I don’t believe in witchcraft, ghosts, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, or anything else that can’t be proven to exist via science and logic. However, I am interested in all of the above and pretty much anything else that can be considered paranormal or supernatural. This is mainly because I spent much of my childhood reading Arthur C. Clarke’s Mysterious World books. But it’s also because I grew up right next to a very strange place that would have given even the late old Arthur C. the willies.

The Witches’ Circle is a ring of oak trees around 60 feet in diameter, next to the ancient village of Winlaton, five miles west of Newcastle upon Tyne, in Gateshead in the North East of England. For centuries, the circle has been associated with stories involving the activities of witches from the surrounding area. I grew up in Winlaton with stories of the Witches’ Circle — of sorcery and hauntings and curses. We were warned to keep away. We were told it was an evil place. Of course, we ignored the warnings, and it became an annual tradition each Halloween, after dark, to go down to the Witches’ Circle. Almost 30 years later, I’m still fascinated by the place. …

“Boom! A muffled roar like that of a mighty thunderclap, a shake like that of an earthquake, and a flash that turned the black sky red!” — Kentish Independent, February 15, 1907

On the morning of Sunday, February 11, 1907, the district of Woolwich in south-east London was rocked by a huge explosion. The blast shattered windows, demolished walls, and blew off roofs. Shockwaves woke people from their sleep across a radius of 40 miles. A flash from the explosion could be seen as far away as Southend-on-Sea.

The explosion occurred at the Royal Arsenal, a thousand-acre site for the manufacture and testing of munitions for the British Armed Forces. To the north of the site was the silt-brown River Thames. At the south, separated by a ditch and a fence, was the Manor Ground, the home of Woolwich Arsenal Football Club. Originally a works team for the Royal Arsenal, by 1907, Woolwich Arsenal was a leading club in the top flight of the English Football League. The Manor Ground received the full force of the blast, threatening the future of the club now known as Arsenal FC. …

Ned Doig went to Blackburn in 1889 and came back with a bag full of gold. The Arbroath and Scotland goalkeeper had agreed to play for Blackburn Rovers against Notts County for the handsome sum of £25. Blackburn won the match 9–0, and Ned had “very little to do.” It was a nice afternoon’s work for an amateur player who usually earned his crust as an apprentice baker. Scottish Ned was unfamiliar with English banknotes and, wary of being ripped off, insisted on being paid in gold sovereigns.

Ned would soon become much more familiar with English banknotes of every denomination. He joined Sunderland in 1890, for £3 a week and a £75 signing-on fee, and became one of the most successful and highly-paid soccer players of the era. He was part of an exodus of “Scotch Professors” who left the amateur game in Scotland to play professionally in England. Ned won the league championship four times with Sunderland. He signed for Liverpool, for £150, and played until 1908, when he was 41. By then, English soccer had implemented a maximum wage cap, and moving to England was no longer such a lucrative career path. …

The early 1700s is the Golden Age of Piracy. British sailor Edward Robinson leaves England after being (falsely) accused of murder and sails to the Caribbean, where his ship is captured and he is forced into piracy. So begins one of history’s most extraordinary untold true stories. This is an excerpt from Sins Dyed In Blood: The Lost Pirate of Blackbeard’s Golden Age by Paul Brown.

It was just after sunset on an August evening in 1718, and something was approaching through the twilight. The sloop the Francis had come to anchor in Delaware Bay, on the north-eastern seaboard of America. The single-masted Francis and its small crew would wait out the ebb tide before completing their journey from Antigua to Boston. The sloop’s first mate, James Killing, peered over the murky water. “There’s a canoe-a-coming,” he said. “I wish they be friends.” The busy trading routes that brought goods and people to the colonies were patrolled by sea robbers, and the sloop was only lightly armed. …

This is an edited excerpt from The Ruhleben Football Association: How Steve Bloomer’s Footballers Survived a First World War Prison Camp by Paul Brown.

“Myself and many others would not have survived without football” — Steve Bloomer

In 1914, at the outbreak of the First World War, several of Britain’s most famous soccer players were imprisoned in a brutal internment camp at Ruhleben, near Berlin. …

FIFA president Jules Rimet’s dream of organizing an international football world championship — a standalone competition for men’s national association soccer teams — was realized when Uruguay hosted and won the inaugural World Cup tournament in 1930. But international football was already 60 years old by 1930, and there had been several previous competitions, won by several previous champions. Working backwards from 1930, these are football’s world champions Before The World Cup (BTWC):

1924 & 1928: Uruguay

One night in Turin, a helicopter buzzed over an illuminated bowl that was filled with sound and life. This was the Stadio delle Alpi, the Stadium of the Alps. Europe’s highest mountain range could be seen to the west, looming out of the evening dusk. The brand new stadium had been purpose-built for the 1990 World Cup finals — Italia 90. Like some futuristic update of an ancient Roman amphitheater, its sleek oval design seemed more reminiscent of a downed flying saucer than a traditional soccer ground. In the streets around the stadium, streams of football fans and convoys of supporters’ coaches filed closer as kick-off approached. …

In the months leading up to the 1966 World Cup, English soccer was in the doldrums. Attendances were falling as the game’s popularity dwindled. During the opening weeks of the 1965–66 season, Football League officials reported the “absence” of 300,000 fans. “Crowds everywhere are well down,” said the Daily Mirror, “and if the slide continues figures could be half a million down on last season at the end of the first month.” Only eight English clubs had average attendances of more than 30,000 in 1965–66, and only reigning champions Liverpool saw an increase in crowd numbers. …