Heroes & Villains, the Aston Villa fanzine
Heroes & Villains => Heroes Discussion => Topic started by: Villa Lew on December 30, 2021, 03:11:51 PM
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Today in the Daily Mail they have printed the most goals scored by a club in the English top flight in a calendar year
Villa 1931 - 120
Sheffield Wednesday 1930 - 115
Wolves 1959 - 115
Spurs 1960 - 114
Wolves 1960 - 113
Man City 2021 - 113
Well done Pongo and the boys, when it comes to goals per games for any Villa player, who has say made over 100 apps, the great Pongo must hold the record 167 goals in 225 apps.
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We also hold the record for most top-flight goals scored in a season which unsurprisingly was 1930-31 with 128. Arsenal scored 127 that season and were champions.
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probably hold the record for the most conceded too
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In that record-breaking calendar year of 1931 Pongo scored 44 league goals, plus one in the cup
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We've got PongoPongo WaringIn the airIn the air
Older posters may remember that chant. I had no clue who he was at the time, but sang along as you did back then.
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When I read the headline I thought it was a link to that searing 1981 classic Hey Aston Villa.
And people say Ghost Town was the best single of that year...
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How Pongo got his name.
“This is Billy Walker,” said the polite voice on the other end of the line. “Who’s calling?”
“This is Fred Hargreaves, a reporter for the Tranmere Gazette, Mr. Walker. I’m doing a story for my paper about Pongo Waring who’s just signed for Tranmere Rovers. I’d like to ask you a few questions if you wouldn’t mind.”......
........“How did he ever get that nick-name of his?” asked Hargreaves.
Walker laughed. “The newspapers all said he was named after this popular cartoon character in the newspaper called ‘Pongo’, a dog I believe. That was the public story. But I know better! Pongo was an eccentric young man at the best of times, and he used to keep chickens in the front parlor of his club house!”
“Don’t put this in the newspaper or Pongo’ll be over the Pennines to kill me!” said Walker. “The fact is that he kept these chickens in a cage in his front room, and their strong smell attached itself to his clothes, and Pongo was no dandy dresser! Sometimes he’d wear the same jacket or trousers for days, so the aroma became very noticeable. So the lads got to calling him ‘Pongo’ because of the strong ‘pong’ or smell! He didn’t seem to mind. He only cared that when the Holte end shouted ‘Pongo! Pongo!’ they were expressing their adoration not their disgust!”
“When I made my debut for Villa reserves against Birmingham City Reserves, 23,000 people turned up to see the new boy in action. I knew I couldn’t afford to disappoint them! Wouldn’t you know I scored a hat-trick and we stuffed ‘em. How those Villa fans loved to see their enemies, the City, humbled! From that moment on I was accepted! They loved me, especially in the Holte End! I couldn’t put a foot wrong! I only played thirteen games in my first season, but I managed to score seven goals so I was off and running. Meanwhile my old mate, ‘Dixie’, had just scored sixty! The following season was great. I was enjoying my football, and I scored thirty-two goals. In the third season I got myself injured and I was out for a while. I got a tad worried because me replacement, George Brown, scored thirty-six goals while I only managed eleven all season! I was scared me brief time at the top was over, but the gaffer had faith in me and I started out season 1930/31 fit and rarin’ to go. They’d got me a part-time job at the Hercules Motor and Cycle Company in Aston which was good because me wages weren’t exactly princely! Those directors, the toffee-nosed bastards, they just think you’re a slab of meat. They work you like a slave, payin’ you peanuts, and then they’ll dump you as soon as you hit a bad patch.”
“What about your team-mates?” asked Hargreaves. “Did you all get on well?”
“They were a good bunch of lads, most of ‘em,” replied Pongo. “There were a couple I wasn’t too fond of. I had a great captain, name of Billy Walker. He was a veteran by then, well into his thirties, a local lad from Wednesbury. He was very patient with me. I was a cocky bastard, and I’d turn up for training when it suited me, ten o’clock, eleven o’clock, twelve. Billy never got angry wi’ me. I used to have a little bottle of Scotch hidden in me locker, and I used to go round all the refreshment counters in the ground, using the dregs of lemonade the fans had left behind after the match to flavor me Scotch. He knew what I was doing, but he never called me on it. It was all running up and down the terraces and round the cinder track. Hardly any ball work! Boring and a waste of time. I’d knock fer a welt (tea break) after a half an hour o’ that. But as long as I delivered the goods on a Saturday afternoon, old Billy never bothered me. A grand man! He retired and became manager of Sheffield Wednesday. Took them to Wembley last year, and won the Cup!”
https://michaelneatstories.wordpress.com/2019/04/01/pongo/
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Thank you for posting.
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Great read that ,thanks
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When I read the headline I thought it was a link to that searing 1981 classic Hey Aston Villa.
This is usually the point at which Damo and I reminisce about having 'A-S-T-O-N V-I-L-L-A' by Dave Ismay on claret and blue vinyl.
I still have it.
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In that record-breaking calendar year of 1931 Pongo scored 44 league goals, plus one in the cup
49 in the actual 30/31 season (plus the one in the cup).
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How Pongo got his name.
“This is Billy Walker,” said the polite voice on the other end of the line. “Who’s calling?”
“This is Fred Hargreaves, a reporter for the Tranmere Gazette, Mr. Walker. I’m doing a story for my paper about Pongo Waring who’s just signed for Tranmere Rovers. I’d like to ask you a few questions if you wouldn’t mind.”......
........“How did he ever get that nick-name of his?” asked Hargreaves.
Walker laughed. “The newspapers all said he was named after this popular cartoon character in the newspaper called ‘Pongo’, a dog I believe. That was the public story. But I know better! Pongo was an eccentric young man at the best of times, and he used to keep chickens in the front parlor of his club house!”
“Don’t put this in the newspaper or Pongo’ll be over the Pennines to kill me!” said Walker. “The fact is that he kept these chickens in a cage in his front room, and their strong smell attached itself to his clothes, and Pongo was no dandy dresser! Sometimes he’d wear the same jacket or trousers for days, so the aroma became very noticeable. So the lads got to calling him ‘Pongo’ because of the strong ‘pong’ or smell! He didn’t seem to mind. He only cared that when the Holte end shouted ‘Pongo! Pongo!’ they were expressing their adoration not their disgust!”
“When I made my debut for Villa reserves against Birmingham City Reserves, 23,000 people turned up to see the new boy in action. I knew I couldn’t afford to disappoint them! Wouldn’t you know I scored a hat-trick and we stuffed ‘em. How those Villa fans loved to see their enemies, the City, humbled! From that moment on I was accepted! They loved me, especially in the Holte End! I couldn’t put a foot wrong! I only played thirteen games in my first season, but I managed to score seven goals so I was off and running. Meanwhile my old mate, ‘Dixie’, had just scored sixty! The following season was great. I was enjoying my football, and I scored thirty-two goals. In the third season I got myself injured and I was out for a while. I got a tad worried because me replacement, George Brown, scored thirty-six goals while I only managed eleven all season! I was scared me brief time at the top was over, but the gaffer had faith in me and I started out season 1930/31 fit and rarin’ to go. They’d got me a part-time job at the Hercules Motor and Cycle Company in Aston which was good because me wages weren’t exactly princely! Those directors, the toffee-nosed bastards, they just think you’re a slab of meat. They work you like a slave, payin’ you peanuts, and then they’ll dump you as soon as you hit a bad patch.”
“What about your team-mates?” asked Hargreaves. “Did you all get on well?”
“They were a good bunch of lads, most of ‘em,” replied Pongo. “There were a couple I wasn’t too fond of. I had a great captain, name of Billy Walker. He was a veteran by then, well into his thirties, a local lad from Wednesbury. He was very patient with me. I was a cocky bastard, and I’d turn up for training when it suited me, ten o’clock, eleven o’clock, twelve. Billy never got angry wi’ me. I used to have a little bottle of Scotch hidden in me locker, and I used to go round all the refreshment counters in the ground, using the dregs of lemonade the fans had left behind after the match to flavor me Scotch. He knew what I was doing, but he never called me on it. It was all running up and down the terraces and round the cinder track. Hardly any ball work! Boring and a waste of time. I’d knock fer a welt (tea break) after a half an hour o’ that. But as long as I delivered the goods on a Saturday afternoon, old Billy never bothered me. A grand man! He retired and became manager of Sheffield Wednesday. Took them to Wembley last year, and won the Cup!”
https://michaelneatstories.wordpress.com/2019/04/01/pongo/
Thanks, enjoyed reading those :)