He sprinted towards the older of the two wooden grandstands — the long, low one that held 500 when full — and slid on his knees, back arched and arms spread wide. He might even have blown kisses to the crowd.
A hundred or so sky blue fans were clumped together in the stand for maximum volume. They chuckled for an instant, then roared encouragement as they recognised a mixture of unbridled joy and passionate commitment . . . they were in the presence of a born showman.
Make no mistake, though. Jim’s play had a hard edge that belied the flamboyance of his goal celebrations.
His professional experience included spells at Sheffield United and York City.
A schoolboy champion sprinter, Jim played age-group representative football for Sheffield and Yorkshire, but in England the competition at senior level has always been ferocious.
By the age of 25, Jim was ready for fresh challenges, and crossed the world to Gisborne.
At 5ft 10in, Jim was not big for a striker, but he had the knack of “hanging” in the air.
As a young centreback, I was fascinated by the technique and tried in vain to emulate it.
Basically, Jim jumped early for the ball. When he was at the peak of his leap, he would twist his upper body to meet the ball and head it in the desired direction.
All this upper-body movement resulted in a flailing of arms that created a roadblock for any defender contesting the high ball.
And the defender’s momentum as he jumped, slightly later, for the ball served to keep Jim in the air a fraction of a second longer.
Allied with his aerial technique, Jim had a get-stuck-in approach that made him a nightmare to play against.
In training he was a perfect gentleman, which was just as well because if he’d played in five-a-sides the way he did at weekends we’d never have got a full team on the field.
In 1978, Jim was one of the stars of a Gisborne side still battling to recover from National League relegation in 1976.
City had lost some key players from the year before but still had stalwarts like Hill, Harry Kennedy and Martin Ryan.
In 1979, Kevin Fallon returned and started building the side that would become perennial challengers for honours.
That year, Jim was a member of a strike force known as “the three Ds” — Jim Doherty, Richard Dawson and Max Davis — and City won promotion with a 1-1 draw against Miramar Rangers in the last game of the season, at Childers Road Reserve.
In 1980, Jim formed a lethal duo with Colin Walker, and City finished second in their first year back in the National League.
Jim was a regular in the City side until the end of 1983, and a first-team squad member in the league-winning side of 1984.
His approach was whole-hearted, and although Kevin Fallon’s stamina sessions did not suit Jim’s sprinter’s physique, he always gave his utmost.
I remember one session, in particular. I think it was in ’79.
Fallon (we called him Kevin or Fallon according to the severity of the last training session) had been to the doctor’s that day to get fluid drained off his knee, or a cortisone shot, or something.
It seemed to have made him grumpy, and he kept Jim and me back for extra work. We were already knackered, but Fallon had us chasing ball after ball. Jim would have to meet it and lay it off or take me on.
As time wore on, it went through my head that the only way we could stop this torture was for me to kick Jim, or for him to kick me. As the challenges became more ragged, I sensed — or wanted to believe — that Jim was thinking the same way.
We continued with this football version of Russian roulette until Fallon decided we’d had enough, and we trudged off, thankful for small mercies.
Jim moved to Auckland and joined Papatoetoe for the 1985 season. Their coach, former England Under-23 international Vic Mobley, had him up front for their game in Gisborne. It was my job to mark Jim, so I witnessed at close quarters his last goal at Childers Road Reserve.
It was even better than his first. Again it was at the Childers Road end and the ball came in from the right, but this time it was behind him. With his back to goal, Jim leaped and hooked the ball back, right-footed, over his shoulder. It put them 1-0 up.
Of the hundreds of goals strikers scored against me, this one was in the top five, and I was powerless to stop it.
I can’t remember how Jim celebrated that goal, except that it was intense.
We won the match 4-1. With the points in the bag, I couldn’t help feeling glad that Jim had signed off in Gisborne with a flourish that matched his introduction.
Welcome back, Jim.
