Memory Lane Part 18: The Second Time Was Where I Really Lost My Virginity

 Now, for someone who's been on the bleeding edge of the hobby for so long, and a lifelong creature of the swamp that is the convention scene, I discovered the Sheffield Triples, sort of by accident.

As previously related, I'd got my feet in so many gaming doors in a short time, that I began to feel like a baseball booted centipede. 

It was a surprisingly muggy Spring Saturday morning when Alan and I stepped from the 278 bus in Sheffield city centre and walked oalong the road below the Royal Victoria Station Hotel towards the Castle Market and and the gallery where, at Hopkinson's toys, we would find our weekly fix of gaming goodness. 

It was as we walked the last few yards at ground level that we bumped into 'Snitch', Sean and Craig our younger friends from the Monday night club run by Steve Roberts at Limpsfield School. We asked them what brought them into town so early, as there were not known as early risers which often played havoc with our weekend and holiday gaming schedule. Because we were in the year above at school, we didn't really mix that much through the week so it was very easy for us to lose touch on gaming related matters that might crop up along the way. Remember, this was a time before the Internet, mobile phones and possibly even carrier pigeons!

The lads said they were going to 'The Triples'at the Royal Victoria Hotel and that it was wargaming show that Steve was involved in. Of course, Alan and I had much more important things to do and waved them away (it appears that even then my sense of arrogance was well tuned as was Alan's) before continuing on our mission for the day.

It was just after lunch - the obligatory chip butty on French stick of course, with ketchup and lots of butter - that we wandered back through town musing on what The Triples could be, and decided to go over to the Victoria and see what the fuss was about. When we got there - and I am a little hazy about this, which is not the norm for me - we didn't have to pay to get in.

I assume that somebody must've recognised it or simply decided that to unaccompanied teenagers didn't have to pay to get in. I assume the former, because I was becoming a known face at the club albeit a new one.

Now many of you will remember fondly the Octagon Centre, which whilst the most iconic location for the Triples, came later than the Royal Victoria, which was a rambling Victorian railway hotel which served as a slightly shabby hotel and convention location, but which with its sprawling floorplan and rabbit warren of rooms, I loved.

Because we had been unaware of this great show (I stand before you ashamed at this disclosure, but to be fair, until you try something how do you know you'll like it - a bit like morris dancing, incest or grapefruit flavoured real ale) we had nothing to spend except a few pence. I think I may have had about 80p left in my pocket.

We came upon a long series of tables piled high with Miniatures books and other junk all with raffle tickets taped to them. Now, as anybody who has worked on a bring and buy knows, it's only a matter of time before a clueless noob comes along and asks where they can buy tickets for the raffle. On this day, I was that noob...

Fortunately, on that fateful afternoon Steve Roberts was actually on the stand, recognised me, and patiently explained the concept of the bring and buy. 

I was really taken by some tiny military vehicles, and this was my first introduction to 6mm scale figures. There was a massive box of what I know now were Cold War Russians, and I picked 10 and asked how much they were. Now, obviously these were part of an army and not for sale individually, but the guy behind the stand - who for the record will remain nameless - sold these 10 pieces for 50p, leading me to buy another four.

Alan and I went home shortly thereafter and made some simple rules and played with these 14 models for weeks, totally disregarding the fact that they were all Russian. The important thing was that we were playing games and enjoying doing so. After all is this not what the hobby is actually about?

By 1983, I'd become a regular member of Sheffield Wargames Society and knew what Triples was all about, with 1983 being the first year that I took part in running the show. It was hard work unloading and helping to set up the traders and displays, but it was here that I started to get to know some of the 'Faces' of the hobby, many of whom are still friends to this day. It was also where I began to learn the art of buying and selling Games and Figures and moreover where I really started to get to know people such as Lloyd Powell the late Peter Armstrong, Dave Hoyles and Terry Wise, two of whom are no longer with us apart from in memory.

It was at the Royal Victoria that I also saw the emergence of 25mm scale fantasy gaming when The Players Guild began to bring their epic Warhammer and Judge Dredd display games each year. They were frankly, fucking amazing to behold. I really don't care what today's generation say about the standard of modern display games, painting or modelling. This was a time before affordable acrylic paints, specialist modelling products or mass produced miniature ranges. It was a time before the gentle upward slope to the modern plethora of modelling products. 

What we were seeing was the wargaming equivalent of the lumbering Vulcan bomber, suddenly going vertical. If you haven't seen that then look it up on YouTube. It's a great way to visualise what the Players Guild, South London Warlords and for visual RPG exoperiences, the Sheffield Runelords were achieving at the time. They were simply miles ahead of anybody else.

These days, I walked past display games which, whilst unarguably beautiful, like the soul and innovation of those early days. No doubt some of you will see this as the opinionated ranting of an old man, but if you were there, at that time, in those places, witnessing the birth of the future, you will know that this is far from rose tinted hyperbole. It's a fact.

Having had a year to plan and save money, as well as discover new periods and games, I was amazed at the sheer variety and volume of gaming stuff that was available. And the quality of what was available cannot be stressed enough. This was a time when there were very few resellers at shows, with perhaps only two or three traders who ran shops, not presenting their own product lines.

Regular stars in that gaming firmament were Essex Miniatures, Q.T Models, Connoisseur Miniatures, Irregular Miniatures and of course Tabletop Games overseen by the Bob Connor, who, whilst always seeming irascible and grumpy did some amazing deals for enthusiastic kids like your author. In fact, it was this show where I first came across the Laserburn 15mm scale range and rules as well as the Heroes Miniatures range, both on Bob's stand and with which I promptly filled the blue metal cantilever toolbox which went everywhere with me at the time. Yeah, yeah, I know...

I was finding my feet and having two days of living in what was basically a secret, unseen, other-life not only widened my my knowledge and love of wargaming, but also taught me how to interact with people considerably older than myself. It also gave me a true sense of belonging.

I think it's worth pointing out here that back then you didn't have to shout and rant and legislate for inclusion, because we were all there for the same fucking reason - to play games with dice and little Lead dollies - it mattering not about personal or identity politics, and that is how it should be. I really wish, I really hope that we regain some of that simplicity rather than having to constantly justify and box tick as we seem to have to do today.

It was also at the 1983 Triples, that I first entered a painting competition, and won - fuck all! It would be a year later that I took first place in the same competition and so launched over a decade of winning and painting competitions all across the country, until retiring in the late 90s, realising I no longer had anything to prove, and that looking at identical trophies and certificates did little for me.

Games Workshop also had a stand at the show, and it was here that I found out that GW Staffer, Pete Armstrong was also a founder member of Sheffield Wargames Society, although he no longer attended the club having moved on to found Sheffield Runelords and pursue his passion for role-playing games.

But, it did mean that once Pete realised that the denim clad pain in the ass who hung around Games Workshop making his life a living hell, was also a member of SWS, that same pain in the ass started to be able to have conversations with Pete and begin several years of studying at the Armstrong / Gilbride University Of Tact & Diplomacy, graduating three decades later 'summa cum laude', not long before Pete passed away way too early.

This particular year, I also found, tucked away in the side room of the Royal Victoria, the Jacobite Miniatures stand, with it characterful 15mm scale Ancient and Renaissance ranges as well as its Middle Earth range, which whilst very stylised, still cause shivers of pleasure to this very day.

I know we all think that the time we grew up was the best time ever, but I do think that the early to mid 1980s with the vibrant political scene, threat of nuclear annihilation and let's be honest, the greatest musical decade ever - don't even try to argue this one with me - presented a genuine golden age of popular culture, the likes of which I do not think we'll see again.

Many of those people who built the hobby and who led the charge in that golden age are now lost to us and the hobby is arguably and provably the worse for it. For the most part they were quiet modest people who lived for the hobby and expected little return for its promotion. I think that today we have put too many people on pedestals who are chasing financial reward over the forwarding and advancement of the hobby. It feels like a spinning wheel, churning out more straw than gold.

Those early days felt more innocent, more creative more innovative. I am certain that I'm not the only person of a certain age who feels like that truly wish the newcomers to the hobby today could experience that same sense of losing their wargames virginity in a similar fashion and in a similar environment. Certainly, that weekend of my second Triples, I left with so much lead (and £50 lighter of pocket - a lot of money back then) that I knew I'd truly lost my wargaming cherry.

My pet hate these days are the YouTubers who walk around experiencing a show through a slab of plexiglass and metal, posting the footage to the Internet in the hope of fame and fortune. They disregard the privacy of those who don't wish to be filmed, and I urge any of you who find yourselves recorded for posterity against your will to contact those responsible and demand that they remove the offending media.

Of course, Sheffield Triples became a victim of its own incestuous hubris and as a result we no longer have that show. It did not adapt to the times and thereby we lost away to connect the past of the hobby to its future and the hobby in the UK is immeasurably the worse for it. This saddens me to a degree I can only compare to the loss of a loved one or a pet. It really is that bad for me and I suppose, for others. Sheffield Wargames Society handled the failure of the show poorly and with a knee-jerk response. 

I am certain that they had more than sufficient funds in the bank to remedy the situation. They should've taken a hit for one year, offered a lower rate to traders and moreover have made the show free to enter for that year, along with openly admitting they fucked up and making it clear that the remedial action they were taking that following year was by way of an open apology to the hobby at large. I truly believe that had they thought outside of the box, we would still have that show in its traditional slot rather than the crepuscular concatenation which appears to amorphously filled the old Triples date with a bland, diluted, thrill free alternative, so much a mirror of the modern world.

But I digress. We can no longer experience those wonderful times and the hobby is certainly poorer for it. It is beyond words to convey what it's like to experience the birth of something which is taking for granted today, to be there at that time at that moment and to be part of it in some way.