Monday 5th July 2004:
John Moore, who spent his early years in Warminster, has posted a tribute to his friend, the late John Atyeo, on the Bristol City Football Club fans’ website. John writes:
Although my family originate from Liverpool, like many scousers they moved south for work, specifically in my old man’s case with the army, and we found ourselves settled in the town of Warminster, where “Big John” was a legend, and also a school teacher. He was never actually directly one of my teachers, but we bonded over our love of football. I always used to play footy with my family and friends outside his house, and inevitably John would come out and occasionally join in. I remember on one occasion playing two on two, and being about 50-10 up with first to 60, when John joined in with the opposition. Suffice to say we lost. He was amazing at football even with a gammy leg! Once in his garden, with his son in attendance, I went in goal, and he knocked me out with a volley that caught me square in the face.
Most school days he would spy me walking to Kingdown School and pick me up in his blue rover, and we’d talk footy on the way to school. On one occasion I asked him about his best ever goal: he said he hit a 40-yarder for City away to Villa in the Cup. He admitted it was a fluke; apparently the ball bobbled just as he hit it, and it flew in like a volley. Even the Villa fans clapped.
Most weekends, as I was too young to travel to Anfield (I now watch the “reds” home and away), I would travel to football with John. We used to drive from Warminster to an isolated house near Bath, and pick up another guy who had been a director of STFC. Now I know you lot may not like this, but John was so footy mad, he would go to the football at Ashton or at Twerton, depending on who was home. I used to sit in the back of the car, earwigging these patriarchs of the sport wax in knowledgeable tones. They were great days: I was fifteen or so, and would drive into the players car park at Ashton Gate with John. The fans (you lot!) would bang on his window and then we would enter via the players’ entrance. I still remember the commissioner and his uniform. John would have a quick word, then out of nowhere a ticket would arrive, and I would have a very good seat around the directors’ box. One trip to Ashton Gate sticks out for me: you were playing Forest in the semi’s of the Littlewoods Cup. I hung around with John all day – I remember Bobby Gould coming up to him after the game saying “What a great cup tie and what a great left foot that Parker has.” I also remember him bumping into Cloughie himself, “You’d have scored five today if you’d been out there John,” was Cloughie’s greeting before a warm embrace.
I went off to Medical School the year before “Big John” died. He was very proud of me I think. Just before the Easter he had a heart attack, and on my holiday home I went to see him, chatted footy for a few hours and said goodbye. My family called me in the middle of my end of year exams to tell me that John wanted to speak to me. I promised to call him as soon as my exams were over. The night before my last exam I was called again. I could tell in my Nan’s voice something was wrong and she told me to sit down and then gave me the news: “Big John” had died that afternoon.
I was enormously touched at his funeral, as his family had placed me on the top tier, with the footballing mourners, and not with the others who had known John after his sporting career. The service was very moving and quite humorous, but I cracked up emotionally when his coffin was removed from the church, draped in a BCFC flag, and with “Red Red Robbin” playing solemnly, and low tempo on the church organ. Many of the other footy people around me did likewise. Outside the church one of my school teachers stopped me to tell me that I was the last person that John had spoken about at school, and that I had promised to call him, a promise that to this day I regret not keeping.
This is a copy of what I have written about John on another website:
The late great John Atyeo was a giant of a man in many ways.
He played football for England and also Bristol City (scoring over 300 goals in 600+ games, never being booked nor sent off).
He then studied mathematics before becoming a teacher, another area in which he absolutely excelled.
I will never forget spring 1988. I had spent weeks desperately trying to locate a ticket for the F.A. Cup Final. Two days before the game, a messenger came to my tutor room to inform me that Mr. Atyeo wanted to see me over a disciplinary matter. Shaken, I cautiously and apprehensively made my way to his room in the French Block. There I found not only Big John, but Mr. Blackwood and Mrs. Ealy; an intimidating menagerie if ever there was, and I was convinced that I was in bad bad doodoo.
John shook his head, muttered how disappointed he was in me and that I would have to be suspended from school. He claimed to be unable to even say the deed upon which I would fall, such was its dastardly nature. He produced an envelope from his breast pocket which, I was informed, contained written detail of my misdemeanour. I opened said missive feeling physically nauseous and began to read: ‘Challenge Cup Final Tie, May 1988, Wembley Stadium, Admit 1’. It was a F.A. Cup Final ticket! The shock on my face was met with much mirth from the three senior mischief makers, but it got only better when John produced yet another envelope, containing another ticket, as he felt me too young to travel to Wembley on my own.
The best eulogy I can give to “Big John” is that he was one of the most pleasant people I have ever met. I admired him in life, and miss him in death. Rest in Peace John, You’ll Never Walk Alone.
John Atyeo was more than a sporting legend to me, he was a friend and a mentor, and I still miss him today. Rest assured that in every way your club’s best ever player was totally deserving of the title “legend”.
His wife Ruth died a few years ago of cancer. I still think it sad that even now they would of only been in their seventies, and regret I never had a chance to take John to the footy. Still every time I sing YNWA at Anfield I think of the big man. YNWA.