This Sporting Life Britain on Film

Today the soccer star is entering a brave new world

in which living for kicks has its own special meaning.

The big occasion, fame, travel, are all part of the game,

and so now are high rewards.

All this, and the world at his feet,

and if he's a Jimmy Greaves, scoring here,

he has a price on his head to make even millionaires wince.

But behind the Saturday glory, the big game fervour,

is a highly competitive profession.

Out of thousands of players given trials every year,

by the top clubs of England, Scotland and Wales,

only a handful get as far as Burnley's Alex Elder

and sign professional forms to begin, at 17 or 18,

an exacting career in which only the best can hope to reach the top.

Here's the way many stars begin,

playing in the cobbled arenas of Clydeside and Lancashire,

or in the new parks and open spaces,

but it's not often that you'll find a First Division club's talent scout watching back-street players.

Who said it's tough at the top? What about the bottom!

Never in the 100 years of soccer

has so much help been given to those who want to learn the game.

Every year, between 400 and 500

school masters, youth leaders and others,

qualify as coaches under the Football Association scheme.

Coaches such as former West Ham player Malcolm Allison

visit schools at a cost to the FA of £10,000 a year

and more and more professionals are passing out

as fully fledged coaches.

Here's Jimmy Hill, the player who's done more than anyone

to win a new deal for professional footballers,

showing you've got to use your head.

Nowadays the more go-ahead clubs

take their responsibilities to young players very seriously.

West Ham United Chairman Reg Pratt is one of the many who believes

in preparing them for the time when their playing days are over.

Few players can stand the pace and strain of modern football

beyond their mid-30s.

But now how's our young professional getting on?

He's following the example of the best and getting down to it,

and, to an old player, there's nothing so sweet

as to see a star in the making.

Dedicated, self-disciplined, strong in the tackle, fearless,

and with keen positional sense,

Alex Elder's got most of the things that it takes

to make a top-class player.

Day after working day he practises,

polishing those moves that have helped put Burnley

among the footballing elite of Europe,

along with Spurs and the famous Rangers of Glasgow.

Ever since the professional footballer was recognised

more than 75 years ago, his status has been improving -

slowly and against opposition, most of the time,

but lately very quickly.

Today he's neither a slave, nor is he pampered -

he gives pleasure to millions.

With the top clubs he gets the best medical attention,

with everything from heat lamps to a wax bath,

designed to get the swellings out of sprained ankles.

Yet, in the end, everything comes down to the player himself -

to his character, his determination to keep on top of his game,

and this can mean austere living.

He moves through the junior teams, into the reserves,

and then, if he's good enough, into the first team.

This is the moment he's waited for - into the cauldron he goes.

Those who really make football the big game

are the dedicated players, like Elder.

they know the glory and also the cost of having the ball at their feet.

For the first time in the Cup's short, hectic history,

the final rounds came to be played in Britain,

in the islands where the game, as we now know it,

was born more than a century ago.

England had never won the World Cup, had never been in its final,

but Alf Ramsey always believed that it could be done.

Bobby Moore and Bobby Charlton are but two of his star-laden training squad - key men.

It was said that Ramsey gets the best from his stars

when he has them abroad on foreign tours.

So a vital programme of international games

was arranged before the start of the cup matches.

It was designed to give the manager his chance to knit together a team of world-class

and world-class it has to be.

A few years ago, the England team wasn't rated with an outside chance,

but Alf Ramsey never agreed and it was a tribute to him that,

as the World Cup series drew near,

so his team became favourites, with the holders, Brazil.

More than a million people all over the country

now play what used to be a rich man's game.

The young, the old, and even the disabled.

Once they fall for it, they never lose the charm

of this infuriating and enchanting game.

Experts reckon that more than £20 million is spent on the game

every year in Britain alone.

In club dues, green fees and equipment.

Young tournament player Anne Sutton shows what it's like

to give the game the full treatment.

She has her own trolley, a full bag of matched clubs

and all the gadgets that golfers grow to love,

not to mention sporting tailor-mades and special shoes.

Her clubs and outfit would cost about £120,

and she makes them look well worth it.

There are more than 3,000 golf clubs in Britain

and hundreds of public or municipal courses

on which a work-a-day round costs half a crown or so.

Of these last, the best known is probably Richmond Park, near London,

where play starts at seven in the morning.

Even at that early hour there's often a small queue of cars,

some of them with players who've just come off night work

and who book their places to tee off.

You don't have to be a millionaire to play golf today,

it's no longer just a game for the rich or the leisurely.

Nearly half a million women, many of them housewives, now play it.

Some of them with desperate seriousness,

others because it makes a break from the kitchen sink.

Many of the experiments are carried out at Loughborough College of Advanced Technology.

A man is wired up to a delicate instrument

that records the tiny electric impulses

that are produced by his nerves when his muscles are in action.

These minute currents produce a movement on the needle,

varying according to the way the muscles are working.

So the machine gives a scientific picture of what happens in a golf swing

and how the various muscles are used.

Nothing could look simpler than putting - until you try it!

But what goes wrong? Why don't they all drop?

A test surface and thousands of putts

all recorded on a punch-card system

are helping to supply the answer.

Out on a practice ground, a young woman golfer

helps to test the effect of her swing on the club under playing conditions.

That's one thing certain about golfers -

they have an intense curiosity about this game

and they'll take endless trouble to get their swing into a groove

so that they hit the ball in the same way every time they look at it.

Then there's another side to the question the experts are asking -

how exactly does the golf ball behave as it spins its way through the air?

This could have a bearing on the way you hit it.

The answer's to be found at the Royal Military College of Science,

at Shrivenham, in a wind tunnel, where scientists and engineers

can recreate conditions similar to the speed and flight of a ball.

Back at Loughborough, the scientists will often use a computer.

They feed into the machine all the information they've obtained by their experiments

and, in the end, the computer can tell them what the golfer has done,

in terms of mathematics.

The golf swing - its secrets will take some years to put on paper.

When it's really explained by the scientists,

it will help players, not only of golf, but all sorts of games.

The spirit of cricket still abides in the villages,

where, on Friday evenings,

men like painter, medium-paced bowler, Cyril Ackman,

start thinking about tomorrow's game.

For young Brian, the deep field.

Marking creases - builder George.

Light mower - Ron Cummings, wondering perhaps about his lunch.

It's his wife Olive's turn to cut the sandwiches,

for at every home match two wives take it in turn

to prepare, deliver, and serve tea.

Today it's Olive Cummings and Pat Goodall.

The mixture of dour contest and amiable picnic proceeds

with up-to-the-minute information provided.

At last, tea! Those taking part -

22 performers, scorers, and one hopeful dog.

From village green to cricket's centre of gravity -

the most famous pitch of all.

The sacred core of 19 and a half acres of priceless property,

where cricket has been played by the Marylebone Cricket Club for 150 years.

Yes, this is Lords.

Cricket at Lords doesn't just happen, there's a ritual.

The fielding side file through the historic long room,

packed with the ghosts of cricketers

whose achievements and peculiarities are frequently revived

by the commentators.

The opening batsmen follow.

Cricket, like other sports, is a career.

Today there are no gentlemen, no players, there are just cricketers.

The one certain thing about cricket

is that it can always be relied on to start a discussion.

If it's not the bowlers, it's the batsman.

If it's not the players, it's the laws.

The impact of cricket varies -

to some the game is sacred, to some a background for knitting,

and others it makes no impact at all.

Style, colours, the right anorak,

and, of course, those eye-catching ski trousers.

What does it cost to become a skier?

You can get your equipment for around £30

and a fortnight on the slopes costs between £40-£50.

Beginners need to exercise long before they reach the snow fields.

Schools, like this, in a famous London sports shop,

prepare novices for the adventure to come.

Muscles used in skiing are neglected most of the year

and former ski champion Annie Moray knows how to tone them up.

Swing, swing, keep going, now, from the hips!

For fun and competition,

some 85,000 skiers leave for the continent every winter from Britain.

Thousands go by rail or air, in parties laid on by travel agents.

Others get their skiing nearer home.

Today Scotland has over 20 ski centres strung across its Highlands,

from Glencoe to the mighty Cairngorms.

Local Scots enthusiasts put up this chair lift,

working through the summer months.

Older hands at the game think the present generation of skiers

is being softened by all this mechanisation.

One last check.

Safety bindings on modern skis have done a lot to cut the accident rate,

but even at this altitude,

the force of gravity is still what it always was!

Come on, come on, up you get!

No, no, no, you can't go all the way down like that!

At skiing you find your own gradient as well as your own level,

whether it's a nursery slope

or one of the fast, steep runs of packed snow

that challenge courage, strength and skill.

Here at Murren, in the Bernese Oberland,

birthplace of downhill ski racing and the slalom,

the British championships are in progress.

And here, competing in the giant slalom, is the Aga Kahn.

He's a British citizen

and a long-standing member of the ski club.

He must twist through those gates in lightning-fast turns,

if he's to stand a chance of a winning time.

A missed gate means the competitor is out.

Now comes Winston Churchill, grandson, of course, of Sir Winston.

And here comes Charles Palmer-Tomkinson in top gear, all-out,

and making the fastest time - two minutes 7.6 seconds.

With his good time in the slalom, it's enough to bring him victory.

So a new British champion is born

and though British skiers may not yet be among the world's best,

they're certainly getting a place on the Alpine map.

The fastest way to travel on land without a motor is to cycle.

Speeds of about 40mph are not uncommon.

a fair rate with nothing beneath you, but a bit of steel tubing

and two slim, air-filled compartments.

The great cycling event in this country

is the 1,500-mile tour of Britain.

85 competitors, including teams from seven countries

as well as British regional teams, started out.

After the mass start, competitors thin out and many of them drop out

or are eliminated for not finishing their stage in time.

23 and a quarter miles per hour was the winner's average over 12 days,

along a route that takes in Welsh mountains and Lake District peaks.

The game gives Britain one of its few world champions,

Beryl Burton of Leeds, who in 12 hours has covered 277 miles,

a greater distance than any other cyclist - man or woman.

Just turned 30, this dedicated athlete,

mother of a girl of 11, pedalled away on her own

to win the World Amateur Road Championship for Women,

at the Holland meeting.

Championships and records all come the same to Beryl Burton,

she's gained so many of them!

Scudding home in front of a spread-eagled field

is no novelty to Beryl Burton.

Stirling Moss, here checking his BRM,

is still considered by many as the fastest of all Grand Prix drivers.

The newest star racing for Britain is Australia's Jack Brabham,

with a brilliant list of recent successes

and the promise of more to come.

Brabham's rise to stardom

is as sensational as the little car he drives - the Cooper,

a relatively low-powered British car

with the behaviour of a thoroughbred.

In only its second full year of international racing,

the Cooper is suddenly leading the world in the trophies

it's snatched throughout Europe, the States, and Down Under.

And clocking Jack Brabham as he drives

is the man who helped to make her - John Cooper.

The first Cooper racing car came off the drawing board

just after the war. John designed it with his father

and drove it in small car races, 500cc events.

Soon, it was making a brilliant name for itself.

Here's Brabham, Cooper's top driver, coming in from a test run.

They talk the same language -

Brabham is a top mechanic, a quality quite rare among racing stars.

The Cooper recipe - put the engine in the rear,

concentrate on suspension, handling ability, rather than all-out power.

But where does Britain find her racing stars?

Many begin as amateurs driving in sports-cars rallies, hill climbs, club events,

and then going on to buy, hire,

share, or build their own racing car.

Another Cooper contribution to British car racing

is the school for would-be racing drivers,

which they've started at Brands Hatch in Kent.

There, instructors lead beginners round the track,

under the eyes of the judges in the stands.

With the instructor as pacemaker,

the first test is 12 laps of the twisting, hilly circuit at Brands Hatch.

Right from the start, testing of beginners is pretty searching - it has to be.

Those who still show promise as the pacing is speeded up

are singled out for more advanced training.

More severe tests, this time at the school's expense.

Only about one pupil in 75 gets right through the next solo stage of schooling

and sets foot on the first rung of the professional racing ladder.

Driving Cooper cars, with the firm's backing, at its first junior formula events.

But it's a long haul to this, the British Grand Prix, at Aintree.

And they're off.

Right from the start it's the Australian Brabham, number 12,

who streaks to the front.

And Betty Brabham, a true racing wife,

clocks his sizzling lap times from the pit counter,

as he streaks past the stands.

Even over two hours of all-out driving,

the place is so hot and the running so close

that a driver forced to a pit stop

can see his chances vanish in the seconds it takes to refuel.

And, oh, dear, here's Moss stopping - a wheel change.

The treads right off his tyres.

And now they're flashing Brabham, bad news about his tyres.

Brabham ignores his pit and fights to stay ahead on worn out tyres,

with Moss gaining on him every time round.

But, as Betty Brabham watches the last lap round,

her husband still ahead, he's held off Moss to win.

There's the flag, as he streaks across the finish.

And here's Moss, not the luckiest, seconds behind.

And first to reach the winner

is a young man, with a big dream of coming in first himself one day

and having the world fall round his neck, just like this.

And a kiss from his very best girl, just like this.

Stock car racing came to Britain, from America, seven years ago.

Is it a genuine sport or just an infantile craze?

Unlike ordinary motor racing,

it doesn't contribute to motorcar manufacturing,

perhaps it's simply an outlet for drivers who get too much of this?

But one thing is certain,

the thousand-odd stock car enthusiasts in Britain

should never run short of raw material.

They build their cars from a variety of parts,

all of which can be picked up pretty cheaply.

A man's sport? Not a bit of it!

Quite a few gals have had a go at stock car racing.

37-year-old Tanya Crouch, with her mechanic, has raced for six years.

For safety, doors are welded shut, by the way,

but Tanya's used to getting in this way.

There's plenty of space on their Sussex farm

to try out their new motor.

The cars stream into the pits at the track well before time,

for there's plenty of work to be done.

Tyres are stripped at the rate of two a race,

so wheels have to be changed.

Hairdresser's model, Mrs Betty Mason, from Chichester,

is her husband's mechanic.

As the work goes on,

the official board of control scrutineer checks all cars

and drivers' safety harnesses,

which must be fastened to the floor, not to the seat.

Bumpers of regulation size must not protrude beyond the tyres.

Warnings are issued - a car not up to regulations is barred.

At the Brafield Northamptonshire track, it's an afternoon meet,

and the girls turn up to cheer on their favourites.

Drivers get a minimum three pounds starting money,

ten pounds for a win.

There'll be as many as 40 cars at the meeting, 20 in a race.

They're all ready now and they're off!

And so is someone's wheel!

The first bend is murder - it's every man for himself.

Get out of the way!

Someone's having tyre trouble - stop?

Not on your nelly!

What's a tyre here or there?

This is a 20 lap contest, about eight miles -

if you keep going the right way, that is.

Look out, he's after you!

The field's been cleaned out now

and the red tops are setting the pace - move over!

The barrels take a pasting and, with wrecks everywhere,

things get a bit tricky.

Cornering - this is how to do it.

Whoops-a-daisy, no wonder those chassis have to be reinforced.

The red tops have lapped what's left of the field by now,

and soon it's the finish -

for those who survive this race of crashes, bangs and wallops!

Breakdown lorries sort out the pile-ups.

The track must be cleared for the next event.

To the majority of drivers,

stock car racing is a highly competitive sport,

to a few, it's a smashing craze!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd