John Nicholson on Brian Clough

It goes like this:

I was a roadie for a fat lad called Humpty who had a NWOBHM type band at the time. They were quite good if your idea of music is the sound of amplified buzz saws and a shouting bear.

He was booked to play a heavy metal pub gig. We unloaded the gear, set it up and went to the bar and thus began a night of debauchery, surrealism and comic genius which involved all of the band receiving the intimate attention of the local metal girls, hoovering up some of the finest amphetamine sulphate the midlands had to offer, a large pile of cash and some semi-naked ladies dancing on tables. All good fun…but it was the end of the evening which made it so special.

After the gig we spilled out into the street and one of our number, intoxicated beyond the normal human limit, proceeded to remove his clothing all the better to offer pleasure to the passing ladies.

It was only a matter of time before the boys in blue arrived to take us all away, so when I saw a stern figure marching towards us out of the black of the night, I assumed it was a copper come to tell the lad to put his knickers back on. But no. It was a higher, greater authority.

It was Brian Clough.

Read the rest here.