have a great day ronnie monster

You could also ask him about the time he was doing his Buster Bloodvessel impersonation on the bar table in the boozer, just round the corner from the Bloomsbury Crest (as it was then), while all the time, he'd left his bag (containing his money, wembley tickets etc) in the pub at the side of Kings Cross.

Or when, in the same hotel, he felt sick at breakfast. I grabbed him by the arm and stopped him puking into the rubber plant at the restaurant doorway. I ushered him down the hall, by which time he had built up quite a head of steam. I found a door that was unlocked, pushed Ron into the room and as he was projectile vomiting, the maintenance man, who was stood on a stepladder, screwing a new light fitting to the ceiling, just carried on as if it was a normal experience.

Did his mam ever get the grafitti off his "Yorkshire Born & Proud Of It" t-shirt?

Those Wembley trips I used to organise from Georgian were an experience never to be forgotten