Richard Cox

🧡

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@DublinAirport Social media at it's finest. 🤣

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@Cantona_Collars Proper goal celebrations. No knee slides in those days.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@end_ofa_century @Cantona_Collars I have never seen a truer striker of the ball than Bobby Charlton. The ball just flew like an arrow with his shots.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@AtTheRaces @V_Binnie_Ryle How thoughtless.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@BlackpoolFC Alan Suddick v Verona - Anglo Italian Cup, May 1971. At South Paddock end he cushioned a cross with his head, ran round the defender took the airborne ball, flicking it over the head of another defender, before running round him and volleying it into the net. A true maestro.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@FOBRacing Pity that you didn't just re-tweet the original post with it's similar comment & 230,000 + likes.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@itvracing That was just - awful. Embarrassing 😳.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@AndyMitten Did you sign it ?

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@LythamLifeStyle Beautiful Locorotondo 🇮🇹

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@ArmfieldDuncan It must have been absolutely amazing for him. What an experience. From his auto bio I remember him saying re his National Service how he'd get a train from Halton Camp to Preston, walk down Fishergate Hill, the team bus picking him up on Penwortham bridge before going to Man Utd.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@dougboneparth @DoctorPete There's some rubbish on X these days - but this made be laugh. 😂👏👏👏

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@davemorrissey64 You'll be telling us how to make a Swiss roll next. 😁

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

'No one told me' is just pathetic. Any one with the remotest interest in politics knew of Mandelson's history. In his clamour to crawl closer to Trump, it was Starmer who chose to ignore Mandy's past. Now that has backfired, he should at least do one honourable thing this week.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@PaulFosterMP As someone who voted for Labour in the last election, I must say that K Starmers performance this week has been abysmal. In his pathetic attempts to save himself he has sacrificed Sir Olly Robbins, who came across as a dedicated and conscientious leader. To say 1/2

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@RacingPost @leemottershead This article would have been of interest at one time - but not any more.

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@ItsRossBrierley
Just seen this interesting stat against Katate Dori. 🤔

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@GylesB1 Make sure that you have a visit to Watkins 😋.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

*One month before her 95th birthday, Patricia Routledge wrote something that still gently echoes:*

**“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.”**

My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.

At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.

At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.

At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.

At 80, I took up watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.

Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.

**I’m writing this to tell you something simple:**

**Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.**

Let these years ahead be your *treasure years*.

You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.

You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.

*With love and gentleness,*

— Patricia Routledge

[Richard Cox @richardcox501]

@RichardHoiles I do remember hearing their results as a child, as it was such an unusual name. Bit shocked to find out that they folded on 1967 though. 😳