Grafters by Colin Blaney

Author:Colin Blaney [Blaney, Colin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Empire Publications
Published: 2012-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

THAT CHRISTMAS I stayed in Sale on Boxing Day and we all loaded up with tinnies and even paid on the train to Lime Street (a first!) as they had dibble on the rattler watching over us. It was United at Goodison and Everton were on their best roll in history, with so many games unbeaten, but United destroyed them 6-2. I jumped a lift back with Wesley and as we set off up the main road I saw a lone Red at a bus stop with his full Man U outfit on. We were going to pull over and have a word but too late, the first-timer got thrashed, slung into the road where a motorbike ran straight into him swear - it was sickening.

On New Year’s Eve we played Coventry away and were all after the leather money pouch at half-time in the bar. Skinny Vinny hit the light switch and the drinks went west, I jumped over the bar and gripped the cashbox. The police burst in with batons swinging on full alert catching me halfway back over the bar. They dragged me out to the van but it was full, so they turned me round and started escorting me back down to the holding cell in the ground. One had me in a headlock, but on the turn I slipped out of it and saw that the electric gate that let the bus out was still open. I bolted through and down the road, with reds at the top of the open end shouting for me to keep running, as two dibble were right up my jacksie. We all did a full circle of the stadium before I hit the side streets. I was making headway but at the bottom of a street I bumped into a few local brutes, who gladly forced me down to the ground, soon the cops had me collared. Loads of reporters attended the court and I was certain to be looking at a jail sentence but my story that I jumped over the counter to get away from the troubles went down alright with the wig (judge), giving me just a silly fine.

Time, I thought, for another trip over to Europe. Dicko and I met Keano and Manny in Piccadilly train station’s bar, jibbed the rattler and the ferry clean as a whistle over to the Hook of Holland. In the morning I dipped a feller’s wallet for 5,000 guilders. He worked in the money exchange so as we passed through customs I saw him reporting it. Dicko was a few people in front of me in the queue and got a tug; they ran his details through and found his passport had run out. They weren’t too bothered with Dicko but beady eyes noticed me slipping through and as I was about to get in a taxi I heard, “Hello, Hello”. Swoop! They said if I admitted dipping the wallet they’d put me on the same boat back with Dicko, so I did and they didn’t even charge us for the return ticket home.

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