‘Some people are on the side of the pitch. They think it’s all over: It is now!’ – Kenneth Wolstenholme, at the 1966 World Cup Final, Wembley Stadium
‘Gold’ 🎶 Spandau Ballet
https://open.spotify.com/track/2X9fsxb6O6bYEopJYmUbNC?si=WyX7rsfSS2y2J1lpeJHjKw&utm_source=sms
I’m a big sports fan.
Well a fan of most sports anyway.
I absolutely love football and also enjoy watching elite sportsmen and women in cycling and athletics: most especially at World Cups, Euros and the Olympics.
Just last night I managed to watch England thrash Croatia 7-0 whilst waiting at Leeds Bradford airport.
The big result of the weekend was at a friendly in south east London though.
Suddenly my Crystal Palace supporting bother in law Steve, and nephew Dave, have lost their voices!🤷♂️
Most other spectator sports I take with a pinch of salt: cricket is too slow, rugby too much kicking, golf too Americanized and horse racing too boring.
So when my football playing friend Tyrus Soo, uttered these uplifting, words:
“I swear, this was more exciting than Formula 1!”
I found myself in the ‘high performance boat’ for the briefest of moments, just like one of those global superstars that dominate our screens across the sporting year.
I was minutes away from personal glory and Tyrus’ enouragement was all I needed for one final push: one last monumental effort.
My blog last week had hinted at a personal sporting challenge that I was now fully immersed in.
I play football for 2 hours every Sunday night with up to 50 other players.
I’m the oldest player by approximately 20 years but my bustling, all-action days, in the centre of midfield are, sadly, long gone.
I now play as a goalkeeper and try to console myself with the belief that my brain still works pretty fast, even if my body no longer does.
Luckily, I seem to save more than I concede.
Tyrus, myself and around 40 of the football boys have been involved in a ‘Steps Challenge’ throughout September, having subscribed to ‘Step Up’, a free to download app, where your daily steps are totalled and your position in a group recorded.
As the month progressed, my positon in our league, gradually improved.
I caught long term leader Douglas with about 15 days to go, but at that midpoint, whilst lying in second place, Tyrus still held a massive lead of some 55,000 steps.
Rather fortunately, from a steps perspective at least, I managed to crash my car last week, and in doing so had released myself from the daily harum scarum of a car-led life, to give the challenge of catching Tyrus every chance.
Sometimes accompanied by my granddaughter Honor, frequently by my best ‘running mate’ Tip and on the penultimate day of September, by my good friend Andy, I gradually started to ‘reel in’ Tyrus’ huge lead, by walking ‘extras’!⅞
Then?
Sometimes I think that I will never learn!
‘Pride often comes before a fall’ and almost exactly at the point where I sent him a crowing message saying “I’m gunning for you”, an unforeseen adversary entered our fray.
Alex Bennett.
I don’t know Alex.
Least I don’t think I do!
Apparently he played football with ‘The Bridge the Gap’ boys a few years ago and I do have a faint recollection from that time, of a lad called Alex.
But when I saw a recent photograph of him, I was not so sure.
The trouble is there are over 360 players in our group and whilst I’m pretty good at remembering names, recalling everyone of the 360 players who may play just once, is a rather tall ask.
Alex’s appearance in the group was a bit of a bombshell for both Tyrus and I, especially as he was well over 40.000 steps ahead of us both. And all with just a few days, of September to go.
Members of staff at my school always rolled their eyes when I mentioned my ‘Elmer Principle’.
‘Elmer the Elephant’ is a children’s book featuring a multicoloured elephant………. named Elmer (obviously!)
In my Elmer Principle, I’ve always believed that you CAN eat an elephant: you just have to do it in bite size pieces.
So whilst my huge step deficit (my ‘elephant’) was daunting, I quickly calculated that by walking around 15,000 extra steps a day, on top of my usual 20,000, I could actually make Alex worried and start to look over his shoulder.
With the sublime weather of the UK summer continuing into September and now with no car journeys to distract me, because I had no car, I resolved to give it a last shot and if there was a chance to walk every day, I would take it.
And so it unraveled.
MY BIG MIDWEEK!
Day by day, I started to eat into Alex’s massive lead.
Tyrus quickly guessed my motives and progressed from being my main rival to my biggest supporter.
My son Jake, who set up the ‘Bridge the Gap Charity’ franchise in Leeds four years ago, also guessed my course of action and he also became a significant cheerleader.
https://bridgethegapfootball.org/
As September had started to end, so Alex’s lead dropped to around 40,000 steps with the final 2 days of the month still to go.
I had already walked back home from Harrogate in the Friday before: a 15 mile walk which featured in my blog that weekend.
I’d then walked half way to Leeds at 7am on the Sunday morning (about 14 miles) and my friend Andy had pledged to ‘Walk Me’ on the Tuesday.
This blog reflects that walk and the subsequent events on the final day of September as I pushed myself to take the coveted ‘Gold’ medal position in the BTG Step Up Challenge’.
(NB there NEVER was a gold medal! Though sometimes, imagining that there is, can be very motivating!)
Andy had suggested that he would lead our walk round the villages near Fountains Abbey, some nine miles east of Pateley Bridge.
Fountains Abbey is beautiful. Living as close as we do, we probably go there about half a dozen times a year.
It shines in every season, even winter!
So, with lunch packed, shorts on and commitment levels high, we set off from the Abbey car park at 8.45.
It was a cool, cloudy, but dry day.
We are both National Trust members, holding couple membership with our wives.
According to Andy, I’m a “cheapskate” because Nicky and I joined the National Trust, Scotland, who hold a reciprocal arrangement with their English counterparts for visiting each other’s estates. .
Bizarrely Scotland’s annual membership is around £110 for a couple, some £40 cheaper than the English version.
Why do Scotland get so many perks above England?
Eg free university tuition in Scotland and now cheaper NT memberships to boot.
I know it is colder and wetter up there but all the same? 🤷♂️
Rest assured, Scottish membership is actually not a massive problem to me.
I’m most definitely happy to pay less.
Annual membership, when you live so near local attractions like Fountains Abbey or Brimham Rocks is a bit of a no brainer.
It costs around £25 for each adult to enter Fountains on a day pass, so three visits or more and you are saving!
Onto our walk.
The terrain around Fountains Abbey is lovely. Much gentler than the steeper climbs and undulations of North and West Yorkshire, which have provided most of my trail experiences ever since I arrived in ‘God’s own Country’ in 1995.
First impressions beyond the splendour of the Abbey and its grounds: we saw hundreds of pheasants.
The Fountains Estate offers pheasant shooting days, albeit for those with deep pockets.
Apparently a day of grouse or pheasant shooting in North Yorkshire, can cost up to £800 each.
I really don’t actually understand the attraction.
But I totally accept that it ‘floats the boat’ for other people.
It seems hardly a fair sport to me. Pheasants are known to be particularly stupid (as attested in Roald Dahl’s brilliant children’s classic, ‘Danny the Champion of the World’).
There were so many pheasants on that estate, so the sky must be thick with them when they fly.
Surely, they really are a ‘sitting duck’ to even the poorest of marksmen.
My question:
Where’s the sport in that?
Mmmmmm: 🤫 ‘Sitting Ducks?’
Well ‘Sitting Pheasants’ actually!’🤪
The perfectly named ‘Field Horsetail’ was everywhere.
It looks just like a horse’s tail but, apparently, it is not the perfect companion plant to a garden.
Andy and his wife Janet have developed a magnificent garden at their beautiful Victorian property near Pateley.
He confirmed that horsetail would definitely not be welcome there.
He’s right: according to Google ‘Horsetail is highly invasive and aggressive in gardens.’
A ‘sulphur pot‘ occurs naturally in the woods near Fountains Abbey.
It provided a stunning, if rather smelly natural attraction.
I never knew sulphur pots existed in the UK.
We crossed lush fields soaked with the morning dew.
I quickly regretted wearing my trail shoes which were sodden.
Andy said nothing, but I could feel the accusation: ‘A schoolboy error MM!’
He was right of course.
We passed giant puffballs, easily bigger than his size 10’s,
And old painted tin outbuildings on a farm.
How that structure stayed standing, was mystifying.
A massive fuschia, festooned with flowers, grew out of a random pile of walling stone.
How on earth did that bush get the nutrients it needed to provide that floral display?
Nature really is amazing!
The man-made bridge at Eavestone Lake was surrounded by towering toadstools.
A particularly unusual clump of fungi hugged the bottom of the trunk of a large beech tree.
‘Blackening Polypore’ apparently!
‘Every day is a school day’ on the trails of Yorkshire clearly.
Towering rock formations hugged the eastern shore of the lake.
Brimham-like in their structure: grit stone I presumed?
We passed a gruesomely headless hare: only his ears remained un-chewed. Clearly a breakfast feast had been interrupted by our ramblings.
Honesty seed heads and yet more toadstools revealed themselves in this gently rolling countryside.
A blanketed horse greeted us as we fleetingly joined a tarmaced road and then our route took us out onto the heather clad moor, where the only visible features were a distant coniferous woodland and a beautifully constructed stone cairn.
An oft familiar sight on my North Yorkshire ramblings appeared. Yet another magnificently constructed stone property.
This impressive dwelling lay right in the middle of the highly sought after ‘Golden Triangle’ of Leeds, Harrogate and York.
Probably very cheap by London prices, but I bet it would still cost a few million ‘oop (this part of) north.’
A quartet of donkeys greeted us as we walked through the small village of Galphay.
Their owner, a lovely lady who had visited the Pateley Agricultural Show, the week before, gave us a handful of wonky carrots to feed them.
They were so friendly: like donkey, like owner!
A gaggle of her geese gave us the ‘gander’ in the next field and a derelict farm house, hinted at a brighter past.
Some five hours and 12 miles after starting, I was supping a brew with Andy and Janet in their lofty conservatory, before heading down to my daughter’s studio in Pateley for a lift home.
Rosie wasn’t finished with her work yet and I still had energy to burn, despite having already walked 32,000 steps.
I declined the deferred lift and walked home with Tip, her border collie.
We stopped at High Crag as usual, for our customary breather and panoramic view.
By the time we got home, I had walked over 17 miles and over 44,000 steps.
More significantly, I had also closed the gap on Alex, who was now only 13,000 steps ahead of me.
I had a chance!
With one day left to take that coveted gold medal!
Wednesday arrived!
‘D Day!
I walked throughout the day, but so did Alex.
Actually, it was more likely that he ran.
By 8.40pm Alex was only 10,000 steps ahead of me but it looked like his own evening exertions had calmed down.
His step counter had not registered an increase on the app for the last hour.
Could I subtly ‘take him out’ in the remaining 3 hours of September 2026?
Armed with my trusty headtorch I resolved to walk the local village circuit which I reckoned would give me around 8,000 stpes and then look to see if he had responded.
An hour and 8K worth of steps later, I was now only 6,000 steps behind him.
Surely not?
Could the impossible dream actually happen?
I started my second 3.5 mile lap of the villages, having ditched my waterproof jacket and thermal top at home.
It was warm and I was sweating!
Unbelievably, I was running now and thats when my phone started to ping with multiple messages on repeat.
Tyrus had rumbled my actions and he started to commentate by text on my progress, urging me to “go faster, further, for longer!”
My good friend Goncalo had also seen the ‘live update’ on the app and he started messaging me, exhorting me to go faster and stronger.
Jake joined in, then Dan and Eddy.
I was alone but I wasn’t.
I felt the buzz that elite athletes must feel when their supporters are unconditionally willing them on.
Buoyed by this phenomenal support I discovered energy I didn’t know existed.
I was running for 10 minutes, then walking for five, on repeat.
And Alex?
He was still doing very little.
I stopped after my second lap of the villages and unbelievably I was now in the lead by 900 steps.
Tyrus was beside himself.
He sent me a video note claiming I was a machine!
I retreated to have a bath. I felt elated but spent.
My euphoria evaporated quicker than the hot water in that tub!
Alex had rumbled my movements and he was now on the march and had actually moved 1900 steps ahead of me with only 55 minutes left.
Strategy became my secret weapon.
Barely able to contain myself, I re-dressed, forced myself to sit still for 35 minutes so that I barely registeried a step on the app.
And then, with Tyrus video message roaring in my ears, I went for it.
Outside once again, I ran back up our lane and back down it: approximately 1000 steps in 6 minutes, both ways.
Jake’s messages were peppering my ears!
Tyrus was back on the video link screaming his support.
One of his housemates was crumpled at the kitchen table, laughing uncontrollably!
With just five minutes to go, I deliberately chose the flattest section of tarmac along our lane and I sprinted.
Messages flew in from the other boys: cheering me on.
As my iPhone marked midnight, I sank to my knees.
And then Tyrus went stark, raving mad.
“You beat him” he yelled!
Unbelievably, I had overtaken Alex once again and recorded 200 steps more than him.
Spandau Ballet’s anthem boomed in my ears:
‘Gold’.
I savoured its lyrics:
The other boys were going bonkers!
I was wasted but euphoric.
Within a minute of hitting the pillow, I was fast asleep.
Group administrator, and another key supporter, Dan, made the official winning announcement just after 9am on 1st October.
But as with all the greatest sporting dramas, things weren’t as they appeared.
Within an hour a full VAR-like ‘Stewards Enquiry’ had begun.
Apparently ‘Gadget Boy’ Alex’s Garmin watch had failed to register his last half hour of late nocturnal step, as midnight struck.
Outrage erupted in the chat.
Why were we even having this inquiry?
Who would be the victor?
In one post, Jake compared the controversy to this year’s African Cup of Nation’s final fiasco.
Poor Dan was noticeably struggling to handle such an unforeseen situation.
He promised a revision of the playing rules for the next month challenge in October.
And then his BIG reveal.
Alex’s steps had been scrutinised and independently authenticated.
He had actually run another couple of thousand steps.
As quickly as my crown had been won, it was lost.
“Unbelievable Jeff” is a common expression used by the great sporting commentators of our time.
This result was unbelievable and unprecedented.
I sought legal advice (with myself!) and I contemplated contacting football’s governing body FIFA, before realising that the allegations of ‘Fix It For Argentina’ after England’s World Cup semi final defeat in June 2026, had been clearly replaced by ‘Fix it For Alex’.
That hugely unpopular FIFA General Secretary Gianni Infantino has even more to answer for now.
I totally blame him for this mess!
Crestfallen, I even contemplated threatening to consult with football icon Cristiano Ronaldo, whilst in Portugal.
We go there on holiday soon.
And then a familiar song pulled me back into the land of reality.
“Let it be!”
“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be”
Alex had won fair and square.
The influence of technology was undoubedly to blame for the incorrect result posting
I realized that I really couldn’t complain when my competitor had definitely run further,
I offered him my genuine congratulations followed by a choice of ‘pistols at dawn’ or a penalty shootout in a goal net of his choosing.
He ignored those magnanimous gestures.
But I also remembered that ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’ and I resolved to go one better when the end of October freeze concludes the next ‘Step Up Challenge’ and finishes on that most ironic of freezing cold nights – Halloween!
In a potential script for the best Hammer House of Horror movie of all time, anything could happen!
And so there it was!
Within the space of 8 days I had podiumed twice in 2 very different competitions.
A second place for cake making at the Nidderdale Agricultural Show, followed by a second place in the BTG September Steps Challenge.
In that final week of September I had walked more than 222,000 steps.
I left the last word to Dan who had to umpire his way through this whole administrative mess:
In an Infantino style press conference, Dan promised:
“I will bring in new PSR: ‘Post Step Restrictions’ rules for next time.”
And as with all forms of top level sport, my 2 days of high stakes competition showed that scandals can hit at every level of the sporting world – FIFA, Manchester City FC and now the ‘BTG Leeds Steps Challenge’.
Thanks for the read.
I hope you enjoyed it.
Martin x
Massive thanks to my Derbyshire based Editor in Chief, Sarah Cross. Sarah has helped implement system whereby we hope to make my typos a thing of the past.. Hopefully her attention to detail has helped me to go ‘💯% typo free’ at last!
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All of my photographs are ‘seen as ‘scene’!’ I really want you to see what I saw when I pressed my shutter: not a man made touch up that becomes a non reality.
Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter Rosie and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.
Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, Rosie, Harry and Jake, all happily married too. In his spare time Martin loves grand-parenting, walking, photography, blogging, football, renovating, cooking and chatting frequently rubbish to anyone who will listen!
