I lived, pre University days, in a town called Horwich, by Rivington Pike a well known North Western landmark close to Winter Hill TV mast. The Pike has, for 100’s of years been a place of pilgrimage on this date of Christ’s death.
That’s more fun and frolics than religious fervour these days but I’d say upwards of 20,000 will climb up tomorrow.
Good Friday, however, was a day my father held to be very holy. I was, therefore barred from joining in this fun and, despite dozens of my friends descending from all around the area I was not permitted to join them but required to perform Altar Boy duties on this holiest of days.
At age 15 I was playing for the local semi-pro football team, Horwich RMI. They had a Good Friday game which kicked of at 3.30pm. I figured I could do the Stations of the Cross and still get to the ground in time. I took my altar clothes and my football stuff in the bag and decided I’ll have met dad’s conditions. I didn’t check this with him of course.
I managed and the a decent crowd of probably 500+ watched a game between Horwich & local rivals Chorley.
We were 15 minutes into the game when dad appeared. He walked across the pitch, as the game was playing. He marched up to me, grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and frog marched me back across the pitch. As we passed the dug-outs and my manager dad noddrd “Myles !”, “Kevin” was the reply.
I got my stuff & we went home. No discussion, no debate, no whining. I went training the following week dreading the questions &/or piss taking but not one word was spoken about it.
I wasn’t selected for the Good Friday match following season.
I do love hearing about the different traditions though
Tomorrow at 3pm will be The Liturgy of The Lord’s Passion followed by Veneration of The Cross . There will be a full turnout & no-one will dare to think of football…
My Late Father never worked on Good Friday, & would have been horrified by the thought
I am quite sure that I remember it being a “half Bank Holiday” when I was a child, so that people had time off from work to go to church if they wanted to, but not a full bank holiday. Same as Christmas Eve.
I have just done the daftest thing. It will be Mr Bee’s birthday, tomorrow so, leaving him at the Vigil, I rushed home to wrap his pressies, two of which are cds. I searched high, low and in-between to find where I had secreted them (I have a lot of hidey-holes) and having buzzed about distractedly forra while, I checked my order to find that they should have arrived today (they haven’t). For Goodness’ sake!
It was more concerning than annoying, Carinthia. My poor addled beely brain (!) had clearly considered that delivery of Detectorists series 3 was Talk Talk two cds wot I had ordered at the same time. I am still considering my antennae.
