CHAOS - Too. Week H

Not 'arf, mate!

Here we go, this one's been simmering on a low gas for ages!


Stephen Hendry: 7 time World Snooker Champion, scourge of Jimmy White having beaten him in four Crucible finals, and now part of the BBC's Snooker commentary team.

The story I'm about to tell you wouldn't be out of place in the late, great John Sullivan's portfolio of legendary comedy scripts, but it really did happen..... to my brother!


My brother (we'll call him Lee, because that's his name), has lived up in Scotland now for almost a quarter of a century, and he once worked as a roofing/chimney specialist in Edinburgh and its surrounding area after learning the trade from his father-in-law (who we'll call Walter, because that's his name), whose family is the longest-serving 'Chimney-sweeping' family in the city, with a proud history going back a number of generations.


Back in 1995 Lee got a call one day from a lady who turned out to be the mother of Stephen Hendry. This was at the height of his career, and she was calling on her son's behalf for my brother to provide a quote for some work on the country house he lived in at the time in Westfield, West Lothian. After a couple of trips to the property to speak to Hendry in person regarding the work that needed doing, a price was agreed and Lee took the job on and, as was often the case, Walter went with him. Although they had their own businesses, they still shared a lot of work with each other. When they turned up at the house, the Snooker champ was not at home this time, and instead they were greeted with a huge sign bearing the warning: "BEWARE OF THE DOG". My brother recalled that he'd read somewhere that he had two Rottweilers at the time, so they took the warning seriously.


So with that in mind they got to work at the front of the building, keeping an eye out for the dogs, and sure enough it wasn't long until they heard a loud, fierce bark coming from the distance. Lee was only halfway up the ladder so quickly started to climb down, but Walter had already made a sprint for the van, so Lee had to get down quickly as the ladder was falling down sideways, scraping across the front wall with my brother still trying to clamber down it! Once down he made a dash for the van, with Walter already safely inside and the ladder hanging precariously from the front porch. However, my brother was struggling to get any momentum as the grounds were covered in gravel, and he started to panic! Having picked up just about enough speed, he was then unable to stop himself and slid straight past the van Scooby-Doo-style! Fortunately, he managed to scramble back and get in safely and shut the door.


When the 'dogs' finally appeared, it turned out to be nothing more than a single harmless Border Collie! Embarrassed, they got on and finished the work. After having a quick look around the grounds, which included the brand new Ferrari that his manager Ian Doyle had just bought him, they went home. They were then called back after Hendry had left an answerphone message with Lee to offer them some more work. The man of the house wasn't at home on this occasion either, so when the work was complete, Lee had to deal with his Nan, who upon hearing the cost of the work (£120) and while stood in the grounds of her multi-millionaire Snooker playing grandson's country house, frowned at Lee and said: "I wish I could get a job for so much money in such little time!"


She was determined to get her grandson's money's worth though, and made sure they cleaned a gutter that she knew had needed some grass removing before they left. So while up on the roof finishing off the gutter, my very pi**ed-off brother grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote "Jimmy White Rules OK" on one of the slates! A week or so later, Hendry's mum rings Lee again, and he instantly thinks it's to complain about something, maybe even the chalk message on the roof? As it turned out she was only calling up to ask him if he wanted to be a lucky chimney sweep at her son's forthcoming wedding to his long-time girlfriend, Mandy Tart (I kid you not, that's her maiden name)! Of course our kid was more than happy to do so, but when asked how much he will charge for the event, Lee declined payment, and instead simply asked for a few copies of any photographs of the day that included him.


The wedding was in Muthill, Tayside, and Lee went along in full chimney sweeping gear, complete with brush. He took his wife (we'll call her Sarah, because that's her name!) for moral support. When they got there, the area leading up to the church was packed with fans and the press who were gathered on either side of the road which was cordoned off for the event. As they walked through the crowd they could hear one or two people saying things like: "Awww, look, he must be a real fan!". Sarah just laughed, as anyone would, but Lee was seething with embarrassment! After producing his business card to security at the Church gates, he was allowed into the grounds. He stood with the press and security, giving an interview to a reporter while he waited for the newly weds to appear for the photo session.


When the ceremony was over, out came the happy couple followed by their guests, including a host of celebrity friends. So the photos took place, with my brother on one side of the groom, and the new Mrs Hendry on the other. Afterwards, Lee then gave another interview to the press and went home feeling understandably chuffed. The only thing that soured the day for our kid was the interview that he gave to one Scottish newspaper. In spite of him informing the reporter that he had attended the wedding in full Chimney Sweeping gear at the personal invitation of the bride and groom, he still went ahead and printed a story suggesting that he was an eccentric fan who turned up of his own accord to wish them well.


Not only that, the press also claimed that the groom was unhappy with my brother for having got soot on his wife's wedding dress, which was absolute nonsense of course! Lee said that Stephen Hendry was a really nice, down to earth bloke, and was brilliant with him throughout. Besides which, our kid didn't stand next to the bride, and we have the photograph to prove it! It's a great photo too, but unfortunately I couldn't possibly post it here without permission from Mr Hendry himself.


It just goes to show that you can't always believe what you read in the papers! Oh, and the headline for the story of their happy day in one of the tabloids was equally 'respectful':


"CONGRATULATIONS, MRS HENDRY, YOU'RE NO LONGER A TART!" ........ classy.


The Hendrys moved out of their country house after the wedding, I wonder if Jimmy is still there?

Cheers, Maccy!

Happy Birthday Stan (the referee).

You may remember my story from Chaos One. It concerned Stan the referee and his sending off of "Georgie Best".
(Please buy a copy of the book if you missed it, or refer back to the "S" section if you did buy it, thank you).

I was speaking to my Mum in New Mills last week and she told me about a newspaper article concerning Stan the Man. He has just celebrated his 80th birthday and ............. you guessed it............ he is still refereeing (albeit at only junior levels).

Well done that referee.

Great story, gazza.

I'm 'green' with envy at your bro meeting such a legend of the game. I bet the air turned 'blue' when they heard the dog barking. Understandable if you brother balk-ed at all future approaches from journalists after that.

Hockey (part 2)

Eppy's Epic story reminded me of my foray into the alien game of hockey. We had to play and learn the game as part of our College course (PE Training) as we would be expected to teach it at some time in our future careers.

I had never lifted a stick in my life before, and as a "leftie" at cricket and golf found the whole experience quite daunting, nay impossible, unless I played with the stick upside down (very difficult). The College coach, Stan Wigmore - England Ladies Coach during the 70's, called me over during the third or fourth unproductive session.

"I have just the position for you young man ! Get over there put on the pads and kickers, stand in goal and use your
effing feet".

I did play for the College 3rd team in goals once, lost 4-0 and 3 of those were penalty flicks, so I didn't do so bad. No great padded gloves, masks and chest pads in those days. Softees !! Mixed hockey is probably the dirtiest game I have ever competed in (apart from water polo which is psychopathic). Where those "ladies" prodded with the stick was rather uncomfortable and my ankles have never really recovered. Fully made up for with the bar-room antics and "extra-time activities". Brought a whole new concept to "playing away".

Hapoel Tel-Aviv

When I was young (and lazy) whenever a member of my family went on holiday they'd bring me back a football shirt from wherever they went.

One time my Dad went to Israel with my Grandma it was always a dream of hers and of course he returned with two shirts. One was the away shirt of the Israeli national team and despite having an unrecognisable badge my dad informed me it was the home shirt of Hapoel Tel-Aviv.

So impressed was I by this piece of pretty impressive football memorabilia that I actually would follow how Hapoel were doing on the internet circa 2003 so it still took ages! Naturally I never watched them play.

About a year later an Israeli student joined our school and was mad about football and funnily enough he supported Hapoel. Impressed by my knowledge of the scores and the odd player he asked how I knew this and I told him about the shirt.

A week or so later we invited him to play football with us and to impress him I went in the Hapoel shirt. He was mightily unimpressed. Oh balls was it a blatant knock off? Not quite it turns out my dad was misinformed.....it was the shirt of their huge rivals. Maccabi Tel-Aviv!!

I never did love them in the same way....

Aaawww... you guys!

Too kind, too kind - and it does knock on the head any thought I might have had about putting up, in direct competition, the story about a hedgehog and the harlot of Hartlepool. Some other time...:-)