The date was July 1979 and a select band of the finest athletes Kingston has ever assembled were preparing for their greatest challenge.

Sixteen men and women, brave of heart and true of spirit, were about to pit their wits and test their sinews against Europe's elite.

For months they had put their finely-tuned bodies through the fiercest of training regimes.

But the scale of the challenge they faced was unimaginable.

Large-headed costumes, foam, inflatable obstacles, hordes of marauding Belgians and cackling presenter Stuart Hall all lay in store for the team.

Kingston's team had amazingly beaten a host of other London teams to win through to the grand European final of TV game show It's a Knockout.

The team members set off for the competition in Brussels from their training base at Tolworth Recreation Centre with the cheers of friends, well wishers and local dignitaries ringing in their ears.

They were set to compete against seven other European teams and the Yugoslavians were said to be the most formidable. The Balkan team had the support of the communist state apparatus and had been training solidly for three months.

The Surrey Comet of the time sent a team of crack reporters to cover the event and they discovered it was not quite the festival of friendliness they had expected.

They wrote: "The temperamental Italian judges screeched their garbled instructions to the competitors, the pipe-sucking Belgian photographers jostled each other for the best position and the Portuguese judges burst into tears when they realised their team had finished last."

Despite the support of 100 fans sporting Bentalls caps, the Portuguese were, in fact, the only team who finished below Kingston and the Yugoslavs, some of whom were suspected of being androids, romped to victory.

Following an impressive start which propelled Kingston's team to third position, a tricky game involving foam rubber chips effectively saw the end of its challenge.

At the end of the contest Kingston's team, led by captain Eugene Begaert, ran across to their supporters in the stadium.

Mr Begaert, a fireman, was clutching the team mascot, a 2ft tall model of Manneken Pis the familiar urinating boy of Brussels.

The Comet wrote: "Dashing across to some of the supporters, Mr Begaert pressed a button on the back of the little figure and the wee boy of Brussels shot out a generous stream of wee' into the crowd."

All agreed the competition had been an enjoyable experience but with the benefit of time we may want to re-evaluate the enormity of the team's achievements.

In 1,000 years' time, might not the names of the Kingston It's a Knockout team stand alongside Hercules, Achilles and Samson as the heroes of legend?

sbrody@london.newsquest.co.uk