Football, as they say, was in my blood. From a very early age I felt totally at home with a ball at my feet. In fact very often there was not enough money for a ball so often a stone would suffice, much to my mother's disgust of course, because kicking a stone around all day long did no good whatsoever for the usually short life span of a young boy's shoes. I grew up, at least for the first four years of my life in the Aston area of Birmingham, famous of course for the smells of Ansells beer and Hp sauce as well as my beloved Aston Villa Football club. From the age of four onwards, I moved with Mum & Dad to a Council House in the Vauxhall area of the City, within a stone's throw of St Andrews, the home ground of Birmingham City Football club. However, Dad was a Villa fan and so it was at the age of 8 that Dad started taking me to the matches and my love affair began. I quickly grew to love Saturdays and the spine-tingling excitement of going to the games with my Dad. It wasn't long before I had the claret and blue scarf, the woollen bobble hat and the rattle; commonplace in the 1950s but soon to become an endangered species at football grounds the world over. I saw lots of great games at Villa Park with my Dad and I also tucked into a host of tasty pork pies and sampled hot Bovril on many a cold winter's afternoon, with a dash of salt and pepper of course to give it the necessary kick. I soon began to idolise my footballing heroes like Irish international Peter McParland, England striker Gerry Hitchens and that most brilliant header of a football Tony Hateley. Then of course there was the magical roar that went up when Aston Villa scored as 40,000 people in unison raised their hands to the sky and shouted "It's a goal!" followed by rapturous applause and cheering. Magic simply magic was how I would describe the atmosphere, particularly when the Villa-Villa-Villa chant went up all around the ground.

I took an interest in other sports too, especially cricket and tennis, but it was football that had won my heart. As well as watching the professionals play I loved to play myself and in my dreams I was always scoring the winning goal at the FA Cup Final - what football mad youngster didn't? Given my passion for the game therefore, how ironic it is that it should play a part in dealing me such a cruel blow.

Just two months or so after watching England beat West Germany to win the World Cup I was playing for my local team in a Sunday League game at Sennely's Park in Birmingham, when the heavens opened and the rain lashed down. I began to wipe my eyes to get the raindrops out so that I could see the ball clearly. However, nothing I did helped and everything was blurred, because of the rain I thought. A little later I had a slight collision with a goal post and again my vision was blurred. Shortly after that things seemed to improve, but not for long. I was checking a balance sheet at work a few days later but I could not read the figures as they seemed blurred to me. Someone else confirmed that the figures were as clear as a bell and I knew then that something was seriously wrong.

Within six months I was totally blind, despite initially being told that I had concussion and my sight would eventually return. On the day that I was told I would never see again I heard on the news that Sir Donald Campbell had been killed when Bluebird crashed on Lake Coniston while he was attempting the water speed world record. I was so upset about Donald Campbell that it took my mind off my situation and in a strange kind of way it acted as excellent therapy for me.

It transpired I would have gone blind anyway because my brother Paul went blind at the age of 17 and my sister Joan went blind at the age of 23. A very rare hereditary disease of the optic nerve was diagnosed by the name of Lebers Optic Atrophy. The disease we later found out could only be passed on by female members of the family.

I was 19 years of age when I was registered blind and I had to go away from home on a rehabilitation course. This was based in the South West of England in the lovely seaside town of Torquay. There I learned to read braille, get around using a white stick and the rudiments of using a typewriter. At the end of the course I was then sent to a commercial college for the blind in London where I was to train as an audio typist. A bit of a blow this because I really wanted to do computer programming, but when I sat the exam I did not complete even a quarter of the questions. What I did do, however, I got them all right. It was as quick as I could read the braille that enabled me to get all four mathematical puzzles that I tried all correct; nowhere near enough to pass the test of course. I thought typing was a woman's job as the only typists I knew were women.

I did however enjoy my time in London and I passed my audio typing exams with flying colours. I owed a lot to my typing teacher Mrs Craig because she not only trained me to a very high standard as an audio typist, but she also paved the way for me to make the most important decision of my life. It was Mrs Craig who sat down with me in the staff room of the college one night and explained that to be a real Christian was not so much about being Christened as a baby, going to church or being a good person, but it was about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour. Of course initially I had not got a clue what she was talking about. However after asking lots of questions, reading a few books and attending Westminster Chapel one Sunday night, I did make the decision to surrender my life to Jesus Christ and invite him to come into my heart to forgive me for my sins and to become my Lord and Saviour.

The years have literally flown by since I took that step but in all of that time, nearly 40 years in all, Jesus has never let me go. I am married to Sylvia, we have four kids and nine grandchildren and have had a great many amazing experiences in our walk of faith.

I continue to have many passions including football (still being an Aston Villa fan), cricket, music, eating out, going to the cinema or theatre etc, but the greatest thrill of all is to be able to share the wonderful news with people that Jesus is alive and he loves them passionately. Now when I say "It's a goal" what I mean is that it is my goal to communicate God's love to people of all ages and all backgrounds by whatever means he makes available to me.

Why not make it your goal to get to know Jesus today and in so doing join the winning team.