Fitzhugh Fella

Didn't Chopper Harris once say that Cliff was the hardest player he had ever encountered? I see him (Cliff nor Chopper) every now and again when I am in the George at Fair Oak watching a Saints match on the television.

Great story! Some mate you had by the way!

Thanks for answering this Belgrave - I was not sure the exact state of play with Kevin and it sounds like his wife is pursuing the right avenues. I don't think many realise just how ill he had become.

Reading this tonight it is so obvious that the days of mortal fans mixing in mortal pubs/restaurants etc has now gone. Bloody hell following this thread Peter Shilton seems to have commanded more than his area... more like every watering hole east of the Itchen and west of the Test. Now to name drop some not so famous. In the Dell car park circa 1970, kicking the ball around waiting for autographs - one player who joined in - centre-half, Mick Earls, lovely lad, later got involved in Sholing. Tony Byrne was another while recovering from a broken leg would come into the car park and join in the kickabout. Can you see that happening at SMS? Gentleman Joe Kirkup walking up Hill Lane every morning for training with his umbrella and copy of the Times - he lived in London and commuted via BR. Now living in France. Bryn Elliott - from the 50s ran the best off-licensce in Freemantle and still looking great today despite being well in his 80s Paul Bennett - worked so hard to bring fans and players together - has overseen all our book launches and still doing good "charity" work inthe city. There are so many unsung players - and some of you must know them!

God how are the mighty fallen. Whenever I see Bob Charles walking around Chandlers Ford (usually eating a pie) I say to my son "he used to be Saints goalie" and I get a look like I've gone stark raving mad. I used to see Bob a lot in bedford Place in the early 70s - I think he used to be Mick Channon's runner to the bookies.

Norman - that reminds me of a story Bill Ellerington told me when the Saints toured Brazil in 1948. They sailed out on the "Andes" and with most of the ships crew Southampton lads Bill said they were fed like kings. Of course rationing was still around those days so to suddenly have a couple of weeks being fed steak and eggs all the players disembarked about 18lbs heavier. Bill Dodgin was not amused.

Someone mentioned Kevin Moore earlier on - sadly he's not too well these days with a quite advanced form of alzheimers. I met him a couple of years ago and he was struggling then but I hear it is quite serious now. A nice man and a good servant.

How is John? I heard that he couldn't attend the "Constant Paine" launch because he was unwell and due an operation.

OK more blatant name dropping coming up and I swear this story is 100% true. Saint Billy mentioned Mick Channon so here goes. In 1986 I was just putting the final touches to my first book - the Complete Record, and as I was still flying on long haul routes I used to take a small portable type writer with me and get my wife, Louise, a stewardess to type up the manuscripts (I know it sounds boring). We used to fly together - it was called married rosters - and one day landed one of the best trips going with a week off in Mauritius. The trip started with a night in Bahrain and then picking up the next days service from London onto Mauritius. I was working in first class, so I had no idea who was sitting down the back. Soon after take off Louise came into the first class galley and said "guess who we've got down the back - Mick Channon and his girlfriend Jill who are on their way to Mauritius on holiday". Louise had already introduced hereself with "hey I just typed your biography" which sort of broke the ice and as Jill was a BA stewardess on Concorde there was plenty to gossip to be had throughout the rest of the flight. Anyway to cut short a long story before we had landed, Mick and Jill had invited us over to their hotel for a day (us BA crew were staying the other side of the island). I was made up not only because I was going to spend a day with one of my boyhood idols but also I could ask him to write the foreword for the book. The taxi ride to the Le Touserok hotel where Mick and Jill was staying took about an hour but it was worth it. We had a great day on the hotel beach, plenty of chat about his Dell days etc etc. After dark we had a few beers in the bar then went back to his room for van loads of wine and then room service. By this stage all of us were "wide-eyed and legless" and it being about 10pm I asked Mick if he would ring down to reception to order me a taxi which he duly did, booking it in his name. Louise and I said our farewells (we we operating on their flight home later in the week) and staggered into the lobby where our excited taxi driver was waiting. He grabbed me by the hand and said what a great honour it was to drive the great Mick Channon in his taxi. At first I was so "out of it" I didn't cotton on but as we got into the back seat Louise said "he thinks you are Mick Channon, you better tell him". But of course I didn't and the more I went along with his mistaken identity the harder it was to 'fess up. So I let him think I was Mick Channon - no harm done I thought as I graciously accepted his platitudes. But my deception was about to come undone. He suddenly said - "would I mind if we made a detour to his village as he wanted to show me to all his neighbours and friends". I could hardly say no. Louise elbowed me to come clean but with a fuddled brain I wasn't thinking on my feet and before we knew it, we had pulled off onto a dirt track and then arrived at a small village with him blowing his horn to waken and summon the inhabitants. Someone opened the car door and I fell out. I was ushered up some stairs and offered a seat on the balcony and someone else offered me a cold beer (which I did not need but duly accepted). As a curious crowd gathered at first no one realised I was not Mick Channon but it was only a matter of time and I was not half way through my beer when one recent arrival shouted "That's not the Mick Channon I've seen on TV". Horrified my taxi driver suddenly realised he had made a big faux pas and it dawned on him - horror of horrors - he had now woken up half his village to show off a drunken British Airways purser and he was going to be a laughing stock. He quickly grabbed my arm and poured me back into his taxi before the mood got ugly. I can't remember too much about the rest of the journey except Louise giving me a rollocking for going way too far with my Mick Channon impersonation/deception. The taxi also cost and arm and a leg....understandably. When I saw Mick on the homeward flight (we bumped him up to Club World) I didn't tell him how I had cause for a village to be woken from their slumber by making out I was him. He did agree to write the foreward and we kept in touch for a couple of years before Jill married him and left flying. It was a cracking day out despite the rather muddled ending. I have a photo of him and I on his balcony that night, if someone lets me how to post it. Sorry it is a bit of a long story but it is completely kosher.

Motty always had a great memory and away from work he was excellent company (he loved a scotch) but I tell you what Ron, he was a bloody nightmare to work with and for. I had a few run ins with him and once my wife driving the pair of us to St James Park threatened to throw him out of the car. He was/is a perfectionist and had no tolerance if things did not go his way. He also tended to panic a bit and many a time, off camera things descended into farce because of his irrational perfectionism/behaviour. I could repeat the story about him insisting I drag a naked referee (Martin Bodenham) from his changing room so he could interview him why he had called off the Bristol City v Liverpool Cup-tie (floodlight failure) but it was not a pleasant memory - not only because Bodenham did not look good naked but Motson was frothing at the mouth because we missed the live link into Grandstand. Things only cooled after Russell Osman (B City's mgr) subsequently invited us to his office for a cold beer. He was the only manager I met who had a fridge full of beer in his office. I was mightily impressed and so was Motty.

Ah - I remember now - also Hamers, Oakenfuls the sweet shop and Delbridges. I was in Bedford Place today - the only thing you would remeber is Frenches the shoe shop.

Nice one Rut - performing in front of Matt. It don't come any better. Hope life in the States is suting you.

Yes this is accurate - Lowe was the man who came in and altered the plans to include more retail which gave Eastleigh BC the opening to object. It became political as well with the Tories in Hampshire CC (which included Mike Han**** from Portsmouth) basically point scoring over their Labour counterparts in Southampton CC.

Of course John, you are right but I really do think too much has happened for a reconciliation of any sorts - the men involved just don't have it in them. Sad but true.

Hi Frank - fine thanks. You ask why I am loosely tethered to Crouch's camp? Fair question. I think he is the best of a bad bunch. He has some money to bring to the party. The bank respect him due to the fact he runs a highly profitable business. Salz backs him and although I haven't met Anthony Salz personally people I know and trust have, and are full of praise. Having met Leon Crouch quite a bit recently I can say he is definately not bitter towards Wilde or Lowe on a personal level - in fact I was surprised at how little personal venom he showed. He is also a good fan often driving himself up to long distance away matches by himself. Plus he sorted out the Bates statue fiasco which was causing the Bates family (for whom I have a great deal of time) a lot of distress None of the above qualifies him to be Chairman of SFC and like I said he made mistakes but in the absence of a white knight coming over the hill (unlikely) my horse will continue to partake of Crouch's hay for the forseeable future. Kind regards

Can you PM me and tell me where he is these days - last I heard he was selling antiques in Ashurst. Ron Davies and Terry Paine were asking after him recently.

Hiya P - my sister still owns 27A!!! Was Mrs Chivers a butcher? A relation of Martin Chivers told me that soon after he signed for Spurs he came back home and was going on a bit about how he had now joined a big club and all that when a few of his uncles/relations/cousins, most of whom worked down the docks brought him down to earth with a bit of a bang, if you know what i mean!!!

Steve - that is an absolute classic - I am not sure I believe you.

OK OK - I can relax I have been out name dropped

Have met him quite a bit recently - absolutely top bloke, couldn't do enough to help us and so pro the area, the fans and the club.

Hey Colin - how many can tell a story like that!!! I have heard variations of that story but yours sounds the most authentic. Remember that Wrexham game well - 5th round, we were meant to wallop them and they nicked one through a player called Smallman (and I have not checked ITN for that memory)

The White Horse is a different pub these days. The landlady is 22 or 23 and meant to be the youngest in the county.

I remember last year on one of the Ron Davies threads someone told a lovely story about seeing Ron at Southampton Central waiting to catch a train to Cardiff to link up with the Welsh international squad and remarking how many large whiskies Ron threw back at the station bar. It was a great story. Talking of ale house days perhaps I can dispel the myth a little. Back in May 1967 the Saints went on a post season tour of Malaya which coincidentally was where my Mum and Dad were living (they were teachers working for the British Army). Mum had been a teacher colleague of the then Saints chairman, George Reader (headmaster Weston School, Foys Corner) and got in touch with the party when they were in KL. George and Ted Bates invited my mum and dad to accompany the team to a match being played in the north of the country and they travelled on the team bus. (What happened at the game is featured in David Bull's book on Terry Paine and my Dad has written a piece which I will one day publish.) Anxious to repay the hospitality my parents invited all the players and directors to stop off at our house when they travelled backto KL. Fearing the arrival of 25 men on a searing hot day he sent the amah out to stock up on tens of crates of Tiger beer but was amazed when all the players wanted was a decent cup of English tea. I've got some lovely photos of the players relaxing in our lounge. Celtic had just beaten Inter Milan in the European Cup Final and the Scottish players there - Hollywood, Forsyth and MaClaren were all **** a hoop. Dad also remembers the players all taking the mickey out of Jimmy Melia. A young Mick Channon is even pictured checking the runners and the riders in the Straits Times. While all this was going on I was stuck in boarding school at Peter Symonds in Winchester (hi Morph) and couldn't believe it when the letter arrived describing the day the Saints had come to my house. I was gutted. My Dad was pleased because when he returned to England in 1969 George Reader wangled him a season ticket right in front of the director's box where he found himsel sitting next to a very young Keith Wiseman, then a budding tennis star. Probably enough name dropping for one day I think - may be more later.

Those of us who have lived in or around Southampton at some stage must have got to know some of the players over the years or even seen them around the town so let's hear a bit of name dropping with some stories. I've probably told this story before but what the heck it beats arguing about the pros and cons of Chairman Lowe. Growing up in Archers Road and spending my formative drinking years in the Fitzhugh Pub in Milton RD (at one stage the Corner Post) I could count myself lucky that I got to know most of the *stars* from the 1976 FA Cup win. To get the ball rolling let me name drop just one - Peter Osgood. To think a footballer with a big a reputation as Peter Osgood would drink in a little backstreet boozer like the Fitzhugh is mind boggling but he was often in there with Jim Steele, Gerrry O'Brien and others from the Dell. Those three however were all good darts players and were members of the Fitzhugh darts team that played matches all over the city. The captain was a bloke called Brian Arthur but I was vice-captain and one match Brian was absent so I took over for an away match in Shirley (can't remember the pub but it was full of tough looking Irish blokes - as they all were!). It was great opening the pub door and walking in with Ossie, Steele and Gerry behind you. Jaws often dopped but all 3 loved a pint and a craic and soon were just one of the lads enjoying a Monday night out supping lager around a dart board followed by some dodgy curled up cheese sandwiches at the end. I got a great thrill that night shouting out "OK Ossie you're on now". He was one of the nicest footballers I ever knew and incredibly modest and humble. He invited and paid for a coach to take all the Fitzhugh regulars up to his local nr Windsor for a darts match and later they brought a coach down to us, with his Mum and Dad and his gran if I recall correctly. In 1976 I started flying as a steward with BOAC on 747s (soon to be BA) and coincidentally Peter was at the time "seeing" a pretty stewardess called Pippa. He always took an interest in where my next trip was etc etc but at the end of our conversation he would always say with a grin as he tapped his nose "well Dunc, if you see Pippa, make sure you give her my love and not yours". Before he joined us from Chelsea I remember seeing him on the Big Match once fooling around with the actress Raquel Welch who was visiting Stamford Bridge. They were pictured kissing and cuddling and I always meant to ask him what happened afterwards but never plucked up the courage. His early death was a real shock, just weeks beforehand as I left one of the Ted Bates diners I remember watching Jim Steele and Ossie on the stage singing some old Sinatra song and recalled those old darts matches with a smile.

Burley by a million years because he was the only manager who in my opinion never really cared. He was only ever in it for the wages especially in the final 12 months when we financially imploded pandering to his whims. All the others, Branfoot, Wigley, Gray and even Redknapp wanted us to be successful and had feelings for the club.