2022
After moving from the Golf Club, our family moved to the British Legion Club in Stretford - i very much wondered why, for i found such a move to be a very unwelcoming one, for it heralded my departure from playing golf, which i very much enjoyed - it had become very much a pre-occupation for me...
However, i have only just realised that it was seemingly that my mother found some of the ladies to be a bit snobby, so wanted to move to somewhere where the people were more to her liking - thanks Dad - after all this time lolz...
After i had played the three games of chess with the apparent north west junior chess champion, i found myself to be seemingly duti-bound to play a member of said British Legion's chess club team - i think someone had told my mum, and that she had then 'crowed' about it to someone/people within said British Legion Club...
I saw the possible writing on the wall - if i won i would then be invited to play for them - so i played my opening moves badly, leaving myself open to attack...
As far as i was concerned the pub game was my parents choice of employment - and i had, by that time, started developing my own social life, through/with the help of people of around my own age - so didn't particularly relish such an opportunity to start hanging out with the 'old fogies', as i, a teenager still, saw them to be...
Our 'watering holes' were The Horse & Jockey in Chorlton-cum-hardy, and the cellar room in The Cavalcade in Didsbury - and a little later perhaps, The Students Union and The Art College, coming into Manchester City Centre (with Marga and others) - with The Village Disco and The Hard Rock (both of which were held at the same venue in Stretford) following at sometime later still, if my memory serves me correctly...
So yeah, i hardly ever went into The British Legion Club...
Although i do remember one occasion, shortly after closing time one lunch-time, finding myself approaching the open glass doors/French windows, from our back garden - whereby i saw my dad stood on the snooker table, with cue in hand, being somewhat surrounded by a group of males, with cues in hand also - with said group of males then seemingly choosing do an 'exit stage left'...
...I think i may had had Gary, the ex police dog who had been shot and therefore rendered unfit for further duties, with me at the time - so, if so, undoubtedly perhaps, this may possibly have further prompted such an 'exit stage left'...
Our next move was to The Sharston Hotel, in Sharston, on the edge of the somewhat extensive Wythenshawe council housing estate...
Such a 'Hotel' had been closed down around six months earlier, due to someone having been thrown off a middle floor Bird's Nest Disco balcony and killing him...
My very physically capable/army-trained Dad's remit was to get rid of the 'riff-raff' and turn the downstairs into a friendly family pub - with The Bird's Nest Disco remaining closed for ever more - twas simply the police/authority's orders in order that such a pub part could be opened once more, as i understood it...
Twas a bit of a 'rough house' initially...
I remember going into a back room one lunch-time, having been told there was a pool table there, putting my two pence marker, along with others, on one of the side edges, and waiting my turn whilst drinking a pint of mild - then when i had adjudged my turn to have come to play, i found myself getting into a verbal exchange, from where i was stood, next to the bar, with a rather uncompromising guy, who was stood next to said pool table with a cue in his hand - i read the situation immediately, 'if you insist then you are going to get the pool cue' silently and rather obviously being conveyed to me...
... Causing me to think 'sod it, a game of pool is not worth that sort of bother' - resulting in me returning back upstairs shortly afterwards - much to my then absent dad's displeasure of me seemingly having 'chickened out', upon later hearing about it...
...Whereas, for me, it was the rather obvious and sensible thing to have done - especially so, seeing as i was the stranger/new-comer to such a room - and as i had a somewhat responsible, suit-wearing, job in one of the offices within a factory, it wouldn't have really been fitting for me to have turned up to work, possibly being covered in bruises or worse...
God it was a rough place - and the Vibes were very unwelcoming - so i didn't choose to make like a local that often...
Although there was another occasion where i found myself to be playing pool whilst dad was chatting to two big burly black-suited guys from another local pub with a boxing room atop of it - an occasion whereby my dad showed them his surprisingly good and fast boxing skills - i think that they had come in to see if he required any help in clearing out such 'riff-raff'...
...A seeming offer that he chose to decline apparently...
And then there was another occasion, when i had gone into the bar to see a 'Giant Haystacks' guy (i actually thought it was him at the time) called 'Mick The Beast', reach his arm across the bar and lift my dad up rather effortlessly by the scuff of his neck, before putting him back on the floor again - something that caused my dad to then walk from behind the bar into the vault proper, put his fists up and say 'come on then' - an offer that caused said 'Mick The Beast' to simply say, 'i don't want to fight you Bert'...
...A gesture that somewhat amazed me at the time - as my reaction to dad's seemingly reckless pluckiness was a silent, 'God dad, what are you doing now' - he seemingly had no fear...
He was sent anonymous wreaths - and his obituary was printed, in the Manchester Evening News, i think - yep, it was most definitely a bit of a 'rough house' alright...
It was an ongoing situation that eventually wore dad down for a short time - as a bunch of them simply refused to leave said vault one lunch-time - and my dad simply couldn't impose his authority, as there were too many of them...
...Until he later, after a short illness, decided to go into a sports shop and buy himself a baseball bat of course - and then return and crash said baseball bat onto the top of the long trestle-type table at which they were all sat, and to say rather uncompromisingly to them all, 'right, who wants it first' - causing them all to rather duly oblige his wishes for them to leave and to never return...
I think that was the rather defining moment that prompted the gradual improvement within the clientele of such a pub...
...With another defining moment coming later...
It was a moment in time when i had just come down the stairs and entered the bar, looking to the left, to find my dad behind the small adjoining bar within the 'Cave Room' - a drugs den basically...
A time when my dad was seemingly having a difference of opinion with the local drugs dealer - a hard looking, possibly likewise ex army bloke...
And then seeing my dad simply putting his left hand on top of the bar, raising both his legs laterally, moving himself to his left, and landing toe-to-toe in front of said drugs dealer, and saying, 'what are you going to do about it now then???' - (dad had been a 'PTI' (physical training instructor) inth army, and had enjoyed gymnastics, amongst other things)...
Rather surprisingly, said drugs dealer stood his ground for a while, seemingly reading the intent in dad's affixed and uncompromising eyes - before choosing, possibly rather sensibly, to 'turn tail' and walk out silently, never to return...
I actually thought that was the end of it - until my dad turned round to face everyone in the room (it was pretty full) and say rather commandingly, 'right, everybody out!!!' - causing me to think, 'God no, what's he getting himself into now (as well as possibly me also of course, in his possible defence) ...
But, rather amazingly, they all stood up and filed past him silently, with their heads bowed down - with not one of them either choosing to say anything, or give him a look - so yeah, i guess such a drug dealer must have been regarded as a particularly hard man...
After that my dad simply closed the room down, talked to the area manager, and got it totally transformed into a very welcoming, and much larger and higher room indeed - it looked really nice and inviting when it was finished - totally different from the mortar-covered extensive chicken wire that had been used to define such a dark and much smaller Cave Room...
So yeah, all credit to dad - he fulfilled his remit and turned such a pub into a family friendly one - but as you can possibly see, it was hardly the easiest of remits to fulfil...
Next, we moved on to The Cornishman pub in the heart of Wythenshawe - the Vibes were much better there - although it still had its moments...
It was a pub i regularly frequented, during the Friday evening, Saturday, and Sunday weekend periods, after each of my work-a-day weeks has finished - well, after a while anyway - when the pool tables came in...
There was a rear 'entertainments room' - with a raised stage at the far end - twas a rather large room...
For a short period of time my dad arranged for strippers to perform there - on Saturday lunch-times i think - in an attempt to attract further business i think...
I remember going down and watching once - and, amongst other performers, seeing a rather attractive lady with a good body performing - she seemed very nervous, giving me the impression that she was possibly only doing it to get herself out of money problems...
I didn't enjoy watching her, and felt sorry for her - as she was obviously not suited to such work - and seemed glad when her stint was over...
And then she was followed by an older, but much more confident woman, who was over-weight and had a somewhat saggy body - the crowd in general very much seemed to appreciate her efforts - but i did not...
I never chose to participate within the audience again - i simply didn't enjoy such shows - and found the Vibes to be somewhat oglingly distasteful...
Shortly afterwards nine pool tables were put into such an 'entertainments room' - two rows of four - and a slightly larger one placed sideways, close to the bar...
One that my best mate Ralph and i used to play on, and command, over the weekends...
Games were played on a 'winner stays on' basis - and either Ralph or i were seemingly always on the table - with us sometimes playing off against each other, whenever one of us got beat...
It was a game that i found to be very easy, as i had played quite a lot of snooker, during closing times, whilst we were at the Golf Club, and had become pretty good at - once playing a four handicapper during a time when the golf club was closed due to flooding - a time when said four handicapper said, to my dad whilst i was on the table, 'its like shelling peas for him isn't it', or words to such effect...
I remember a stranger walking in as if he owned the place one night, with a white silky-type scarf draped over both his shoulders - he came to play on the top table - and i simply took exception to him...
Anyway, whilst he was playing, i noticed his scarf draped over a chair, so picked it up and hid it, before going over to one of the slot machines and playing it...
He came over to me and asked where his scarf was - and i simply told him that i didn't know what he was talking about - causing him to walk away...
Later, he came up to me again, and went toe-to-toe with me - with me, again, telling him the same, although he said that someone had told him that they saw me take it - something that i resolutely denied, before he walked away again...
I think someone told him where it was in the end - he never came back again - it was completely out of character for me really, but like i said, i simply took exception to him, and was possibly in one of my not so congenial moods perhaps...
I remember on another occasion, on a Sunday lunch-time, when i was still hung-over from the night before (i think we must have been suppin' some of my home-brew during 'after hours' the night before) - i found myself to be 2 - 0 down, in the final of a pool competition - when my dad said to me, 'you do know that if you lose the next game you've lost the match don't you' - 'hmmm, i never thought of that', thought i...
...Causing me to apply myself and take it seriously - which in turn resulted in me winning the next three games convincingly - which then caused my opponent to give me a look as if saying, 'you've just been taking the piss out of me haven't you'...
...Which i hadn't been, obviously - for if my dad hadn't said anything to me i would have probably lost 3 - 0 - and not been awarded the prize of a rather nice split cue...
On another occasion i was drafted in to play for the mid-week pool team - an weekly event that i chose not to compete in or be part of - as i only chose to socialise, and drink, during the weekends generally...
Anyway, i think it was two all when my turn to play came - it was a point in time when i realised that the rather intent looks i was getting from the opposing team was telling me, without any doubt, that if i won it was all going to kick off - i simply played for fun and enjoyment, not unpleasantness, so i chose to duly oblige them by losing, and elected never to play for them again, much to my dad's seeming silent displeasure...
As far as i'm concerned, if someone wants to win that badly, then i'm simply not interested - i've never been a violent person per se - and would never wish to be so...
And talking of violence...
I remember playing pool one night when a bit of a commotion arose, and the whole room emptied...
I learnt later that apparently four guys had come/sneaked in, armed with pinking shears, intent on robbing the games machines - when one of our barmaids, 'hot-pot Betty' (she was the spitting image of the Betty who used to work behind The Rover's on Coronation Street, and was very well liked) was doing her rounds, collecting the empty pots left on the tables - she noticed what they were up to, and was told to keep her mouth shut...
However, being 'hot-pot Betty' she took exception to such cheek, and alerted some of the locals...
I followed everyone out and noticed one of our lads on the ground with another bloke setting about him - his best mate Billy was stood near by watching, pool cue in hand...
Anyway, when Billy realised that his best mate wasn't going to recover from the situation that he found himself in Billy wapped the other guy on the head with the thick end of his pool cue...
Amazingly it had absolutely no effect on the bloke at all - so, after a pause, Billy hit him on the head a couple of more more times, and with more effort - yep, that definitely did the trick all right...
I heard the faint crack of seemingly fractured bone, causing said bloke to desist from further attacking Billy's best mate...
...Causing me to get Billy back inside and into the kitchen - whereby i told my brother to wash the blood of said cue and to go hide it upstairs - before saying to a now shocked and ashen-faced Billy, 'you could have killed him Billy' - Billy, who's dad was a barman/cellar assistant, was a nice guy, and he was simply trying to prevent his best mate from receiving a severe beating, so i had considered such actions by myself to have been justified/warranted at the time...
Anyway, whether the other guy was taken to hospital or was in need of hospital treatment, i have no idea...
One of said guys was caught and brought into the pool room - by my dad i think...
Anyway it was past closing time by then, and my dad, who was about to wash the ashtrays, had sat him down and instructed me to keep a close eye on him, so that he didn't try and do a runner (when my dad told me to do something i generally obeyed him - especially so when i realised it was justified) ...
...Resulting in me being perched on the side of one of the pool tables directly in front of him...
Inbetween washing ash trays, my furious dad, came over and waved one of his fists in front of said guy's face, telling him, 'if you don't behave you'll be getting this matey'...
This, of course, made said guy even more nervous - causing him to look around for an escape exit, before looking at my dad's salivating guard dog (me) intently watching over him...
I had worked out that i could jump on him before he had the chance to do so - for there was a row of stacked chairs, jutting out, immediately to the left of where he was sat - so he didn't bother trying...
In the event the police came for him i think...
On another occasion i had come down from upstairs into the main room, just near to closing time at lunch-time, whereby i noticed my dad with one of his hands around another guy's neck - with the other guy's body pinned to the back of one of the open doors - there were a few people stood nearby watching...
Anyway, i walked more closely up, silently watching also - only to observe said guy's face gradually changing colour until it seemed to reach a deep purple colour - at which time i thought, rather concernedly, 'God he's going to kill him'...
...Only to see my dad releasing his grip on him, and watch him slide down said back of the door, unconscious, onto the ground - upon which, my dad simply grabbed him by both feet and dragged him outside into the car park, and simply left him to regain consciousness and toddle off home...
I remember afterwards saying to my dad, 'i thought you were going to kill him dad' - upon which dad simply replied, 'i knew exactly what i was doing son, and knew exactly when to let go of him'...
On another occasion, after i had returned home from work, i was told that my dad had fronted up a machete-wielding 'druggy' (as my dad used to refer to such people as) at lunchtime that day...
The guy had apparently come in and told my dad that he was going to chop his 'bleedin''ead off' - causing my dad to rather promptly come from behind the bar and march right up to him, telling him, 'give it your best shot Tommy, but just remember this, if you miss then i'll be chopping your bleedin' head off' - apparently giving a bit of a shell-shocked Tommy considerable food for thought...
Anyway, apparently Tommy started shaking shortly after that - and then became close to tears, before running off - apparently he went straight to another pub, no doubt in an attempt to save face, and robbed the landlord of his takings, out of the till...
After hearing about it, i approached my dad, and asked him why he had done such a thing - to which he replied, 'do you not know anything son - as soon as i got close to him it was game over - it was a big weapon and he had to swing it back - so i'd have simply put his lights out before he could have had the chance to use it'...
Hmmm, okay then, thought i...
Tommy had always been a thorn in my dad's side - he had a brother that my dad got on well with, so he sort of generally went easy on him - but, upon this occasion he had simply over-stepped the mark...
He ended up serving time for such a robbery i think...
My dad actually saw him years later - he had changed his ways completely, and had a steady job, a wife, and child - he actually shook my dad's hand and thanked him...
On yet another occasion, i had come down stairs and looked left into the vault room, and noticed something untoward going on - my dad was stood in the room near the bar, with two opened topped pepper pots concealed in one of his hands, with another really big guy waiting some distance away, and his equally big mate trying to scare a rather concerned Billy's dad, who was stood behind the bar, into leaving - fair do's to him really, as he was really reluctant to do so before i turned up on the scene, causing him to leave us to it ('it's a family affair-air, it's a family affair-air') ...
Anyway, before Billy took his leave i noticed that while 'bad (and intimidating) Jimmy' was harassing/cajoling Billy's dad, his right eye seemed to be looking at me whilst he was doing so, which sort of confused me really, as i didn't know whether he was then addressing me or Billy's dad - he had a severe glide it his right eye, i was later to realise...
So anyway, after Billy had took his leave, 'bad Jimmy' turned his attentions towards me, and slowly started to move along the bar, towards the part that turned upwards upon its hinges - i remained silent and composed as he did so - simply 'Knowing' that when he had reached his destination, he wouldn't be able to pull his fist back too far, and at such a point a punch was going to be thrown towards the left side of his face, and that he was simply going to drop down like a sack of spuds, game over...
In the event, and rather inexplicably, when the moment came a certain realisation entered his mind, causing him to turn-tail and head quickly towards the door, saying to his somewhat uncomprehending mate, 'right we're off', as he was doing so - with me and my dad simply parting company, with nothing being said between us at all...
So am i some sort of hard man??? - no i'm not - i was simply being unknowingly overshadowed by my protective 'Secret Ninja' at the time...
It was only years later that i realised what had possibly been taking place, 'silently' at that time...
It was a Scenario that i Envisaged, whereby my Life-Guide was possibly Telling 'bad Jimmy's' Life Guide to get get His charge to leave before He left my protective Team with no option but to Intervene...
They were a particularly bad pair, who no doubt intended to do my dad serious harm/damage - they had apparently robbed jewellers shops in the centre of Manchester, as rumour had it - and could have been possibly been trying to bend my dad's arm for 'protection' money perhaps...
I had noticed them in the pub on a few previous occasions, with their 'moll', whilst in the pool room - they were nasty people - i was told that one of them had some sort of capsule injected into his leg in order to, unsuccessfully seemingly, deter him from drinking...
Anyway, they never came back again - i think my dad may possibly have been drinking at the time, and so was not his usual 'no nonsense self' - i noticed that he got himself a rowing machine, at some point in time, and could sometimes hear him furiously using it inth his and mum's bedroom...
So did i have any girls??? - yeah, i had a few - as Frank Sinatra may possibly have said...
Two locals - one of who's rather firm and nicely shaped boobs somewhat fascinated me - and a girl who i, rather strangely, became engaged to for a short while, until someone spotted her in another pub with someone else...
...And a barmaid who i snuck up into my bedroom one night at closing time, whilst my mum and dad and a few others went to a curry house, after said pub closing time - it was simply a 'one-nighter' - as i didn't really fancy her that much...
And then there was another barmaid who i went out with for a while - she was quite nice really - but my mum was seemingly wishing for her to be more than just a girlfriend...
And then there was 'me Julie' of course - the daughter of a much older barmaid who my dad was, unknowingly, having an affair with...
Julie used to come in sometimes and stand at one of the bars, still wearing her coat - i found her to be really nice and attractive, and she had a really nice personality - we got on well together...
However it all ended shortly after our family had suddenly left said pub and split up - with my dad living with Julie's mum, whilst managing A Rugby Social Club somewhere way-out in Bardsley, if my memory serves me correctly...
I simply returned home one day from work and was told that we were leaving - without being given an explanation as to why - only that my dad had been sacked...
In my confusion, i decided to phone up the area manager from work one day, to ask him what had happened - resulting in me meeting him in a certain pub one early afternoon - after i had taken time off work for such an occasion to take place...
He took me into an office and told me that dad had been fiddling the stocks - selling spirits that he had bought himself, in order to make some extra money - it was something that a certain number of other pub managers used to do apparently...
I remember walking out, and holding back tears of shame - although i never told any other family member about having had such a meeting - i simply kept it to myself, if my memory serves me correctly...
I then found myself 'shacking up' at another house - for about a week or so i think - before Ralph invited me to share his flat with him...
His brother had recently left with his French girlfriend to go and live in the Lake District - resulting in Ralph finding it difficult to pay the rent on his own - well-timed fate once again...
I remember my mother saying something about my dad, in front of others, and saying to me, 'isn't that right our Terry' - to which i rather tersely replied, 'no it isn't' - it proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back really, for i didn't see her for thirteen years after that...
During our time at such a pub, there are two other incidents, involving my brother, that i feel i should mention...
The first one happened when i came back upstairs one day, to see my brother looking through an open window, with a 'pellet pistol' in his hand - there were two seagulls perched on the roof, and my brother was about to shoot one of them - for some reason, i took said pistol off him, and shot one of them myself...
I had to shoot it twice actually, in order to kill it - and instantly felt bad about doing such a heartless thing - leaving its partner alone, and having to fend for itself...
I now see it as saving said brother from incurring some possible karma in said respect actually...
The second occasion was one whereby said brother saw a UFO out of his bedroom window one sunny day - he took a photograph of it (which he later sent to Jodrell Bank, but received no reply to), before it took off vertically at great speed and simply disappeared apparently...
Twas probably just the folks from back Home, keeping an ever watchful eye on me eh :-) :-) :-) ...
And that, i think, just about brings such a blog offering to its final ending folks...
(https://www.ourquantumparticulates.org/videos/a-pubs-journey)