The unofficial archives of Tiverton Town Football Club
So who do you suppose keeps Jelly Babies in his sock (and actually likes the green ones) captained his school's first fifteen rugby team, and would have loved to be a semi professional basketball player? The same man who paradoxically doesn't like to be defined as 'the football player' but was the Non-League Player of the Year 1998, scored a record 358 goals so far in his ten year career and has just been voted the Tiverton Town web site 'All Time Tivvy Hero' by a margin that is larger than a very large thing.
When I interviewed him at his Sampford Peverell home on Friday, I'd never seen him out of a footballing context, and my first impressions were that he was a tall, quietly confident self-effacing man who doesn't really know what the fuss is about, and rather wonders if someone is about to say 'Ah, sorry- we didn't actually mean you.' Apart from the odd game of football with jumpers for goalposts in his Uplyme primary school yard, Phil's interest in football didn't really catch fire until he played central defence in the Lyme Regis Under 12's Dorset League - and was regularly hammered 6-0. He transferred to Woodroffe School, and the Under 13's, still being beaten all over Dorset until, at the grand age of 14, the team joined the East Devon League, and surprised themselves by beating everybody else.
This successful streak continued with his inclusion in Men's League Basketball by the age of 14 and being made captain of the school first fifteen-rugby team. By 1985 Phil was regularly playing rugby for Sidmouth, and during the teacher's strike of the same year, took over the school rugby training sessions. I wondered why he didn't pursue a career in rugby rather than football- apparently football and rugby training were on the same day, and he chose football for the simple reason that it left you more likely to retain a full set of teeth and considerably less bruises.
Basketball? Somehow the sport people of a certain age equate with the Harlem Globetrotters doesn't fit with what most people think they know about Phil, but if he had a choice, he would much much rather be playing semi-professional basketball. The thing with the Globetrotters was you always knew they'd win, but not till the very last second, when your mum clouted you for bouncing on the sofa and attempting to score baskets in her best vase. All of which has strange parallels with Phil's career. At school, the PE staff did their best to persuade him to take up teaching-an obvious choice, you might have thought, with his sporting record, but he wasn't interested. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but it wasn't teaching. After receiving numerous rejection slips from various universities, he went to Stafford Polytechnic on a four-year course reading Modern Studies. He left after the first year, having had enough of geography, economics, world politics and french.
Interviews such as this one necessarily make you reflect on your life choices and their effect. 'I think I grew up in that year- when you live in digs, away from your family and friends, you become much more self reliant. That and the landlady's enormous Neanderthal sons who collected the rent at the end of the month. That cheque was always on the table first!' To keep himself occupied on Sundays- always the worst day of the week in digs when everybody else is tucking into vast roast dinners with their relatives- he would go to the sports hall by himself and shoot baskets or just kick a ball against the wall. Here the feelings of rootlessness grew, and the realization that the careers open to him after graduation just didn't appeal. Well, can you imagine Philip Everett MP, or as a translator to the EU in Brussels, wearing a suit and attending meetings primarily concerned with the exact size of sausages in Luxembourg? No, didn't think so.
Nationally, St Luke's College Exeter University has one of the very best reputations for producing teachers of Physical Education. He got in by the backdoor after contacting his old PE teacher back in Uplyme, who personally recommended him, recognizing a potential teacher when he saw one. The kid who described himself at school as 'a lazy git' and whose reports invariably said 'Philip is not prepared to work' matured into an undergraduate studying PE and Mathematics. Very gradually he realized that he was enjoying his studies, actually liked teaching and was rather good at it.
He thought he knew everybody on campus, but one day a girl appeared in the student bar, and Phil was smitten. He desperately wanted to be putty in her hands- except that he didn't know her name, couldn't see her properly as she was hiding behind her hair and hadn't a clue which course she was on either. 'I tailed her for weeks. Luckily, she felt the same way about me!' Anna and Phil married in 1992. She fancied climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, but he didn't like the sound of 'mountain' and 'climb', so they went to the Maldives. Unfortunately they went at the wrong time of year, and spent two hot, damp weeks in the monsoon season reading airport novels and snorkeling- about the only place they couldn't get any damper. This would seem to support the view that honeymoons are so named because they're sticky and most of the interesting stuff happens at night. 'We didn't have much money, so we planned to eat cheap local food and climb trees for fruit, but didn't realize that as the island is so tiny, almost everything has to imported at huge expense'.
At the time Phil was in his first job on the PE staff at Clyst Vale Community College, and he's stayed there ever since. I asked if he was ambitious, and whether he would like to progress further in his teaching career. He told me that he's been asked to apply for promotion as head of year, but declined on the grounds that 'there's too much stress, too much work and too many responsibilities- I'd rather be enjoying myself with Anna and the kids than worrying about the job.' When he talks about his job, it's easy to see why he's not ambitious- why spoil a good thing? 'It's relaxing, outside, and most kids like sport. You don't have to fight to make them sit in one place- and you get to send the stroppy ones for nice long runs around the field. Perfect!' Even better, he can play rugby without getting trampled 'The most hard bitten kids seem to think twice about tackling me' Well, its just not the done thing to trample Sir into the mud, is it? 'And they never see when I'm selling them a dummy- great!' Phil's face lights up with enthusiasm when he talks about his job, and its easy to see why he's such an inspiring teacher- he genuinely likes kids. 'It's easier to build a relationship with them on the field than in the classroom, and the kids who don't do so well in academic classes often shine in sports –they have an opportunity to be top' Even though he studied Maths as his second subject at St. Luke's, he's never officially taught it. Alongside PE he's now teaching GNVQ Leisure and Tourism, which allows him to indulge his fascination for maps and figures, as well as offering both GCSE and A level Physical Education courses.
Phil seems a pretty laid back sort of person, so my next question 'What do you do to relax?' might have been a bit superfluous. 'Gardening' he said, happily. 'Destructive gardening!' Not something I'd noticed old Tichmarsh extolling the virtues of, somehow. I asked if we were talking ray guns in the rhubarb, or hand grenades in the herbaceous border, but not so. What Phil means is that he likes cutting things down. He likes climbing things and cutting them down, and has been known to walk around the village, eyeing up the trees. He remarked to one lady that he fancied being a tree surgeon, and when she replied 'well, that tree there needs to come down' he didn't need asking twice. His sons Alex and Harry went with him to witness the sight of Daddy swinging from branch to branch of a rapidly shrinking tree, bowsaw in hand. Rather more interesting than a banana, if less edible. Surprisingly, his garden doesn't resemble the Somme after a particularly nasty barrage, but is very neat and tidy. Well, you wouldn't grow out of line with a destructive gardener around would you? He's enthusiastic about deadheading and digging and is the proud owner of a ferocious hedge trimmer, which might explain why the garden is edged with six-foot wooden fences. I didn't like to ask what happened to the hedge. Worryingly, this tendency seems to have been around for a while. At the age when most delinquents set fire to bus shelters, or graffiti the cricket hut, Everett junior got delicately blabbered at a friend's party, weaved off to the garden shed and …neatly trimmed the lawn with the edging shears. Luckily for the inhabitants of Uplyme, he had a part time job as a gardener's assistant and was officially permitted to mow, trim and construct bonfires. I asked if he'd ever considered a career in Landscape Gardening 'I wouldn't have minded being a Tree Surgeon' he said 'climbing trees and sawing bits off sounds all right to me'
I asked about how he saw himself 'My worst faults? Hmm, pedantic, perfectionist, procrastinator. And I don't like coleslaw. All those slimy bits and raw cabbage' And his good points? ' I'm good at climbing trees' He's a likeable sort of chap who seems to suffer from the peculiarly English supposition that it isn't quite the done thing to identify good points in ones character. After using the thumbscrews, he thought he might also be 'Patient, honest, relaxed and tolerant' all of which illustrate why he's a respected member of the team. He is very reluctant to accept that he is regarded as a hero. As a kid he supported West Brom, and Cyrille Regis was his hero for the simple reason that his name sounded vaguely like 'Lyme Regis' and they played in the same colours as the local team. I asked how he would define a hero, and after some thought he said 'Someone who people look up to and respect. Someone who's done something for other people, or the establishment.' It seems to me that he is a hero by his own valuation- in the last decade he has consistently worked hard, and has provided as many goals as he has scored. Phil would probably be the first to admit that he's not the most skilful player in the squad, but in the ten years since he joined Tivvy, he has only been booked four times, and never sent off. Mr. Everett is rather like the TV advert for varnish – you get exactly what's written on the tin.
He has earned the respect of both the players and supporters because he has kept this high standard throughout his career. The little matter of the Non-League Player of the Year award, which he tends to play down, is an award given by the footballing establishment to honour a player who exemplifies the qualities of sportsmanship and skill- not an everyday combination, that. As team boss Martyn Rodgers described him to the press, he is 'an excellent player, good with both feet and strong in the air. He's a real workhorse who never knows when he's beaten and he's as honest as the day is long.' He's popular with both players and supporters to the extent that he has a small army of ladies who conceal sweets in their handbags at strategic intervals around the pitch, just in case his jelly-baby level falls dangerously low. 'And I'm not telling you where', he said.
'I don't want the rest of 'em getting to the sweeties first- they'd scoff the lot!'
Finally I asked him the all-important question. 'If you were to wear your pants over your shorts, which super-hero would you like to be?' Difficult question, that. Is x-ray vision better than being able to fly? Would being able to freeze things instantly be more use than an ability to grow 6” steel claws out of your knuckles- and would it hurt? At school he wanted to be the Invisible Man- you could hear what people were saying about you and, most importantly, you could sneak into the staff room and see what actually went on. The drawback to invisibility was that people might shoot you. Why the young Everett should think that villains would be predisposed to shoot somebody who didn't appear to be there remains a mystery. After weighing up the pros and cons, Phil decided on Spiderman- better pants, much cleverer than Batman and the all important ability to climb anything - useful when cutting down trees. If you ever see Spiderman streaking up a tree near you, hide the chainsaw. You might end up with less than you bargained for.
'Anyway', he concluded the interview with a grin 'how do you know I wear pants?'