Appleby College - Argus Yearbook (Oakville, Ontario Canada)

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requires many years of practice and application before proficiency can be achieved. This is not to say, however, that nice work cannot be finished over a short time given the right in- struction and guidance. We were really fortvmate this year to have someone like Geoff come down from his studio in Terra Gotta to conduct the programme. He was both a first-class craftsman and a first-class teacher. If he had any fault at all it was that he made everything look so easy! I say fault , for it lulled us into a false sense of security so that the expression throwing a pot with the wheel took on a deeper significance as the bevdldered novice scraped pottery from out of his mouth and ears. At the end of the two weeks many excellent pieces of pottery. encompassing every conceivable shape, form and size were fired and on display. It had been both a rewarding experience and a lot of fun. But mostly a lot of fun. Many thanks must go to Geoff for his patience and efforts to bring Appleby closer to earth. CoJin Richards

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Pottery Workshop When Geoff Stevens first set foot inside Appleby ' s art studio he was confronted with mounds of clay, a potter ' s wheel, wave after wave of Appleby students and the somewhat intimidating task of getting all three to work together. Clearly, even such a talent as his could not always make those grubby little Appleby hands turn out work on the same level as his ovra. Yes, it is true, alas that some of the work did fall a bit beneath masterpiece calibre- but it cer- tainly was not through lack of excellent instruction on his part. No, he is irreproachable in that regard without a shadow of a doubt, and yet, I wonder if he didn ' t give just the smallest sigh of relief as he left, considering of course the amount of raw Ap- pleby talent and gusto which oozed out of Appleby pores each day he was here. Why I ' ll wager that the poor man was terrified lest the mighty Appleby art machine use his knowledge to put him out of business, and I fear that he will lose many sleepless nights in the future biting his nails. Joking aside, this year ' s Pottery Workshop was a resounding success. Pottery, like any highly skilled craft, is something which ri V . r

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r On Athletes by Graham Leggat My father was a professional footballer for twenty years. I first started going with him to training when I was about four. He used to take me into the dressing room before the game. I felt lost and frightened in all the heat and noise and the smells of win- tergreen and leather, but the sights of naked, sweating men getting stripped and rubbed down never bothered me. I never thought about it. The only time I was embarrassed was when the players teased me, or offered to teach me how to box. I sometimes kicked a ball about on the field. Out there, in front of the terraces, on a well-kept pitch, I would dribble the ball which came up to my knee. I do not remember feeling exhilarated at being on that field. I just played there, quite oblivious of the surroundings. I was quite content to kick a ball about. In fact, I remember being more excited at my friend ' s father ' s warehouse because I could climb about on the bags of cement. My father was very good. He was the best player of his time, in his position. He made twenty pounds a week for ten years and after that he made, at most, eighty pounds a week. He never encouraged reporters or television men. He never men- tioned to me anything about himself. I heard reports only from other people. He just played. He first started because it was a way to pay his college fees. After he got his degree, he just played. I can remember watching the games at Fulham from the Director ' s Box. I never watched for him in particular. I can ' t actually remember my dad playing. I remember other things about the games. There was a huge black gate at Fulham, with a Uttle door in it for the players and their families to step through, without letting the crowds in. I - J • remember the hordes of autograph himters waiting before and after the game; the hangers- on cornering the players and asking for complimentary tickets; the people hanging around just to be seen with the players. When we moved to Bir- mingham, Dad used to take me to see Coventry play, or Wolves. We It is unfortunate that the best players make the easiest marks. went to the V.I.P. loimge before the game for tea and sandwiches. Someone always wanted to talk to him and I would stand and listen, feeling really out of place. When we went up to the Director ' s Box to watch the game, I ' d listen to the conunents he used occasionally to make. There was a young fullback who played for Coventry that he liked. It was unfortunate that the best players make the easiest marks. Someone is always trying to make a name for himself. I kicked Leggat all over the park when I played against him. Although I never noticed, my dad was in- jured quite a lot. He broke his right leg twice and his left leg once. Or rather, someone broke them for him. They also broke his left arm at the elbow. He ' s got a pin in it still. He had the cartilage removed from his right knee. His right shin has a two-inch lump running down it. Someone came right through me one game. I never remembered him injured. He never mentioned it. When I was about seven, Fulham sold him to Birmingham City, after he had played for them