A lesson learned early.

Last night as I was trying to get to sleep, a memory came into my mind which has played a huge part in making me the man that I am. I hadn't thought about it for a couple of years and it hadn't really made that much impression on me until last night.

I was 5 or 6 at the time, and playing on the beach behind our arcade at Burnham on Sea. I had a bucket and spade and I was digging a hole (as you do).

A much bigger boy came over to me, punched me a few times and chased me away.

I ran back to the arcade to my Dad, and was crying as I told him what happened.

What he said and did at the time has greatly influenced the man that I have become.

I can't remember the exact words, but basically, he made me go back and fight the bigger boy and stand up to him. He followed a little way back to make sure I didn't get a good hiding as the boy was much bigger than me. Dad made me point the boy out and then he said something that has stayed with me throughout my life.

His words went like this, "Don't come crying to me that someone's punched you. There won't always be someone to sort it out for you. You have to stand your ground no matter how big they are."

Weeks earlier, I remember my brother Bill had come home bleeding after having been beaten up by some of the local teens. He stood out because he had a London accent in a town full of Somerset accents and he was well dressed. If you like he was a minority.

Anyway, Dad made me go back. I went back down the beach (scared as anything I might add) and went up to the boy and told him I wanted my bucket and spade back. He told me I couldn't have them, so although scared, I ran at him and hit him. The punch knocked him over (I don't think he really expected it) and we started grappling on the sand and he started to hurt me again.

After what seemed like an age, my Dad separated us and we came away with the bucket and spade.

Since that day I've never liked fighting, but I've always stood my ground, never backed down and fought when I had to. And as a showman's son who went to boarding school, I had to fight a lot. I was called a smelly gyppo, a pikey. in fact, any derogatory term that could be used, was.

The fact is, it toughened me up and made me stronger. It also made me more aware.

Whenever I was in a situation where I thought a fight was going to happen, I always looked around me and surveyed the area, checked out who the people that were causing the trouble were, and decided who I was going to hit if it all kicked off and how I was going to get out of the situation unscathed.

In today's environment, with knife crime, as it is, I wonder if I'd still be here to tell the tale.

My Dad's words all those years ago and the things he taught me along the way, have made me the man that I am. I'd like to think that I've always stood up for myself and not backed down (and I'm not talking about fighting).

I've never gone looking to cause trouble and if possible, I'd rather not argue either.

But I will not be put down. So those things my Dad said to me have stayed with me to this day. He was a wise man, my Dad.

I'd much rather be like I am than one of the namby-pamby grizzle arses that many people have become these days.

Mind you I've never understood what makes people bully or why they have to make others feel inferior either. I don't suppose I ever will.

 

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