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Yes we are very much on the same way of thinking and I agree with your points on the smallers clubs paying out in wages etc.

My local club Exeter City got themselves into big trouble financially so much so that the burden off debt got them relegated from the football league to the Conference (that and a few dodgy directors).

If it wasn't for the luck of the FA Cup draw with Man Utd then they may have gone out of business this summer but they appear to be saved.

I am reliably informed by a mate who's part of the football supporters trust (that now run the club) that they are paying Sean Devine ?80k per season in basic wages (plus bonuses).

This is a Conference Club for fucks sake. He is in the last year of a three year deal which was signed when they were still a league club but it's still crazy money.

I thought he was a hero when he stated after City got relegated that he was going to stay to help them get back up but that's twaddle to me now. He stayed for the dough pure and simple and because no one else would pay him that amount.

chippy's still there, and you ain't lyin' about the curry sauce - sweeeeeeeeeeet! bastard tesco dictated the one way at the bottom of moss lane about two years ago now, bless them. in their defence, they have revitalised the area, we had a spate of short-lived pound shops appearing briefly, cheeky bastards. you wouldn't get them in hale barns, bowdon ( maybe bowdon vale though), wilmslow, alderley edge etc so why poison alty with them. pound shops have a place to live, they call it wythenshawe forum! chubbs, also alty grammar educated, ah the good old days

Chubbs

When were you at Alty Grammar? I was there from 1975 to 1982 when Norman Sephton Rees Bickers was headmaster. I was in Ron Stengel's form and was taught by him, Kev Pearson, Roy Shallcross, Piggy Wilson, Roy Coleman, George Peters and other such luminaries. Before your time, or do these names ring a bell? Do small boys still smoke in the south bogs and is the donkey pitch still there?

TLW
x

82-88. piggy had a leg amputated so retired, now dead. roy coleman was deputy head when i was there, top bloke. once gave me a slap round the ear that i can still feel on cold days, and the best caning style i've ever had - two quick pats that you didn't even notice until you sat down! agin though, sadly deceased now. bickers retired in 87 replaced by deputy head nodding, and as for the others, never heard of them- sorry. i was in sheila dodds first year. had biology last lesson first day in the science block with fred talbot, bastard gave me detention for laughing when he asked for the correct name for you're ball sack, dodds got me off it though. after that i was in pete fallows form, he was a metalwork guy with a genuine nasty streak worse than that seven foot relief freak hitler looking fucker howe, who i've since played golf with and, it turns out, is a thoroughly decent bloke. i have a friend, rick taylor, who's father, john taylor was then, and still is, a maths teacher there. good bloke, generally pissed.
dr (20 archimedes principle) birch for physics, wales for games, dr green for french, swift for physics, nicholls for history, shorton for art, cowboy taylor for chemistry, any of these there when you were?

chubbs


btw, so thats what the n s r in bickers name was. thanks, always kinda wondered... and was fred talbot there while you were. about half way through first year he started doing occasional spots on granada reports about astronomy then left after second year to do his weather stuff.

... and no, the south bogs have gone so you can't nip in there for a quick snout between classes anymore- moderising n'all that but the donkey pitch is still there. went there last evening just to make sure. may i take it you're no longer local?

Chubbs

You must have been a "sprog" there as I was leaving to go to South Traff to retake me A levels having fucked up bigtime at the Grammoh. If I battered you then, I apologise now. I find it unbelievable that my classmate Ant's younger sister's son is now in the 3rd year there - where has the time gone? I am no longer local - now living in West Sussex, although I was up me Mum's end the other week - she still lives in Hale.

Coleman caned me as well - three strokes for writing a piece of graffito in the lang labs during French. He was a big fucker who could bench 250lb well into his 50s. No-one messed with RC. Piggy Wilson went to that Boddies pub near the bottom end of Hale Road every lunchtime - he was a pisshead of the highest order and deeply unpopular.

Fred Talbot is a difficult subject for me to discuss without fear of the possibility of a lawsuit if I were to put in writing some of the things he tried on boys in my year. Suffice it to say I would not be pleased to see him again.

I recognise nearly all the names of your teachers - some grim fuckers there and no mistake!

Two questions for you:

1. Who was cock of the school when you were there? Ours was Keith Whitfield and he was top boy by the 4th year he was that hard!

2. Who taught you to drive? Might have been my old man, who contrary to popular belief was not, in fact, a dustman.

Laters

Slim

lad called martin joss was the daddy, quiet with a corker of a right hook, floored everyone who thought they were hard. bit of a local hero type 'cos he hated older lads spanking the younger ones, except for friday the 13th - sprog bashing day when he joined in the tradition like all those before him. ther was only one of these when i was in first year and i got royally pasted about a dozen times, learned a thing or two about life that day. if it was you, don't worry about it, i had 4 years of being a beater rather than a victim. you can't argue with tradition
quite right about the talbot issue, we should draw a discreet veil over that one right now
driving taught by a guy called either brian telford or brian from telford, i can never remember. cheshire driving academy, passed first time in sale after 10 lessons. fucked my test so badly in the first 2 minutes that i figured i'd already failed so i relaxed. examiner was some fat guy, test was just after lunch, you figure it out
4th and 5th year was all about rugby and, frankly, i just couldn't get the hang of the game. roy coleman decided he'd start a weight lifting club during games so i joined that instead. how strong was he?
he used to have us for geography too just before lunch. if the sun was out he'd take us outside and kick a ball in the air for us to catch for cash prizes. made a small fortune out of him. top bloke sadly missed

We used to have to go to Weetman's hardware store and get stuff for Roy Coleman - started off with the usual goods like a long weight, glass hammer, striped paint and the like, but some genuine items as well. Don't think we ever had to get four candles, though lol!!

Keith "Whitty" Whitfield wasn't really a bully either, although he did give me a meathead once for no good reason. I think I just said "Thanks, Keith". He set his stall out on the first day of the first year by battering Danny "Bonehead" Robinson and no-one ever messed with him after that. I remember watching Danny knock six seconds off the school 400m record in the fifth year - he was just like Michael Johnson, but younger, thinner, taller, slower and white. Keith took a small crew to Welly Road one day for a laugh and acquitted himself quite well by all accounts.

I was in the "A" stream (ST - Stengel) in my year and one day early in the second year one of the nutters from FL (Fallows) stared at me in a queue outside a classroom and said, in a fairly threatening manner: "Are you in ST?" "Yeah", I replied. "Well you're a poof then!" said he. Cue much laughter and hilarity and one red-faced boy with no retort.

I saw my first porn mag (Playboy) at the age of nine and then started to trade mags at school. There was a lot of good stuff doing the rounds in the late 1970s - Playbirds, Lovebirds and the like - real hardcore. It would be worth a fortune now, I'm sure. One of my mate's dads had a very early toploader VCR where we used to watch films in his garage / gamesroom. One of my mates who shall remain nameless, just in case he were to read this and a lawsuit were to beckon, had a nasty habit of dropping his strides and shamelessly bashing one out in company. Good lad.

Was there much trading in your schooldays and what sort of collection do you have "on board" these days?

All the shirt

Uncle Bert

true story this, coleman once sent me, on behalf of the canteen staff, to the fish market for a leg of salmon. bastard! took a ribbing for days about that. btw, i was in 2-5FL, sn (shorton) was the opposing class in our year. we had a lad, lee buckley, faster than a fart off a greased plate. did cross country round the bollin quicker than a small group of us, who thought it was pointless and cheated by hiding in the south bogs having a snout!

had to walk from the bus stop on lloyds street to school daily taking us past a backstreet newsagents. one day, when i got a bit brave, i asked for something that i knew was in the back of the shop so as the old dear who owned the gaff would have to leave the counter. while she was in the back, a fistful of top shelf entertainments accidentally fell into my school bag, without my knowledge of course. later that day, as i was cursing the unfortunate incident to the tune of a quid a mag, coleman walked in and caught me. after that i became known to him as 'peters library'. he didn't even confiscate them

i'm thinking that this single moment in time is responsible for the monumental collection of entertainment that i have today. i have roughly 400 movies, mostly brits, and 400-500 mags which anyone can have for nowt if they want them. huge variety spanning 20 years and a cracking knave from the 70s

Chubbs, me old bacon sandwich

If you can wait until later this year I'll have your mags off you. If you need to make some space as a matter of urgency I've got a mate in Timperley who I could despatch to your gaff to collect said filth. Let me know.

Anyway, Coleman. One day when I was in the 4th year and had a bagful of porn, my mate copped a glance at it and said to Coleman: "Sir, have a look at what Boney's got in his bag!" The twat! Coleman ignored him, but first chance I got I hoofed them into my desk under a load of other books which was just as well as later on he did want to have a look and I'd have been up shit creek without a paddle. Happy days.

I work for a printers in Sussex and the other day one of our reps, Phillo the Bender, was off to see some new bird for a bit of work. We had recently printed some hideous contact magazines and put some in his briefcase. He ended up buying a paper on the train and as he put it in his case he spotted them which was a right shame as that would been a cracker.

I did once buy some hardcore mags in Soho and stopped at Waterloo for a wank between client visits! Good use of ten minutes, I reckon.

Most of my films are Private, Red Light District & GGG - which studios do yours come from if they're mainly British? I have only a couple of Brit ones.

Let me know about the mags.

Uncle Knobby
x

no rush at all with the mags, they've been sat in a spare bedroom in a couple of boxes for the best part of two years. some bloody weight to them though.
got a shed full of big ben's movies, roadtrips, relish, suburban amateurs, marcus, brit based score, older hard cuts etc. have got a couple of private and ggg, i also have one american film, which is too many i reckon. the only real issue i'm having is starting over on dvd rather than vhs. the hunt begins again

killian, lanky bald bastard that he was. sprained my ankle playing football on the back fields once near the swamp. no sympathy from him, he came over to me while i was writhing around on the ground and booted my ankle telling me to get up 'cos i was nowt but a big soft jessie. told my old fella, when i'd eventually hobbled home, and he went to school to give him a slap. on seeing my dad ( biker dude that he was ), he goes running home with my dad chasing him. he jumps over the wall to his house and broke his leg landing on the other side. this still makes me piss myself even now as my dad went on to become a vicar. who knew?