FROM THE WRITER
AdrenalinePumping! Fist-Clenching! BrowScowling!
‘That’s how you see me, isn’t it’?
Well, it’s not true! Ok, so I am all those things, but only at times when people test me. However, indoors, I’m as soft as a pussycat - the big bear with a face full of glitter and lip-gloss that was cheekily applied by my three sweet girls. You see to them I’m simply Dad, the big daft nutter who brings home the Maccy D’sI’ve played Santa by day, and turned into a raving lunatic at night. So, I ’spose you could say I’m the real-life Jekyll and Hyde. But, to those closest I’m simply me: the sweet ‘little’ boy my mother bounced upon her knee. I’m Anthony, Tony, Big Shirl or Shirley.
Now, most of the people who know me, or at least know of me, will tell you that I am, and have always been a lifelong researching lunatic into the life and legacy of London’s most respected gangland enforcer, Lenny ‘The Guv’nor’ McLean. But for the record, my fascination with Lenny was never just about his power as a fighter. No, it was more to do with the respect he earned on his way up the proverbial tough-guy ladder. You see, In London town and beyond, Lenny was regarded as the ultimate bouncer; a man among men with the muscle to back it! And, in my world, that being the valleys of Merthyr Tydfil, I was, and will forever remain one of the same. But listen, the unenviable role of a fist-fighter was never my chosen career path. But as I tiptoed my way through my youth, unfortunately, it was quite simply thrust in my face, and from that day forward, I have known no other world. For the simple fact that ever since that very first day I stood in that lonely pub doorway, my life has been one hellish battle after another.
Now, as many fighting men would tell you, the life of a doorman can be devastatingly taxing, and the difficult task I undertook as I worked my way up from a reasonably quiet little pub, quickly accelerating to the top of the bouncers' league table to become head doorman of one of our town's largest and liveliest of clubs, was duly noted by the Merthyr club-land hierarchy. And as gratifying as that may seem, at the wildest of times this promotion almost took its toll on me; not to mention the strain it put on those people I hold dearest behind my castle walls. So, to say it has been disturbing, relentless, and on occasion, unforgiving, would be a herculean understatement.
From fighting for my life against an unholy amount of ale fueled raging rugby players, to separating scantily clad women during jealous bouts of extreme cat-clawing violence, while young boys without goal or ambition hit the town, with the promise or merest glimmer of a bunk up; an encounter that was never to come to fruition. And, after drinking their body weight in their chosen tipple, they feel the need to take out their anger on some innocent bystander … To Fight … a misplaced reward for some sexual gratification, lost that night! The battles, the brawls and the head butting of walls, mark my words people, through my eyes … I've seen it all.
Therefore, as we stride toward the year 2020, and I tread ever closer to my 25th year on the door. It is at this point in my life, I feel, through blood, sweat, and anguish, I have earned in ample amount, the stripes and honours to bring you this image evoking account; this thought-provoking glimpse into my world as a Pub and Club Bouncer.
‘Total Respect: My Life…’ Was one frightening and fear inducing read. Sonny Gulyer - CTT Magazine.
