The Sutherland Shire sure is a great place to grow up. We always referred to it as ‘The Shire,’ a name which seems to have caught on not only across Sydney but nationally as well.

The area was opened up when the electric railway came through in the 1930s but it wasn’t until after the war, in the 1950s, that families bought up their quarter-acre blocks, many with views to either Botany Bay to the north, the Pacific Ocean to the east or the Port Hacking River to the south.

With some exceptions, the new arrivals were mainly from Anglo-Celtic backgrounds including my own parents.

Certainly the love of rugby league was taken across Tom Ugly’s bridge, and why wouldn’t it – the Shire was still part of the St George district when the St George Dragons began their 11-year premiership winning streak in 1956.

The burgeoning population soon demanded their own team and in 1967 the Cronulla-Sutherland Sharks were admitted to the NSWRFL competition along with the Penrith Panthers.

Their original ground, Sutherland Oval, was a graveyard for visiting teams and home teams alike. Hardly surprising as it backed on to the sprawling Woronora cemetery.

Perhaps spooked by the spirits, the Sharks soon moved to their now spiritual home of Endeavour Field (Shark Park) at Woolooware and the chant of “Shark-ies! Shar-kies!” from the mouths of pre-pubescent youths was heard for the first time. It was a decent ground to watch rugby league and still is, being right up close to the action.

When the Sharks made their first ever grand final in 1973, the district went berserk for their team. Soon, watching a Sharks match at Endeavour Field was added to going to the beach, and hanging out at Miranda Fair as essential rites of passage for locals. In winter I found myself spending every second Sunday at Endeavour Field.

Even with the love for rugby league, there was always a big soccer community and every weekend in autumn and winter the playing fields were packed with soccer players.

For many years, the Sutherland Shire Football Association has claimed to be the biggest junior association in the country.

But soccer was almost a dirty word. It wasn’t a sport talked about in polite company. People talked rugby league. rugby league was ‘football’ or ‘footy.’ Football was called ‘soccer’ by some, ‘wogball’ by others.

Even during weekend junior soccer games, no one ever considered talking about soccer. On Saturdays, the club rooms at soccer grounds would either show the rugby league match of the day on the TV or have Frank Hyde’s voice calling rugby league through a crackling radio.

But for some of us, with parents fond of football and brought up on UK soccer programs such as: The Big Match hosted by Brian Moore, the Midlands based Star Soccer, and Match of the Day with Jimmy Hill, the heaving crowds and spectacular goals from English football grounds made an impression.

One day, with my brothers and a few friends I stepped into the enemy camp – a football ground, call it soccer if you will.

That ground was Seymour Shaw Park, home of the Sutherland Shire soccer club who were currently in the top flight of the NSW competition. The ground was just a short downhill stroll from Miranda Fair shopping centre. And although the capacity could not have been more than 2,000, it always had an electric atmosphere. The stadium was rectangular and a stray kick could knock a sausage roll out of your hand.

For us, it was like stepping into another world. There was a vendor walking through the crowd selling peanuts. No Golden Gaytimes or Lime Splices, just warm peanuts in a bag. After a while we would buy some. And they were bloody good.

Then there was another bloke who used to sell the soccer paper. I distinctly remember his monotone call which could cut through the sound of a jet engine, “Programme, Soccer World! Programme, Soccer World!” in a thick European accent with the r’s well and truly rolled. He never varied his tone from week to week or year to year.

The programmes were printed on coloured paper. Green is one of the colours I remember. And sometimes we bought a copy. The papers smelt of ink and you would often get some of those words on your fingers.

Inside were ads for Italian and Greek-based businesses; lists of football leagues across the country and across the world; and here we were thinking the only league in existence had teams called Arsenal, Leeds United and Liverpool! It felt like reading subversive literature.

I guess I would have started going to matches there in the early 70s, well before any national competition. I distinctly remember the first match I watched.

The first grade game had already started and as we made our way past the goal I saw the Sutherland goalkeeper, dressed entirely in green, unfold his body like a giant Praying Mantis and fling out an arm and tip the white ball over the crossbar. I could hear the sound of his fingertips on the leather.

It was an impression that has stayed with me and is as strong as the one where John Aloisi booted the winning penalty for the Socceroos to qualify for the 2006 World Cup which I was also fortunate enough to witness.

Since Sutherland were usually at the bottom of the table, their goalkeeper got plenty of practice and would make a habit of pulling off spectacular saves. His name was Allan ‘Spider’ Maher and I believe he eventually played for Australia.

Another Sutherland player I remember was a shaggy haired right fullback who used to put in these perfect diagonal crosses that would either get headed in, hit the crossbar or had to be punched clear by the goalkeeper. The fullback’s name was Steve Perry and I thought he was the best crosser of the ball I had ever seen. I still do.

I would never forget the roar when the home team scored a goal, especially when the scores were close. I don’t think any sport has such a strong emotional pull when a score is made, perhaps something to do with the lower scoring nature of football.

There was one time Sutherland pulled back a 2-0 half time deficit to beat Auburn 3-2. It was magical. I doubt I have ever cheered so much in my life.

Of course, it was the visiting teams and their loyal supporters that truly piqued my interest and where all similarities with watching the Sharks at Endeavour Field ended. The majority of the teams had an ethnic backing.

For the most part I never knew which particular community backed each team but for clubs such as Yugal Prague and St George Budapest there were clues. You could find Prague and Budapest on maps, in the pink colours of the countries behind the Iron Curtain.

There was Polonia, a team with Polish heritage. Pan Hellenic who played in vertical blue and white stripes and blue shorts who I assume were the forerunner of Sydney Olympic. And of course St George Budapest, the neighbouring club, provided my first taste of how exciting local derbies could be.

The big three clubs I remember were Hakoah (with a Jewish following) and the two Italian backed sides, APIA Leichhardt and Marconi Fairfield. These teams always brought a sizeable crowd with them.

Then there was Granville, who Sutherland always seemed to be battling with at the bottom of the ladder. Those bottom of the table matches were always good to watch because we knew our team had a chance of winning.

The visiting supporters were mostly men. They would stand on the grassy slopes (never sit) and sometimes smoke while watching the game. I don’t remember any kind of singing, but rather deep throated chants. Some would wear leather jackets, dark button-up shirts and dark trousers but never jeans. It was probably the first time I had seen white or cream shoes that weren’t sneakers.

Come to think of it, the away supporters were generally very well dressed, putting our Brady Bunch striped t-shirts and paisley board shorts to shame. By game time the ground was close to full and the noise of the crowd was sensational.

After the game the visiting fans would head off westwards across the junior soccer fields and netball courts into the lengthening shadows and drive off to suburbs unknown to us. Thinking of this now, those men, who might have been in their 30s or 40s, probably had supported their clubs since their inception. Those still alive now would be in their 70s or 80s. I regard them as pioneers of sorts.

Football had a great surge of support when the Socceroos qualified for the World Cup in 1974. I remember following that campaign and the fantastic goal scored by Jimmy Mackay in Hong Kong which put us through. It was an incredible moment and I was spellbound watching the Socceroos games in the World Cup Finals. We didn’t score a goal but against West Germany, Australia hit the upright, and in the 0-0 draw with Chile we hit the crossbar.

Players of the period I remember include the double A’s of Atti Abonyi and Adrian Alston, Ray Richards, Ray Baartz, Branko Buljevic, Manfred Schaeffer, Peter Wilson, Doug Utjesenovic and Johnny Warren.

There was a time, and I have rarely read anything about it, when there was a kind of Australian club championship played. It was held in Melbourne and involved the top four teams from both New South Wales and Victoria. There were group matches and a final and I remember it being televised. I am not sure how many years this tournament was played but by 1977 it would have been redundant.

When the national league rolled around in 1977 we lost interest in the local team. No second-tier football for us, particularly when there seemed no likelihood of promotion and relegation. And besides, why would you watch second tier football when you could see Cronulla playing top-tier rugby league.

The league was initially called the PSL, after its sponsor Phillips, and we followed it as best we could. It started off on commercial television. There were some interesting teams in those early days including Footscray JUST and the long forgotten Mooroolbark United. Considering all the angst about expanding the A-League these days, it may surprise some people that there were two Adelaide teams (West Adelaide and Adelaide City) and at one stage there were two Brisbane teams, City and Lions.

One of the revelations was Newcastle KB United. They were called KB after a brand of beer put out by their sponsors, Tooth and Co. A giant inflatable beer can was installed near the ground, similar to Central Coast Mariners’ sauce bottles. Newcastle’s playing kits of gold with red and black trimming even resembled cans of KB.

Against Sydney Olympic they drew a crowd of 18,000. It seemed that soccer was on its way up.

Lack of success by the Socceroos didn’t help the sport and eventually the NSL got a bit weird. I remember there being an American-style conference system where the conference winners played in a two-legged final.

I even watched one of those finals at Barton Park, home ground of the old St George Budapest and seemingly just off the main runway of the airport. Sydney Olympic were the representative from the ‘Northern’ conference and I can’t recall who the ‘Southern’ representative was.

A national final it may have been, but with a 747 coming in to land about 50 feet above the centre circle every five minutes it killed the atmosphere.

In an effort to make the sport more appealing to the masses, American style nicknames were introduced. Sydney City became the Slickers. Marconi became the Leopards before changing their spots to the Stallions. South Melbourne were the Gunners and Canberra were known as the Arrows, a logo belonging to their sponsors, Lotto. It was all getting a bit strange.

Other than a spectacular grand final where Wollongong pulled back a 3-0 deficit against Perth in front of a packed Subiaco and a grand final featuring Brisbane Strikers playing in front of a huge crowd at Lang Park, I pretty much lost touch with the local game from the mid 80s until the A-League and World Cup qualification breathed fresh life into football in the mid 2000s.

Football in Australia still creates division in some sporting conversations but with a history going back to the 19th century it is as much a part of Australian culture as any other sport. And it has changed so much since I first started following it.

Yet, despite all the progress and professionalism, I still consider the semi-professional game in the 70s and early 80 as a golden era of Australian football.

If I went back in time would I still set foot inside that suburban football ground in the Sutherland Shire? Sure would.