Blue
Kipper Star Man Presentation Night 2001
Just as you never forget how you lost
your cherry so the Blue Kipper boys will never forget their first presentation
evening. All night they circled like worried sharks to make sure it
went well. They needn't have worried. It was a memorable night for everyone.
But anyone who's tried to put this kind of night together will know
just how much work goes into it.
For the record, there was only one misfire
and that was when Sharpy failed to show because, according to sources,
"he was at the races." Pity. Your loss, Sharpy. Everyone else
had an uproarious, devotedly Blue Belly night.
It was held in the Taxi Club at the corner
of Cherry Avenue and Walton Lane. A packed full house filled the tables
and spilled over into the bar to pose questions and listen to Gordon
West, Brian Labone, Richard Gough and Michael Ball. Which was perfect:
Three different generations of football folklore and stories and laughter
to make the whole evening fly over as quickly as Concorde on after-burn.
It was far too short.
At the back of the room a huge banner proudly
proclaimed "We Don't Care What The Red Shite Say...."
Gordon, larger than life as always, was
a perfect foil for Labby. You couldn't help noticing Brian's earlier
copious visit with John Barleycorn courtesy of the Blue Kipper lads.
Gordo was in much greater control but only just, and only because his
hips are giving him enormous problems these days, largely because he
can't find 'em any more! Goughy, looking a million dollars, was an absolute
credit to himself and a perfect gentleman too; he's going to be irreplaceable.
Bally gave everybody enormous cheer with his commitment to our cause.
The questions flew thick and fast. Westy
finally put to rest one that bothered a lot of us: Why didn't he go
to World Cup Mexico in 1970? According to Labby it was because his missus
of the time said if he went she'd divorce him. So he didn't go. And
she divorced him anyway. Ouch. For those who didn't know already, Brian
gave us the term "flatfooting" for when a striker leaves his
foot behind to catch a defender as he clears the ball. It's enough to
disable a defender or break his leg. The striker's flatfoot is left
across the shin. Westy's thoughts on our current keepers were almost
incoherent. He was largely reduced to shaking his head. We know the
feeling, Gordon.
Both agreed the pace of the game is far
faster these days and the players much fitter. Well, it's the least
modern players can do, given the money they get and the brevity of their
tenure. It was clear both of the old warhorses still love the game hugely
and are ready to share their reminiscences and observations openly with
the fans. The question is, how will this play with the current crop?
Goughy looked as fit as any player you've
ever seen. Listening to him, you couldn't help thinking what might have
been had we had him at the top of his form and true fitness. As I said,
he's a gentleman with no illusions left about the game. He described
in Edgar Alan Poe detail his reaction to an Alan Smith "flatfoot"
on him. Smith did one to left wing obscurity for the remainder of the
game to escape the retribution of a seasoned pro player. Made you shiver
to think what would have happened during the first few minutes when
Goughy saw the purple mist.
Brian came back in on this one and noted
there's a time and a place to do these things, Isn't There Michael?
And winked. The touch of authenticity came when he said he always did
his in front of "the half time score plates, the ones with rust
around the edges so's they'd infect any cut" after the recipient
got hurtled into them! Erk. Being hit by Labby must've hurt. Then again,
we can forgive The Last of the Corinthians anything. He only got booked
twice in fourteen years. Just think about it.
I was a bit surprised when there was some
slight hesitancy in Goughy's response to management questions concerning
himself. I read that as a slight lack of confidence in whether he could
do it. I hope I'm wrong. The man seems so focused it is difficult to
imagine him missing in anything he does.
Bally brought the roof in when someone
asked him why his sister hasn't given her phone number to Steve Gerrard
and he said vehemently, "He isn't good enough for her so he can
FUCK OFF!" Ohhhhhh but the Blue Bellies loved that one. Then he
brought the roof in again when he said he had no doubts at all, he wants
to stay, and will only go if the club need to sell him. Then he left
us all in no doubt either that Jeffers is going because he wants to
go. So goodbye to The Ears and no loss. Right at the end, a young voice
shouted from the back, pleading aching in every word, "Stay with
us Bally!" If we can hold onto him then he and his ilk are the
future, warts and all. We need him.
It was a night of Blue camaraderie, loads
of footy songs, some of them long forgotten and yarns till they came
out of your ears. This is what footy is for, nights like this. Fans
and players and no bullshitters. Great, just great.
So the Blue Kipper boys did a terrific
job and we all look forward to many of 'em. I only ask one thing: Can
we make it on Fridays or Saturdays in future? My head's still aching
badly.
Yours In Royal Blue Kecks,"Mickey Blue Eyes"
