Where do i start...
Played men's football at 14 for the the Royal Oak in Keresley and EVERY single game there was a brawl..
I think it was Sunday league Intergalactic Division 8 or something and the standard was so bad that most of the teams we played had a known hardman\criminal playing for them.
I was pretty tidy as a young lad and was kicked to f**k every week.
I kid you not on one occasion at Coundon Hall Park, all 10 outfield players were fighting with the opposition team while i was shitting myself hiding behind a goalpost.. haha.
Then i moved on to play for Shilton for a short while and that was too serious for me so then I moved on to the Devonshire Arms where we would try and fill the changing rooms (if there were any) with as much weed smoke as we could before we went out on the pitch, there was numerous times players were spewing by the corner flag just before kick off.
I remember one Sunday playing Whitley at the Whitley Common and as i went up for a header 2 big lads sandwiched me and i landed on the back of my neck.
I was in a bad way but in those days you just hobbled off and sat in agony on the sidelines...
I thought i had winded myself and hurt my knee but after going to hospital about 3 days later I realised how bad it was and had dislocated my shoulder AND kneecap as i landed so badly with the 2 blokes on top...
I then played Saturdays for the Dunlop where one canley lad, who had no job, robbed shops and stuff, when skint would get sent off on purpose then go and rob money from cloths in the oppositions changing rooms. Jesus he was a wanker...
Then i moved onto the Coventry Colliery and stayed there for years, and had some right dingdongs with the Wallace and Hare and Hounds..
Best memory with the Colliery was playing in the Carlsberg Cup (which was basically any Social Club that served the beer could enter and with the final being at Anfield, we thought "Bollocks, why not" and entered...)
Amazingly we got to the last 64 teams in England and went to Birmingham City's, St Andrews ground, for the final 64 round draw.
I was captain at the time and as we're drinking the free Carlsberg (obviously) Liverpools Mark Lawrenson comes over and asks us who we want to draw in the next round.
We didn't know who our next Sunday league opponent was let alone who we wanted to play in this and just said we'd be happy with an away draw at a decent ground.
When the draw started we realise that Mark Lawrenson was actually pulling the away teams out the hat and yes.. you guessed it, he pulled our name out against Bridgend (who we later found out were pretty much a semi professional club who had just picked up players from West Brom...)
It was so cool to have him call our name and look for us in the crowd and give us a thumbs up.
So the day comes and we hire a coach so everyone can come and watch.
The beers are flowing and the joints are being passed around on the trip over and we get there about an hour before kickoff.
Bridgend are already on the field doing shuttle runs and all kinds of shit.. lol.. and it's a ground with 3 stands... (remember we are used to the Colliery, Sowe Common, Coundon Hall, Whitley common etc)
The banter in the dressing room before was magnificent.
To cut this short, we lose 3-2, play bloody fantastic and were unlucky not to win to be fair.
We shower, head to the clubhouse and the other team are all in their tracksuits and drinking energy drinks and we hit the bar...
My brother wins a bottle of whiskey in the raffle and it's shots all round...
The other team leave and the beers are flowing nicely.
The owners of the social club say they wish we had played there as we actually spend money behind the bar and the other team was a bunch of prima donnas..
In the next room a 50th birthday party is going on and Right Said Freds "I'm too sexy" comes on really loud.
We had 2 bald lads in our team who we called Right Said Fred and they proceed to gatecrash the 50th party and start stripping down to boxer shorts on the dance floor..
We are all in a circle dancing and clapping and encouraging the lads to strip and a few younger ladies join the circle and it's all going well...
After about 10 minutes the guy who's birthday it is has had enough and comes and screams at us to get out and starts kicking the lads (who are in their boxers by now) up the arse until we leave.
Bear in mind we are only in the next room and it seemed the ladies enjoyed our company more than the 50th bloke as they joined us for the rest of the evening
(i even think one of them was smashed in the toilets by a right said fred guy... lol
Man, I have never laughed so hard in my life... what a day that was..