Renaldo (69 page)

brought to the workers and residents of the Isle of Dogs a focal point, a sense

of community, a topic of discussion. The Bird Cage was filled to overflowing

on Saturday afternoons throughout the next two decades, and although the

Canaries never achieved promotion to the first division, their followers remained

steadfastly loyal.

Family and career matters were also on the ascent for Reginald Russell

as the new decade of the 1950s commenced. A promotion to colonel of Royal

Marine Intelligence allowed Reggie to work more closely with his beloved former

command. His planning, knowledge, and organizational skills had thrust him

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into the limelight at Whitehall during the Royal Marine’s withdrawal from

Palestine in 1948. Colonel Russell was directly responsible for the deployment

of Royal Marines in Korea during the international conflict in the early 1950s.

In 1953, he coordinated the internal security duties of the Marine commandos

in the Suez Canal zone of the volatile Middle East.

On the home front, 1951 saw the arrival of a daughter, Mallory Elizabeth

Russell, a blonde bundle of joy that brought great happiness to the entire family.

As so often happens, however, the elation of Mallory’s birth was tempered

by the death of her grandfather, Elliott, two months later, as a result of his

recurrent cancer.

Reggie had mixed emotions on his father’s passing. On the one hand,

he missed him dreadfully, but on the other hand, he did not want to see his

painful suffering prolonged. Reginald Arthur Nelson Russell became the

fifteenth Earl of Weymouth on his father’s passing and acquired an immense

fortune with considerable real estate assets. These included a host of industrial

and commercial buildings, six estate houses in London proper, a residence

in Nassau, an apartment in New York City, and several castles throughout

southern England and Scotland.

Neither this inherited material wealth nor his new title seemed to affect

Reggie in the least, for, as he would explain to anyone who cared, “I am just the

same old chap, and besides, one can only reside in one place at one time.” He

was supremely happy with Emily and the children at their Mayfair residence

and proceeded to sell off or donate the vast majority of his excess properties over

the following few years.

Throughout the 1960s and 190s, Colonel Reginald Russell was at

the nerve center of every operation in which Her Majesty’s Royal Marine

commandos participated. Borneo, Malaysia, Kuwait, and East Africa were just

a few theaters of operation that relied heavily on the intelligence that Reggie’s

operatives collected and transmitted to the active forces. His reputation for

being painstakingly thorough grew with each success. He would not tolerate

the loss of a single commando’s life due to misinformation. Colonel Reginald

Russell became somewhat of a legend within the Defense Ministry, and his

services were called upon, once again, when the army ran into severe policing

problems in Northern Ireland in 1969.

The only bone of contention in Sir Reggie’s otherwise idyllic life was the

perennial bridesmaid status of the Canary Wharf Football Club. Not once in

the forty years since they were relegated to the second division did they manage

to complete a season in the top three positions of the table. This was all that

was required to gain promotion to the big league, but the Canaries always

seemed to find new and innovative ways to finish no better than fourth.

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Some years they would start with a tremendous run, then fade badly as

the season closed. Other years they would open poorly, then make an exciting

dash for third spot that would inevitably fall a point or two short. All these

near misses drove Reggie to distraction, but it was the startling interest of his

daughter, Mallory, in the team’s fortunes that kept him from throwing in the

towel completely.

The young lady had attended her first Canaries game at age five, and

immediately took to the atmosphere and colorful characters that routinely

filled The Bird Cage. She loved the singing of the fight songs and the hazing of

the opposing players. She felt privileged to sit in the covered director’s box on

the center-field stripe, but asked endless questions about the people who stood

and cheered on the terraces, even in the most inclement weather.

The flags, the banners, the scarves, all in yellow and black, gave each

home game the atmosphere of a carnival. Mallory was elated after a Canary

victory and equally despondent after a defeat. Through her teen years, she and

her well-bred girlfriends would swoon over the more handsome players on

the side, and fan-club letters often took priority over homework, much to the

chagrin of her parents.

As time passed, Mallory Russell grew to be a beautiful woman. Her

development into a statuesque blonde, with a full figure and haunting pale

green eyes astonished her father. She had attended all the proper schools and

would have perhaps gone on to a mundane career and then marriage had it not

been for her consummate passion, football.

More than anything in the world, Miss Russell wanted the Canary Wharf

Football Club to return to its former days of glory. She would frequently suggest

roster and management changes to the chairman of the board of directors, her

beloved father. Always dismissed offhand at the time of presentation by the

exclusively male hierarchy of the club, these ideas of Mallory’s seemed to make

sense in retrospect, especially when another failed season was entered into the

record books.

Her break came in the middle of the 1976 season, when the current

manager, Tony Abbott, was forced to resign his post for health reasons.

There was no love lost between Mallory Russell and the Canary’s chauvinistic

manager. It was a well-known fact that Abbott had several times threatened

his resignation to Sir Reggie if his daughter didn’t stop meddling in the team’s

business.

It was a problem with ‘spirits,’ and not personalities that forced out Mr.

Abbott, however. Many years of frustration and lack of tangible improvement

were said to have driven the manager to the bottle. He began to miss team

meetings and practice sessions, but the coup de grace came when he was found

in a drunken stupor under the main grandstand of The Bird Cage immediately

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before his team took to the pitch for an all-important match. Sir Reggie had

no alternative but to dismiss the man who had been at the helm of the Yellow

Birds for eleven seasons.

It was one of the saddest days in the history of the Canary Wharf Football

Club, but it opened the door for the ascension of Mallory Russell to the board

of directors, and her assumption of the reins of power. While a woman could

not hold the actual position of manager in the eyes of Sir Reggie and the other

directors, there was nothing to prevent handing the decision-making power to

Mallory, and having her wishes conveyed to the team by a surrogate manager.

This is precisely what transpired with the hiring of ex-Canary player Randal

Horton as team manager and the election of Mallory Russell as executive vice

president in charge of football operations.

Horton had been one of Mallory’s poster boys years before, and the two had

always been on the same wave length. As for Mallory’s appointment, the rest of

the directors figured that they had nothing to lose by giving the enthusiastic

woman the reins, for attendance was falling at The Bird Cage as a result of

the succession of mediocre teams. Having a beauty such as Mallory Russell in

charge would, at least, guarantee increased press coverage.

While little could be accomplished for the balance of the 1976 season,

the Yellow Birds did manage to improve substantially in the second half of

schedule and came within three points of promotion. During the off-season,

Mallory pestered her father to open the bank vault sufficiently to permit the

acquisition of two top quality players who were on the transfer market from

first division clubs.

The first was forward Georgie Steeves from newly relegated Tottenham

Hotspur. His transfer fee of fifty-five thousand pounds was the most the

Canaries had ever paid for a player, but in Mallory’s opinion, he was just the

offensive spark that the team needed.

The second acquisition was for a major league keeper, and in Scotsman

Fraser MacTavish, the Canaries obtained a man nicknamed ‘Stonewall’ by his

Glasgow Rangers supporters. MacTavish was a seasoned veteran, thirty years

of age and only available due to a stable of young, energetic keepers that were

trying to break into the Ranger’s lineup. Fifty thousand pounds secured his

services for the Canaries, but Sir Reggie had a stern warning for his daughter

that this was the end of the spending spree. He also stated that there had better

be a tangible return on his investment or she would follow in the footsteps of

her predecessor, the unfortunate Tony Abbott.

The Canaries started the 19-8 campaign slowly, losing several games

that they should have won. It was relayed to Mallory by manager Horton that

several of the holdover players lacked the real desire that was necessary to win.

They had become second division floaters, content in their jobs and unwilling

to give that extra effort needed to gain promotion.

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Realizing that there was no more money in the till for further new blood,

Mallory and Horton decided to give the most lethargic players there outright

release and fill the void with untested amateurs that proliferated on the playing

grounds of London. Two university players were plucked from their school

teams, more for their enthusiasm than their proven ability. Horton was trying

to field a team with the proper chemistry, and the impromptu shakeup and

dismissal of several of the old-guard players had the desired effect on those who

remained.

Team captain Lawton MacRae was squarely in favor of the purge, for

he had the heart of a lion and hated the endless losing seasons. He berated

his players for their lack of pride and self-esteem, then he and his mates gave

manager Horton and the club executive a vote of confidence. The results of that

vote were evident immediately on the second division playing fields.

The Canaries did soar to the top of the table, and could have possibly

run away with the league had not several midwinter injuries to key players

knocked them down into their familiar fourth place standing by the start of

April. Luckily, all hands were back on deck for the crucial ‘run for the roses,’

and by early May, they had clinched promotion to the big league. The Russell

family and the team’s loyal followers were, at last, in a position to savor an

accomplishment that had eluded the Canary Wharf Football Club for four

decades.

The fact that it was all his daughter’s doing and not that of a man,

specifically his son, did not concern Reggie Russell. Nigel had grown to be

special in many ways, most of them philosophical, spiritual, and nurturing.

He was inseparable from his mother as a child and showed a scholarly, artistic

aptitude at a young age. Theology at King’s College, then an ordainment into

the Church of England completed his formal education. But there was very

little that was formal about Nigel Russell, and he immediately volunteered

for missionary work in Africa. His mother, hating the thought of being so far

away from her adoring son, became ‘born again,’ signed up as an aid worker,

and traveled with Reverend Russell to Kenya. Over the past several years, she

had spent less and less time visiting London, and nearly all the family reunions

seemed to take place at some remote African village.

Neither Reggie nor Mallory seemed to mind the fractured structure of

their family. All four were pursuing their own dreams, and with good spirit

and best wishes from the others. Mallory and her brother had always been

close. Their relationship remained so, but at this point in time, usually by

means of transcontinental mail, as they were seldom on the same continent at

the same time. For a free-spirited family like the Russells, it was a ‘catch you

later’ existence.

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Five days after ‘the clinch,’ the board of directors assembled in a private

suite at the Naval and Military Club to chart the course of action for their

newly promoted club. Architect John Hughes was also present by invitation.

After a hearty luncheon and several congratulatory toasts, the board settled

down to business.

Team treasurer Neville Strathy gave the financial report for the season

just ended. A modest profit was realized due to the team’s on-field success. One