I spent half my childhood in that 'rec' and my primary school was on that road.
I remember it very fondly. Complete shïthole now, of course.
http://www.standard.co.uk/news/crime...-a3511076.html
I remember it as a place of endless hot summers, snowball fights in winter, riding bikes and playing without a care in the world. That's childhood, I guess.
Actually, there were always bits that were rougher than others. Around there used to be pretty respectable (although some kid did get stabbed in the park around the time of the Brixton riots). Then white flight happened, of course.
Who mugged you?
I can't remember the name of the road, but it contained several families of Oirishers as well as my Oirish brood. Perhaps this is why my recollection is tinged with repulsion.
I suppose I was about 10 and walking along with my cousin when we were set upon by a group of big boys who took our few pennies and gave us a mild slap just for the look of the thing. I never told anyone out of a sense of shame.
I'm like a rape victim in many respects.
'Seems that I was busy doing something close to nothing
But different than the day before'
'Met a dwarf that was no good, dressed like Little Red Riding Hood'
'Now you're unemployed, all non-void
Walkin' round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd'
Yeah. Funny thing about Shrublands is that it's not really the typical inner-Croydon shíthole the papers are painting it as. It's an ill-conceived rough housing estate that sits rather incongruously in some otherwise quite nice areas like West Wickham (which is Bromley, of course, but never mind) and Shirley.