Whatever Happened To...?

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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  NotBert on Sat Jan 13, 2018 7:22 pm

JOHN H STRACEY

Stracey was a welterweight boxing world champion whose 70s sideburns gave him the look of a landlord of a boozer whereas his demeanour would have him occasionally put on a full length leather coat with a sawn-off in a concealed pocket and carry out a gangland hit on some uppity cunt who's been getting ideas above his fucking station.

He ended Jose Napoles career in his adopted hometown Mexico City in '75 in front of 40,000 people in a bullring who'd have happily seen him cut into steaks. Napoles was a legend in his own lifetime, 35 years old at the time of the fight but having left Cuba in '61 before it outlawed pro boxing, the likelihood is that he'd shaved off a few years and his effortless style (nicknames were only fo the greats and he was "Mantequilla" - "Butter" because he had a silky smooth style, not because he'd throw the fucking head in) meant that he could have been anywhere up to 95 years old...

Napoles however, may have slowed down as he aged. Stracey beat him into the ring by ten minutes and had to stand around for a bit and wait for him. When he turned up, Stracey applauded him - "it's Jose fucking Napoles, he's a legend". Stracey wasn't however in the little bit starstruck. He was however fist-struck as Napoles put him on his arse in the first round and he did well to survive. Two rounds after he returned the compliment and had no end of Mexican cushions rain down on him for putting Napoles down. Three rounds later, Napoles's cuts were that bad that even the Mexican home crowd admitted that it might be a draw... It was a huge shock. Napoles never boxed again and indeed, could not be tempted back by the likes of Hagler.

Stracey would successfully defend his title once and then lose to Carlos Palomino, another Hall of Famer like Napoles, which suggests Stracey was fucking unlucky to have been around when he was.

In later life, Stracey would buy a pub, the Three Horseshoes, in Norfolk, and renamed it the John H Stracey. In 2011, it would revert, but there is no record whether it was considered to be called the Carlos Palomino.

Stracey ran a boxing school and later became a publican but would refuse to confirm or deny he owned a full length flappy leather coat with room for big pockets. The H he used as a middle name initial was only put there to differentiate him from John Stracey, a Barking chip shop owner who spent an awful lot of his Saturday nights frying haddock and telling visiting Mexicans trying to psyche him out to fuck off, the bloke they want is in Bethnal Green, do you want scraps with that? Maybe a pickled egg?

Stracey obviously spent the later years as an after-dinner speaker and appeared in Risen, the story of Howard Winstone, where if you tried to break into the set you'd get leathered by about twenty-five assorted ex-champion boxers all who were given a small part.

Oh yeah, and when there was a Krays memorabilia sell off in the Blind Beggar, he went along, same as he did as a 15-year-old on the night Cornell was murdered there. Thought I was joking about the coat, eh?
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  Nobby Cheese on Sun Jan 14, 2018 3:13 am

NotBert wrote:JOHN H STRACEY
 The H he used as a middle name initial was only put there to differentiate him from John Stracey, a Barking chip shop owner who spent an awful lot of his Saturday nights frying haddock and telling visiting Mexicans trying to psyche him out to fuck off, the bloke they want is in Bethnal Green, do you want scraps with that?  Maybe a pickled egg?

lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol! lol!
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  Nobby Cheese on Sun Jan 14, 2018 3:16 am

I remember John very well....I'm a year older than him.....I'm September 1949 he's September 1950.
A solid fighter.
He had a career record of 45 wins, 5 losses and 1 draw, with 37 knockouts.
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  NotBert on Fri Mar 23, 2018 6:52 pm

Remember this??

NotBert wrote:Mike and Bernie Winters

Mike and Bernie Winters were of course a double act, two brothers who were eventually split up when a giant fucking St Bernard named Schnorbitz muscled in and took the job of straight man off Mike.  Or Bernie.  I'm not sure which one was meant to be the funny one because in the end, the dog was stealing the fucking show, Bernie remarking through tears on his death the same words Brian May said when Freddie Mercury died - "Well, that's me fucked."

Bernie was culled by the TV assassins in 1991.  Married to Siggy, famous for calling his brother "Choochy Face" before they fell out and "Fuckface" after, he starred in a TV movie where he played Bud Flanagan alongside Leslie Crowther's Chesney Allen.  This vehicle made the blacklist of shows that were to be suppressed compiled in 1990 by Michael Grade, the CEO of C4, and within a year, Bernie had been taken out with radiation poisoning (officially; stomach cancer) after dining with Richard Whiteley.  Leslie Crowther, incidentally, almost died the year after when in a car crash in the same week after The Big Breakfast started.  Gaby Roslin to this day cannot explain her movements on that day...

If you don't believe me, look at Frankie Howerd and Benny Hill.  Died on consecutive days in 1992.  Coincidence?  They didn't find Benny Hill for two days, dead in an armchair and his grave was disturbed around he same time as Crowther's "accident".  Benny Hill, meanwhile, gave a quote for Howerd's obituary, which is impressive for a dead man.  Howerd rang his agent about future plans for a show two hours before his death.  They were less than ten miles apart when they died and Hill lived in Teddington, where the Big Breakfast is filmed.  Chris Evans became a wealthy man after his stint in the Big Breakfast.  Maybe his audition for it was in two flats in London in April 1992?  We may never know...  Howerd was the only one who reached 70.  Bernie never reached 60; Crowther made 63; Hill, 68.

Mike Winters made good his acrimonious split with his brother.  Although they made up in later life, he moved to the States where he carved himself out a career in clubs and promotions.  Mindful of the assassins of C4, he surrounded himself with living legends Muhammad Ali and Angelo Dundee and kept a 3000 mile Atlantic barrier between himself and Michael Grade's forces of darkness.  Towards the end of the first decade of the 21st century, approaching 80, he felt it safe to return to the UK, the C4 Death Squad having seemingly fragmented on the death of the don, Richard Whiteley; Yorkshire has always been a hotbed for murderers and at 61, Whiteley went too young.  Suspicious?  Look at Father Ted's Dermot Morgan, died aged 45.  Graham Norton was a regular irregular on that show.  Worth a few quid now, is Graham "The Cleaner" Norton.  

However, Evans and Roslin had gone, Vorderman had moved into the Ocean Finance loans market, the faces were all disappearing into the woodwork like German war criminals to Buenos Aires.  The Grade Brothers, the original Russian mafia, Lew, Leslie and Bernard Delfont, were all gone; Michael Grade was now of pensionable age and his iron fist could not maintain a grip on British light entertainment.  Mike came back to Britain after 30 years in exile.  He died in 2013, aged 83.  He had published 5 books, two of which were biographical, two were novels and one, a memoir.  The rumoured sixth book - Letters With My Brother - were loosely detailed in his effects but neither the manuscript nor the letters have ever surfaced.  The content is suspected to cover the split, reconciliation, the fucking dog and in the last letters, Bernie's worries for his own life.  We may never know and forever speculate.

There is no truth in the rumour that Derek Thompson was left in the house alone after his car broke down outside the Winters's home in Gloucestershire shortly before Mike passed away...

The bit in bold about Whiteley being the Don, il capo di tutti capi, and the first man of the C4 Death Squad?

Yeah, well look at this - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ricky_Tomlinson

Ricky Tomlinson, who of course nearly fifty years ago was imprisoned for effectively being a trade union activist, states

In March 2017, Tomlinson claimed during an interview that the late journalist, broadcaster and game show host Richard Whiteley had been an undercover agent for the British security services and had assisted them in securing his 1973 imprisonment by co-presenting a television documentary called Red Under the Bed, which was critical of his political and trade union activities and had swayed the jury.

Mind how you go... Shocked

(Oh, and beautifully, Vorderman "undecided" https://www.dailypost.co.uk/news/north-wales-news/ricky-tomlinson-richard-whiteley-spy--12678466)
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  Nobby Cheese on Sat Mar 24, 2018 1:07 am

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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  NotBert on Sat Mar 24, 2018 8:16 pm

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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  NotBert on Sat May 05, 2018 12:23 pm

Wendy Craig

The 70s was the era of dentists being at war with the manufacturers of Texan bars, where porn was referred to as "blue movies" and pictures were fuzzy because of camera quality and pubic preferences, and BBC sitcoms being either driven by Ronnie Barker or set in the middle semi-detached of a row of middle class houses with velour curtains, an Austin Princess and a big fucking bowl for the car keys when the swinging started after the cameras finished, producing the blue movie previously stated.

Wendy Craig was the doyenne of the BBC's velour-curtained (pick whichever drapes you fancy) generation.  She was married to Geoffrey Palmer in Butterflies, where Nicholas Lyndhurst was her son, she had been in Not in Front of the Children where she played the same fucking scatty housewife to the point that someone says this on Wikipedia and she was a single mother in And Mother Makes Three.  Single mother?  Yes, she could only have ever been widowed.  She ended up writing Nanny for herself when the sideburn sex dried up.  She also has two children, one to her husband and one to John Mortimer with whom she had an affair and ended up Rumpoled.  She was widowed heself in '94.  Her husband played the trombone.  No, he really did.

But where is she now?  Apparently at the age of 83, she has rolled up in Emmerdale and a lot of her back catalogue was erased (see HOBSON, DEREK) so she fills her time writing letters to commissioning editors telling them they could do a crossover in an old folks' home where she would be living with Geoffrey Palmer (now 90) and June Whitfield (92) and an animatronic Terry Scott.  Penelope Keith (78) has also shown an interest but Craig has drawn a line at Whitfield being the only dame.  Flick Kendall is also out because "she just gives it away, the hooer".  That and Richard Briers and Paul Eddington are also dead, but Peter Bowles is sat by the phone.

She likes jigsaws, bridge and occasional underground dog fighting and has the UK's no.3 ranked Akita in her stable.
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  Nobby Cheese on Sat May 05, 2018 1:26 pm

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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  Nobby Cheese on Sat May 05, 2018 1:27 pm

"when the sideburn sex dried up"

lol!
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Re: Whatever Happened To...?

Post  NotBert on Sat May 19, 2018 9:38 pm

BRIAN DENNEHY

I am not fucking about here.  Brian Dennehy is the greatest actor who ever lived.  That sounds a bit odd, but here's why.  You know the way Daniel Day Lewis moulds himself into roles and wins Oscars for playing an Irish writer with cerebral palsy who can write with the toes of one foot only, an oil baron who will drink your milkshake or Abraham fucking Lincoln?  Yeah, so he's a chameleon.

Brian Dennehy isn't.  Dennehy is so fucking ace that when they write a film, they say things like
"The chief of police is a big fella, real fucking hardassed cunt"
"A bit like Brian Dennehy?"
"Fucking bang on, put his name down as the part, call his agent, offer him whatever he wants"
Then the script says "Leading man; maybe leading lady?; confidant of leading man; Brian Dennehy; racist bullying pal of Dennehy; couple of affable deputies; couple of dickhead territorials; twat lieutenant you kill off early doors..."

"Gorky Park, what a book!"
"Yeah, you feel for Renko but you can't help but like that American copper"
"The hard fella, works all but alone, can hold his drink, hard as fucking nails and hard to take down"
"Yeah"
"Martin Cruz Smith might as well have wrote 'can I call him Brian Dennehy'?"
"That's exactly what I thought"

They don't say "Brian, can you act like a tree" in this scene.  They just say "Brian, turn up, be yourself and just nick off when you're done".  In the script, for two pages it just says "Brian is Brian for a bit".

He's still alive, nearly 80 and he's done some serious work over time.  Still looks like a bloke who'd throw you out of a Manchester pub at quarter past eleven for being a cheeky cunt.
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