So I'll start with sport because that was really important to me but it's now less significant than a trip to the barbers with a picture of paul mccartney in my hand asking if I can look like this and coming out looking like a fuzzy egg instead. sport was really big with me in the 70's and the 80's when it all seemed to matter and things and life were more real and went onto to become memories and not regrets or worse nothing. i supported liverpool from bob paisley's time - keegan, clemence, case, hughes, heighway - you'll never walk alone - but had a season ticket at man city in the year they bought Trevor Francis for over a million, you know a couple of years after cloughie paid a million and forest went onto win the European cup. euro success was sort of relay race in those days as Liverpool forest villa swapped who was the boss club which reminds me that Liverpool won the European cup in rome in '77 against Borussia Mönchengladbach with nine english players, one irish, one welsh. the players in those days came from the cities around the ground and cared about the club weren't removed in big houses in cheshire with agents and hangers on and wags and spit roasts but seemed decent blokes you'd meet down the pub and watch a game with*. rip brian greenhoff. yes I used to care but now i don't. and then ovett coe and then ovett coe and cram and don't forget peter elliott tough of the track yorkshire man who made it hurt for the others and had more balls than any runner i've ever known except kris akabusi who went toe to toe with the american individual gold medal holder on the last leg of the 400m and beat him. kinda did that phil brown thing and BTW there's a phil brown road around here in an estate off wandsworth road. but ovett and coe were the class in a glass trading world records and gold medals other countries' runners were just filling up the quotas in their races. but that's all gone now and i hate athletics as all doped up cheats and i hate football as all overpaid mercenaries falling in the penalty area and what would tommy smith or ian gow have made of these ballet dancers - ripped them off at the knees and taken the red like a man throwing their shirt on the pitch in disgust and served their three match ban like men whilst worshipped by the terraces and winked at by the manager who probably graduated through the ranks themselves. yes terraces all gone now after bradford after hesel not the fault of the fans the fault of the greedy clubs who take the money and despise the fans the passion the loyalty. doesn't matter now all about tv revenues and far east shirt sales and marketing rights and buying players abroad rather than give kids here a chance and nurture talent. greedy bastards. so i no longer care about sport not about football not about cricket hate rugby athletics golf and in fact any fucking sport sorry sorry but i find it all rather pointless and contrived. i'm aware that somewhere something is missing and that some moments stick in my head that make me cry and make me yearn for those days when the cop ruled and when we had the best runners but do you know what i don't miss sport i don't have the time for sport and i don't have the energy for sport and so sport would be the first thing i no longer give a fuck about...

But if I ever met Steve Ovett. Or Seb Coe. Or Steve Heighway. Kevin Keegan. Ray Kennedy. Iain Rush. Phil Neal.

Brian Greenhoff used to drink in the bar where I worked. Always down to earth, good to chat with never gave it the I'm a star treatment. He was a man who liked his drink, his fags and had some good stories to tell. RIP Brian - there's some great Youtube moments out there.