Low life
Beasts of the field
Jeffrey Bernard
Weather permitting, I shall take a river boat to either Greenwich or Kew this Saturday to avoid the FA Cup crowds from Everton and Liverpool who will be ram- paging in the West End. Maybe the solu- tion would be to go to Liverpool for the day, or even Belfast. Why does awful Wembley have to be the stage for the occasion? They should play the match on a neutral ground in Manchester and save some travel expenses.
Last Saturday, the Coach and Horses was invaded by about 50 animals from Macclesfield on their way to Wembley where their team was playing Telford. With silly hats, silly teeshirts, beer guts, tattoos and loud voices they were a mind- less little mob. They had what you could call a cheerleader and observing him was sinister. He put me in mind of Goebbels. He was only about 20, muscular and with fanaticism shining out of his eyes. There were about six of us regulars in there and he didn't like the looks of us — my reading the Times got up his nose — so he led the mob in a chant saying that the Coach was a gay pub. Give it a few years and these people will be everywhere. There were fights at Newmarket last year and Somer- set cricket supporters can behave like yobs. One day the lawns of Henley might be soaked in blood and the courts of Wimbledon strewn with beer cans.
Yes, it was quite a week for animals. I went to see the fight for the middleweight championship of the world between Herol Graham of Sheffield and Mike McCallum of New York at the Royal Albert Hall last Wednesday night and some boxing fans are pigs to be sure. Quite a few of them are sows too. If it is blood and not boxing they want to see then they could oblige us all by cutting their throats.
A friend of mine, Nick Robson, always eager to tell anyone that he is not related to Bobby Robson the England football mana- ger, helps manage the Odeon Leicester Square where they held the weigh-in for the fight. He invited me along and then very kindly gave me a ringside seat which would have cost anybody £100. Nice that. But even at that hour of the day, 11 a.m., I spotted some lager louts preparing for a night out of shouting rubbish and even advice to two world-class fighters.
I was a little disappointed that our man Graham was only just beaten but he had himself to blame. For the first three rounds he danced around with his arms and hands dangling down at his side. Flashy stuff and I wonder how many boxers have lost fights trying to imitate Muhammad Ali. Then he mixed it with the American instead of boxing which is what he is all about. His corner should have rapped him over the knuckles and told him what to do. Two women sitting by me told him what to do and my ears are still ringing.
It was a very gruelling fight and at midnight I took Nick to the Groucho Club for a drink where the true middleweight champion of the world, Andrea Dworkin, sometimes comes in for a workout. The fight I would really like to promote that would pack them in would be Val Hennes- sey versus Erin Pizzey. Then I would like to see the winner of that bout in the ring with Mike Tyson. Now that would be worth £100. It would also be worth £100 to find a pub on Saturday where they are not showing the wretched Cup Final on their television set.
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