I'll add one that's a good story but for anyone that's not a Brit, or like me spent their youth in Britain at the correct time...
I spent much of my youth in the UK; Suffolk and Norfolk to be precise. I, like all young boys, learned football as soon as I could walk. This was in the early '60s until 1970. My coach in our village had played for God's Team, Manchester United in the '40s and '50s. He was a taskmaster! Imagine being a 7-year-old and having to run to the pitch, set up the net, then run to his home in the village and run back with him: total distance, about two miles each way.
One week he says "lads...this Saturday we'll have practice...I'll have some friends to help with ball handling; be early!" Okay...
So on Saturday...we go through the litany and then he's not at home! His wife says "oh, he drove to the pitch with his friends; they're waiting for you lads. So we run back as fast as we can. When we get there, the coach is ready and calls his friends over.
Bobby Charleton, Nobby Stiles, and a young guy named George Best.
We had died and gone to Heaven!!
Needless to say, that practice is forever emblazoned in my brain. And the autographs and pictures are nice too! My father still has those.
Sir Bobby Charleton, Kt., CBE, is now 83 while, sadly, Nobby and George have passed.
Steve