ANYONE who has attended a “sportsman’s evening” featuring footballers from the 1970s will be familiar with the script: laddish banter, tales of drink, women and gambling, blue jokes and so on and so forth. Sometimes, it’s not worth meeting your heroes, men you might have only seen on Match of the Day or in the tabloid press. After a while, stories of how “I once pissed in the FA Cup”, or “at half-time I had a leggy blond” become tiresome and certainly out of sync with today’s narrative. I’ve been to a few of these events and nearly always come away feeling “ok, that was fun…but did it really tell me anything about how the game was played in those days?”. Invariably, there’s no…