famous Canvey Island Casino was full of slot machines and there were all the fairground rides, such as the dodgems, and a speedway track.

Losing produces a weird reaction in me. I surrender all sense of perspective. It's ridiculous, really. All this over a football match.

Two wide men stuck out wide leave you very open in midfield, but it's a strength as well. Going forward, it makes you pretty dangerous to anyone.