Return of the Rev
Well-known member
Rebels
the south will rise again
where to start, ?
Martyn was a damn good mate you could always rely to help you out, buy you a beer or just be there with a big grin and an awful joke. We kept in touch until he was too ill to email, i shall miss him greatly.
As for all these stories. Curry ? You may think you know the all the curry stories but the best ever was in bradford, none of this anglicised rubbish, a pure, unalderated bowl of sheer fire. Martyn, mick king, mick cherryman, nick kerr and i went there for deb cook’s 21st after a victorious 1-0 thrashing of york. We were damn hungry and the only thing we recognised was the cut tomato so we shoved those down our throats as soon as we could. Bad news, they were there to cool the curry down. We refused to be beaten because we are british but jees, was it the hottest i have ever known. Many pints later at around 5 am, ghandi got his revenge, no one wanted to be second to the loo but martyn was bigger than me, i shall never forgive him.
The cambridge photo is ironic because martyn, myself, and two others went in chris tampsett’s car because the coach was full. The old mk1 cortina with wide wheels and heavily smoked wheels went a like a bomb and sitting in a nice quiet pub outside the ground 30 minutes before kick off, martyn asked the landlord if he had any trouble with visiting fans. “no, why should i ? Nobody ever watches city.” wrong ground but chris drove us across cambridge at high sped and we got there just in time.
In copenhagen, martyn was one of several brighton fans who stopped the idiots fighting the danes, others were nick kerr, john donaghue, me, roddy clarke etc we were fed up with the braindead giving the country a bad name.
It was graham west who got hit with a hatchet at scratchwood, luckily it was the blunt side and geoff philpott did hold the door shut on the coach, probably protecting roddy’s peanut butter sandwiches. I was looking for anything to use but discovered a large wire waste bin to be bit cumbersome.
Most of you will not know but martyn joined myself and 6 others on tony roger’s stag party to majorca in ’82, this is where he got the nickname manatee, can’t think why. My abiding memory, apart from martyn barfing on the floor at 4 one morning and then getting back into bed, was his incredible adlib to a bunch of guys from chelmsford who stood up to make a toast.
“a toast. The belgrano.” they shouted.
As they all raised their glasses to take a drink martyn shouted out “down in one !”
most of the drink was spilt in the ensuing laughter.
And this was in the gatwick departure lounge.
A truly great mate who will never be forgotten.
Dave reeves
ps who are all these people who know everyone i know ?
Identify yourselves !
the south will rise again