Estrellas in their eyes

Spot the white guys. Shocker and me playing for Estrellas 1988.



Me before the cup final at Birmingham High School. November 1988.



Estrellas at Pacoima Junior High


Way way back in 1988 when I first came to America, I was soon joined by my mate from Middleton, Ian Shaughnessy aka Shocker.
We both played for the Woodman in the Blackley league and decided we wanted to have a kick around on a Sunday in the Golden State to keep ourselves sane.
So one weekend we ventured over to nearby Balboa Park and walked around asking various teams if they needed players.
Balboa Park in 1988 on a Sunday afternoon was completely full of young Latino males playing "futbol" there wasn't a white face to be seen apart from the obligatory LAPD squad car that continually circled the fields on the lookout for trouble.
Our enquiries were met with blank stares until we talked to a white haired older Mexican gentleman named Anselmo Hernandez.

"Do you need players?" we asked
"Err si, do you play" he replied
"Of course, we're English, from Inglaterra mate"
Thank god we had remembered the Spanish word for England from the 86 World Cup.
Anselmo looked at the Derby County shirt I was wearing, I had bought it from the market in Middleton for 2 quid, not a fan of the Rams, but it was dirt cheap.
He pointed at the Derby badge.
"You play for them in Inglaterra?"
"No"
"Si, you play for them"
"No, it's just a shirt, we didn't play for them"
"Okay, si"
We gave up at that point.
Anslemo told us to come to his fortified house in a dodgy Van Nuys neighbourhood during the week and to bring pictures and he would take a gamble and sign us up without actually seeing us play.
After all we were ex-Derby County players so we couldn't be that bad, right?
"Do you think he's a drug dealer?" asked Shocker on the way home.
"Could be" I replied.
We thought everyone was a drug dealer back then, especially the Mexicans you'd see on the San Fernando Valley streets selling oranges and flowers. We thought they had the perfect "cover" but looking back we were just naive and the cops would have been all over them.

Well we did the deed, got signed up and we set to make our debuts the following Sunday, except I managed to stab myself with a Bowie knife in the thigh. An accident that required 70 odd stitches.
Me and Shocker showed up that Sunday and announced I couldn't play on account of my knife wound.
"Were you on drugs man?" one asked
"No" I said
"Were you drunk then?"
"No, I just did it by accident"
They all looked at each other.
"Fucking loco" said one, they all laughed and nodded in agreement.
The game started and Shocker was playing while I was interrogated on the sideline
"So Andres" said one "Tell us about the Ingles"
"Errr, well we are like the Mexicans of Europe"
They looked puzzled.
"We love to drink, play football, fight, fuck and nobody likes us"
Again they all nodded and laughed, we fit right in.
Shocker of course took the game by storm. He was small even by Mexican standards but they were amazed by his ability to take a kicking, get up and carry on playing unaffected. He scored two goals as well which was a bonus.
After the match was over I presented Anslemo with the Derby County shirt that he so admired.
"You play for them in Inglaterra?" he asked again
"No"
He walked over to the rest of the team and I could tell he was informing them that his latest two signings were ex-Derby County players as he pointed at the shirt and then pointed back at the two pasty gringo's.
As the next week was easter there was no game and in between I had my stitches taken out.
I was ready to make my debut, they put me and Shocker up front against some pretty rubbish opposition, I scored 4 and Shocker got another 2 in the first half.
At the start of the second they informed us that we were done for the day. We were both shocked and pissed off until we were told that this was the 2nd team and we were now promoted to the 1st team who were playing immediately afterwards.
Back then of course we were younger, skinnier and a hell of a lot fitter so we came to an arrangement where we would play for both teams on a Sunday. I'd play up front for the 2nd team and then slot in at the back for the 1st team.
Shocker played in midfield or up front for either team depending on his mood.
Frequently our games would be delayed because a massed brawl would break out. The usual decorum for us two would be to sit down in the centre circle and wait for things to boil over. Now I think I can handle myself but getting into a massive brawl with a bunch of Mexicans is not wise as it could easily turn into "Kill whitey" so we kept out of it and to their credit, nobody ever bothered us.

It was also during my tenure in the San Fernando League that I scored my greatest ever goal.
We were playing a match at Pacoima Junior High (Richie Valens' alma matter).
I was playing as centre forward and during one attack somebody drove a low pass across the pitch, I had over ran the ball and stopped dead, the ball hit my out stretched heel and pinged in the air looping down right in front of me, I volleyed the ball before it could hit the ground and it flew right into the roof of the net from 25 yards out.
It was complete fluke how the ball ended up in front of me for the shot but my team mates were convinced that I had meant it.
"Maradona" screamed one of them.
"No, it was an accident, a lucky goal" I protested, but they were having none of it of course, they knew I had played for Derby County and was obviously just being really modest.
Anyway Shocker eventually returned to England and I continued to play for Estrellas as the lone Englishman and the lone white guy in the league.
We ended the season in second place and got to the cup final. It was played in front of about 2000 spectators at Birmingham High School. During the game I was racially abused, had bottles thrown at me, I loved it, it was my proudest moment as a footy player.
The opposing supporters went mental when I elbowed on of their players in the face forcing him to be subbed with a bloody nose.
Late on in the match we were losing 3-2 when I pushed forward and hit the crossbar with a 30 yard shot, cue more abuse.
Then the game was over and we had lost, their fans invaded the pitch instantly and I thought that I was going to get a bit of a slap as loads of them made a bee line for me.
"Here we go" I thought
"Nice game white boy" I was patted on the back by dozens of Mexican strangers and many more wanted to shake my hand.
While I was disappointed to lose the game I was pretty pleased by my performance and the reception of the crowd, for 90 minutes I almost felt like a "proper" footballer.