Read The Mammoth Book of Hard Bastards (Mammoth Books) Online
Authors: Robin Barratt
I’ll always remember Fielding’s face the second he knew it was bang on him: the “Oh God please help me” look. Well, he will tell you himself that there is no God’s help in hell. That prick destroyed a brilliant escape plot. In the war he would have been shot as a traitor. You may laugh and say that’s a bit extreme. Well, it is extreme, as my freedom was stolen from me.
I remember once in Wandsworth block when it used to be down on H1. Our exercise yard used to be at the back of the laundry. Four screws used to take me on my own and stand in a circle whilst I walked round. One day a lorry come up. Bear in mind that there’s a fence and a wall. A security screw and a dog handler opened the gate in the fence. That was it for me. I made a run for the lorry. I only had seconds, but it was worth a try. I jumped on the bonnet of the lorry, and as I went to scale up it a screw was on my legs. All hell broke out. I kicked, punched and nutted for my life. All four were on me with sticks, and even the other two joined in with the dog. By the time I got back to my cell my clothes were drenched in blood. My head had swelled up like a melon! The things we do to go home! I was very spontaneous in them days. I just acted on impulse.
That’s how it was with me. If the gate of opportunity arises, then jump at it. Fuck the consequences, coz if you don’t act on it you may live to regret it. It’s like walking down a street and you see a security van pull up outside a bank and a hatch opens and two bags of loot are slung out. There’s just you, one guard and two bags of loot. What do you do?
Years ago I’d have chinned the guard and done a runner with the two bags. I’d have been a mug not to! Now I’ve no need to do that, but then I wouldn’t have hesitated. It’s a golden opportunity that 99 per cent of guys only dream of taking. They dream their boring lives away. Me, I’m what you call an opportunist. I’m just born lucky or unlucky, whatever side of the wall I’m on. It’s a prisoner’s duty to escape isn’t it? I’m not so sure nowadays. Maybe it’s just old age and the thought of forever being on the run. I guess I prefer to “walk out” the right way, simply as my crime days are well over.
Believe me now, you can’t relate to my world. It’s fucking crazy, inhabited by crazy people, and I love ’em all. I’ve grown up with loonyology. It’s in my blood, in my brain. I eat it, shit it, sleep it and I’m in control of it. Nothing or nobody can ever drive me over the edge again. I’m now the driver on this journey. You have to trust me. So put your tongue into my mouth in the dark. Will I or won’t I? Trust me …
Right now my last seven years have been closed visits. I’ve not had a hug for over seven years. I actually feel dehumanized. I probably am. I no longer feel human. I feel different, not the same. Bear in mind that I’m forever in isolated conditions. Hey, people shout about human rights, well let me tell you something: human fucking rights don’t exist for Bronson. I’ll tell you now. I don’t have animal rights let alone human rights. It’s a fact.
I’m a born poet but yet to be discovered. I’m a philosopher but silent within. The late Lord Longford told me I’m a genius. How? Why? Don’t ask me. I don’t know. I’m an artist. I’m an author. Me. So how the hell does my label stick to me like shit to a blanket? Somebody tell me before the hearse arrives. Tell me before my bones crumble. For God’s sake fucking put me out of my misery.
WALKING ALONG THE EDGE
A tightrope
No net
No harness
Just you and the drop
The bottomless hole
Black as the night
No stars, no moon
Only shadows
Have you ever been there
Well?! Have you?
Have you felt that sweat drip down your spine
The stinging of the eyes
The tremble of the lips
That’s looking at hell
You can smell it
You can taste it
It’s in your veins
The big rush
Like a volcano in your heart
Just waiting
Throbbing
Pulsating
Bubbling away
Have you been there?
Come on … tell me
If you’re afraid to say then whisper
You’re safe with me
Trust me
I’m one guy you can trust
I know how it is
I’ve lived on the edge all my life
A fingertip job
Hanging on, holding on for the hell of it
Laughing all the fucking way
I’ve laughed so hard I’ve shit myself
It’s crazy
Everything is so fucked up
It’s unreal
A giant circus
Forever on the road
I can’t get off
Of course I tried
Many times
It don’t work
It’s in your blood
You are what you are
Accept it
The sooner you accept yourself
The sooner you laugh
Tears turn to laughter
Fear turns to pleasure
Pain becomes a thrill
Join the circus
The Bronson Loonyology Tour
Grab a midget
And throw him as far as you can
Yippeeeeeeeee!
Look at the little fucker fly
Look at the bearded lady
The lizard man
The two-headed dog
We love ’em all
I mean them all
Monsters in human form
Men and women from the unknown
We loved the Elephant Man
We love an ugly bastard
Don’t you?
Political correctness
Kiss my arse
You fucking wimps
Keep away from the tents
It’s not for wankers
Seeing is believing
Believe or fuck off
Faith and hope and ugliness
Bring it on
Wicked
Pukka
Magical
It’s my old woman all over again
The Queen of Tarts
The local bike
Don’t forget to pay the bitch
No freebies
And wipe your shoes before you go in
And don’t wipe your dick on my towel
Why?
Coz I’ll rip your head off
That’s why
So what’s it gonna be, buddy?
My way or your way
Sheep or lion
Butterfly or maggot?
Make up your mind, you sad bastard
It’s your life
Your journey
Your crash
It’s not if … it’s when
But you’re gonna crash
We all crash in the end
One way or the other
Fast or slow
It don’t make no odds
Your time will come
Until it does
Go kick some butt
Kick it black and blue
Keep on kicking till you die
Die kicking
Kick it till the light goes out
Smash your way out of this ugly world
Don’t crawl out, OKAY?!
Former British and European Welterweight Boxing Champion
Introducing … Dave “Boy” Green
T
HIS IS THE
first of two contrasting interviews by writer, actor, martial arts expert and former doorman Jamie O’Keefe. An undeniably hard man himself, in this interview Jamie talks to British and European Welterweight Boxing Champion Dave “Boy” Green about what really makes a tough man tough.
David Robert Green was born on 2 June 1953 in a small fenland town called Chatteris in Cambridgeshire, eastern England. He took up boxing in 1967, joined the Chatteris Amateur Boxing Club, and in 1969 won the National Federation of Boys’ Clubs championship. Dave trained under the watchful eye of Arthur Binder who had also taught Eric Boon, another famous local boxer. Before Dave turned professional in 1974, he’d had 105 amateur fights and won about eighty-two.
As a professional boxer, under the guidance of his manager Andy Smith, Dave won the British Light Welterweight championship against Joey “The Jab” Singleton of Liverpool on 1 June 1976. A few months later, on 7 December 1976, Dave also won the European Light Welterweight championship. Three months later at Wembley, as a final eliminator to challenge for the WBC (World Boxing Council) title, Dave “Boy” Green fought former WBC World Champion John H. Stracey and won, earning Dave a shot at the WBC title.
Dave’s first WBC welterweight bout was on 14 June 1977 at Wembley against Carlos Palomino of Los Angeles. “I was winning the fight right up to the tenth round when my eye closed up and he knocked me out in the eleventh. Full credit to Palomino, it just shows you what world champions are made of,” remarked a humble Dave. It was the first time Dave “Boy” Green had been floored as a professional.
Andy Smith got Dave another fight for the world title against Sugar Ray Leonard on 31 March 1980 in Maryland, USA. He was knocked out in the fourth round and respectfully says of Sugar Ray; “That man was the best man I have ever seen in my life. I honestly believe that even if I had trained for twenty-five years I would have never beaten him.”
Dave “Boy” Green’s final bout was on November 1981 at the Royal Albert Hall against New York-based Reg Ford, a one-time sparring partner to Thomas Hearns. Smith retired Dave in the fifth round with cuts and closing left eye. It was the correct decision to end Dave Green’s formidable career as one of Britain’s most popular and exciting fighters.
Dave still lives Chatteris, runs a successful business, takes part in charity golf events and is a respected member of the local
community
. His success can be summed up by Sugar Ray Leonard: “Dave was a brave fighting man who never gave less than 100 per cent whenever he put the gloves on. He is a warm human being who does tremendous work for charity, and I’m thrilled he has made such a success in business.”
The reason for including two Jamie O’Keefe interviews in this book is to show the complete contrast in beliefs, thoughts and philosophies between a trained and professional boxer, who is not a criminal and has never been to prison, and, later in the book, a champion bare-knuckle street-fighter who has served many years inside. In their professions both are, unquestionably, some of the hardest and toughest men on the planet, but for each toughness has manifested itself in completely different and contrasting ways.
Jamie
:
Dave, we have known each other for over fifteen years now. We also worked for a year together on a project, giving us plenty of time to get to know each other. At the time, we were both proficient in our own fighting arts. Yours being boxing and myself with martial arts yet even then when things became a little strained or we clashed on things, neither of us ever resorted to physical solutions or attempted to use our art to resolve things. For me personally, I was in awe of you and your achievements in boxing and had bundles of respect for you but I don’t think you ever recognized it as such. From my perspective, you were bit of a tough guy who had a heart of gold. I truly admired you. Many people took to you as their boxing hero and would certainly regard you a tough guy. What are your thoughts on that?
Dave G
:
Well as you say, at the time you knew more of me due to the TV coverage than I did of you as a martial artist but the word that really comes to mind is respect! And that’s what it’s all really about. You knew that I worked very, very, hard to get where I got and the word respect is what it’s all really about.
Jamie
: Do you feel that some people are naturally more respectful than others though, because there are a lot of disrespectful people around.
Dave G
: Oh yeah! There is definitely. But I think that people respect you for different things. If you’re in a pop group and have a hit, some people respect you for that. If you are a boxer and make it to the top, some people respect you for that too. If you’re a politician some people respect you for that. It’s all down to the effort you put into something that makes people respect you for that particular thing.
Jamie
: Do you think that discussing a problem is much better than resorting to violence? Because you fought Sugar Ray Leonard and many other boxers, over 105 amateur and forty-one professional fights, so being physical and using your fists to solve a problem would have come easy.
Dave G
: Yeah, but that’s not the answer. It never finishes there does it! It just goes further and further and adds more people into the world of violence, including your family, etc.
Jamie:
So you much prefer the discussion approach to the fighting approach!
Dave G:
Absolutely! Every time.
Jamie:
If I were to ask you what you feel makes tough guys tough, what would your answer be?
Dave G:
Well to me, I think you’re born with it. It’s a mental attitude, it’s determination, you’re either tough or you’re not tough. I do think it helps, as well, coming from a rough background, although I’m an exception to the rule. I did not live in a rough area, my parents always loved me but you find that a lot of rough fellows come from rough upbringing.
Jamie:
But that wasn’t the case for you?
Dave G:
Not at all. My father had a farm; he was a farmer. I think I just had the determination to get to the top.
Jamie:
Do you think you would have succeeded in anything that you went into?
Dave G:
Well my manager Andy Smith said to me that I should go into business when I finished boxing and he was right. I’ve proved again that I can be successful. I have a company and factory that has been distributing to all the major banks since I left the ring, I have six houses, timeshares in Florida, a couple of Cash Converter stores, stocks and shares, and so on. I’m not saying this to be flash. I’m just trying to make the point that it was in me to succeed in whatever I went into.
Jamie:
Your success is not that common for retired boxers, is it?
Dave G:
Definitely not. In fact it’s not that common for sports people in general. When I turned professional and got married I had
absolutely
nothing! All my money came afterwards. I had a very good manager who looked after me and made sure I looked after my money and taught me the right ways to do it. I think whatever you do in life, you need somebody above you to look after you and make sure you do the right things. I was very lucky in that aspect because Andy Smith was like a father figure to me. He made me realize that boxing only goes on for so long, maybe six, eight to ten years. Mine was only seven years but he made me realize that there is a lot of living to be done afterwards and I’m pleased I took his advice.
Jamie:
Yeah, I suppose you could have ignored his advice and stayed in boxing and ended up with nothing.
Dave G:
Absolutely, that’s why he was such a good manager. I had won two British titles, two European titles and fought twice for the world championship and I was never going to be in the position to fight for a world title again so I took his advice and got out and did something else while I could.
Jamie:
So to put it into a nutshell, you were born with that ability, and didn’t go and actually learn how to be tough.
Dave G:
No, I don’t think so. I’ve always had it in me. I used to play a lot of football, then progressed to boxing, but was always
aggressive
with everything I went into. I would always put 120 per cent into everything I did, no matter what it was I was doing. It’s determination.
Jamie:
I believe that anyone can go to a class and learn the physical, psycho motor skills, the physical movements, like taking a young lad through the movements of boxing, karate, etc. Also, I believe you can teach them how to think. For example, if a certain type of punch is thrown to bob, weave, duck, whatever. You can teach them to do certain combination of punches which draws on the cognitive thinking side like, but I do not feel that you can learn the feelings, attitudes, emotions, and values that you get from affective learning, which I believe can only come from your upbringing and life’s experiences, making you what you are, be it tough or soft, bully or victim, etc. What is your view on this?
Dave G:
I think you’re born with it. You’re either an aggressive person, or have the will to win, toughness, call it what you want. You just can’t put that into someone; you’ve either got it or you’ve not got it.
Jamie:
Toughness sounds a silly word but it’s convenient to use for the purpose of my research.
Dave G:
Yeah, but I understand what you’re trying to say. Toughness comes in many different ways.
Jamie:
Of course, but many people have watched people like yourself, Mo Hussein, Terry Marsh, etc. in the ring and want to be like that. They want to know what makes you that tough.
Dave G:
I’m not tough in the world. I’m just as friendly as anybody else in real life. But when I put a pair of gloves on and got in that ring, my personality changed.
Jamie:
That’s the same thing Mo Hussein said to me when I approached him for an interview; “I’m not tough.” It appears that all the guys that are tough in their own arena are also very modest and humble and try to play down their aggressive, tougher side. If I was the most passive person on this planet, afraid of my own shadow, could I be trained and converted into a tough guy, afraid of no one?
Dave G:
Again I would say no! You’re born with it, you just can’t teach people to be tough.
Jamie:
You’re well known for your boxing ability and obviously you have had exposure to boxers of all levels. Does a boxing title mean someone is tough? If not, what does it represent?
Dave G:
It represents many different things to me. It means some people are very skilful, some have got loads of heart, a person like myself has lots of determination but it doesn’t mean that they are tough. I’ve met some great fighters who are very skilful but they are not tough.
Jamie:
Could you put all the tough guys you know of into any sort of category, i.e. are they mostly from the Forces, or mostly from broken homes, etc.?
Dave G:
No, not really, because I come from a good family. I’m not saying that my father had loads of money, but he was comfortable. I think, generally, tough people come from rough areas like Liverpool, Newcastle, the East End of London, places where things are generally tougher. But there are always odd people like myself who are successful or tough from other areas.
Jamie:
If, as you say, you cannot make somebody tough, is it all to do with how you’re brought up? What is the nearest you can get them to what you consider as being tough?
Dave G:
You can’t make anybody tough, you have either got it or you haven’t. That’s my own personal opinion on it.
Jamie:
As a young lad I had a pal, who was a tough and brilliant street fighter who was rarely defeated. I met him fifteen years later and he was a shadow of his former self, practically flinching if anyone came near him in a threatening manner. It was like his spirit had been broken. Do you think a tough guy can be made to be un-tough?
Dave G:
No, I just think it’s approach and a different attitude to life. He was a tough little guy who doesn’t think it means anything to be tough now.
Jamie:
What, like he has matured?
Dave G:
That’s it, he’s matured. When he was growing up he probably thought he had to be tough to be noticed, but now it’s no longer important to him. You’re not going to believe this but when I was at junior school, the best fighter in our year was a girl; it certainly wasn’t me. She was the toughest one in our year.
Jamie:
Do you think it is possible to sense that someone is tough just from the way they carry themselves?
Dave G:
No, not really. I think people do try and act tough but you just can’t tell. I’ve seen ordinary fellows who are bloody hard as nails. You just can’t tell.
Jamie:
You don’t think you can just sense it when someone walks into a room?
Dave G:
No! Because I’ve seen some great boxers who have won championships who don’t even look tough at all.
Jamie:
Is it possible to act tough without really being tough?
Dave G:
Yeah! Anybody can act tough, can’t they? It’s easy to act tough, but it’s about being able to handle yourself at the end of the day.
Jamie:
Most of us have had to do it sometime in our life, right back to school days, to stop ourselves getting beaten up.
Dave G:
That’s right, and we don’t want to take that chance of fighting in case we lose so we act tough, hoping that this will win the fight without fighting.
Jamie:
I think this is a major time in our lives, no matter what age we are, that we must cross the barrier of acting tough to actually having that fight and taking our first step towards being tough.
Dave G:
Absolutely, but even if you have that first fight, be it in the ring or the street, it’s the one that has toughness inbred within them that will go on to be tough whether they win the first fight or not.
Jamie:
How would you deal with a tough guy who is in your face, prompting you to kick off with him? Have you ever had that situation?
Dave G:
I’ve had it a couple of times even when I had my title in boxing. My message to everybody is run like hell, get out the way. As I’ve always said, if you’re in a pub and someone wants to fight you, there’s no promoter there to give you money afterwards. You could end up getting a good hiding for nothing. So you might as well just get away. There are plenty more pubs to drink in.
Jamie:
We touched on this next question earlier regarding the girl in your junior school, with regards to the toughness of male and female. Would you be happy to let women take the place of men on the front-line of pubs and clubs?
Dave G:
I don’t think so. I believe it’s men for some jobs and ladies for other jobs. You can’t do that.
Jamie:
Some would regard that as bit of a sexist viewpoint.
Dave G:
No, no. I mean, like boxing, I’ve seen the ladies boxing in Las Vegas. It’s terrible, horrible. You see a lovely pretty girl with a bleeding nose, to me it’s just unbelievable, I don’t believe in it at all. What do you think?
Jamie:
Well morally, I would not feel comfortable sitting in a factory packing bullets while the women were out there fighting in the front-line.
Dave G:
How can anyone sit indoors looking after the kids while the wife is out earning the living as a professional boxer? It just doesn’t sound right, does it? Mind you, we could be better looking then, ha!
Jamie:
I don’t think that would help us, though. I think we’re beyond saving!
Dave G:
I don’t think many women would want to carry broken noses around. Also, even in your days as a nightclub doorman, it was naturally a male-dominated profession and it just wouldn’t have looked right having a woman on the door.
Jamie:
Why?
Dave G:
Because you want to feel you’re secure. You’re better off with a six-foot-four chap standing there and ready to deal with any problems, who can sort it out very quickly.
Jamie:
So are you saying that men only feel secure being looked after by other men who look tough.
Dave G:
Absolutely.
Jamie:
What do you feel the role of boxing has in making tough guys tough?
Dave G:
Well, it’s very difficult to say. I just think it’s dedication, ability, training, you’ve got to believe in yourself. I just can’t really pinpoint one thing. It’s many things but for me, I’ve got to say, before I fought Carlos Palomino for the world championship, which was my twenty-fifth fight, having been unbeaten twenty-four times I really believed I was unbeatable. But when you do get beat, it takes something away from you. It’s no different to being in the street. It just takes something away from you. Did you ever experience that? Jamie: Yeah, I must admit. As a young black belt I thought I was unbeatable in the street. Whether through luck or skill I was winning fights with ease, but the biggest awakening I had was when one guy pulverized me. He didn’t give a toss as to what belt I was. He kicked my arse. It was the biggest favour anyone had done for me. I changed the way in which I train from that day on. The sad thing, though, was that up until that day I loved karate but losing that fight took that away from me. I have never enjoyed the art since. Silly really, because it wasn’t karate that lost the fight, it was me. Same as it was you that were beaten on your twenty-fifth fight and not the fault of boxing.