MANCHESTER TONY
Manchester Tony loves his dogs, his British bulldogs. And you know what they say about owners growing to look like their dogs – or is it vice versa? I’m sorry, Tony, but you do look strikingly similar and I mean that in the nicest possible way!
I drove to a new housing estate in the depths of the Garden of England – Kent – to meet Manchester Tony. I know – odd! I sat on his plush leather sofa and a brand-new Merc was parked in the drive. Tony handed me a drink in a crystal flute while he shooed his beloved dogs out for a wee.
He was wearing a dark-blue suit which looked like Armani (although I was too embarrassed to ask), he grinned a huge grin and rubbed his hands. ‘Well, whatya want to know?’
He told me about his army days … and about his dogs. He told me about his time inside … and his dogs. He told me about Manchester … and his dogs. I didn’t mind. I’m a dog lover, too. So I told him about my two dogs … and my parrot.
Then we got on to the subject of door work – and fighting. Gone was the beaming smile and the niceties. Out the window with the fluted crystal and even his beloved dogs were given a quick shufty up the bollocks, and the kitchen door slammed behind them.
Tony came alive and I saw the real Manchester Tony. Now it was my turn to grin and rub my hands, now we were talking …
BACKGROUND
I’m originally from Manchester – obviously – but I came down to London when I was in the Army. I wasn’t in for long – went in at 16, came out at 18. I ended up marrying a girl down here in Woolwich so I stayed. I didn’t want to go back to Manchester – there was a bit of a family situation; they didn’t like me up there. Manchester is much more segregated than London; people keep to their own areas – it’s all to do with race. I joined the Army because, basically, I didn’t want to go to school. The training I loved, the discipline I didn’t. But since my army days, I have kept up with the training – I’ve bought my own gym!
LIFE OF CRIME
My first and only time in prison was because of drugs. But it was only a little bird, nothing much to talk about. I spent some time reading books. Believe it or not, I read yours!
DO YOU THINK PRISON IS A DETERRENT?
No. No way, because I walked into prison and it was like walking down the Old Kent Road, it was like being out on the street again. The only difference was there wasn’t women there. Prison was great … well, great-ish. The only thing I hated was missing the kids, because I wouldn’t have them visit me. It’s not right.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN CAPITAL PUNISHMENT?
Yes and no. The usual thing – for perverts, rapists, child molesters – yes. They’re simply scum.
WHAT WOULD HAVE DETERRED YOU FROM A LIFE OF CRIME?
Having lots of money – that’s the only thing, money. I was a bad boy at one point, a total arsehole. When I went to prison, I called my mother to tell her where I was and her answer was, ‘Well, it took them 36 years to get you there but they got you there in the end.’ She always thought I’d end up in prison and she was right. It doesn’t matter who you are or how big or clever you think you are, the Old Bill will get you in the end. They always do.
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN STABBED/SHOT?
I’ve been stabbed once. And I’ve been shot at a couple of times but they missed – thank God! Both times I was working the door – once was in the club itself.
But when I was stabbed I didn’t think, Oh, I won’t do this any more – it didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel it at all when it happened. You don’t feel it at the time – you feel it after. I think it’s all to do with adrenalin. That red mist comes up and you don’t see anything and you don’t feel anything. You’re in a fight – you just go for it. The red mist doesn’t come up as much as it did – I’m more controlled now.
SCARIEST MOMENT?
It’s hard to think of one. My scariest moment was working the door and I was tooled up. We bashed this geezer up and just tipped him down the stairs. The meat wagon’s pulled up, the Old Bill’s come running in. I’ve got a 3.57 Magnum stuffed down the back of my trousers. They came running in and said, ‘You’re nicked,’ and I just said, ‘Oh bollocks!’
Lucky for me, a friend saw what happened; she took the gun off me and slid out a back door. That was the worst moment of my life. I didn’t want to go away for having a gun and not using it – that would be a mug off.
SADDEST MOMENT?
Missing my kids when I was in prison.
WHAT RATTLES YOUR CAGE?
Liars. I can’t stand people who lie. I hate them.
HAVE YOU EVER REALLY LOVED ANYONE?
Yes. My kids. My wife. And my dogs. Not necessarily in that order – whichever way you want to take it. I have to watch what I say here!
WHAT FRIGHTENS YOU?
Losing my dogs. When I lost one of my British bulldogs it broke my heart. I had to have him put down because he was ill – then six weeks later the other one died. I was OK with the first one, but when it happened to the second one, too, it killed me, it really crucified me.
DESCRIBE A HARD BASTARD
A hard bastard isn’t a bully-boy. I work on the door and I’m not a bully. I’m nice, I have style and I’m happy until they upset me and then I’ll bash them. All these bully-boys around – they’re not hard bastards. A hard man is a true man, I think.
NAME A HARD BASTARD
Phil Mitchell – only kidding!
I thought Lenny [McLean] was a hard bastard. I liked Lenny – I met him a few times and he was all right.
WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?
Hopefully rich, well off, comfortable – I’ll probably still be on the door. Still be in the gyms. It’s all a game but it’s brilliant – it earns respect as well. You get a lot of respect, especially if you’re on the right sort of door. Young blokes on the door are all so keen to bash everyone up, but really you don’t need to be like that.
That’s not my idea of things at all. My only reason to go to work is to earn some money, have a nice night and enjoy myself if at all possible. At the moment, I’m trying to break into something new – to do bodyguarding. I’m looking forward to that. To be honest, I don’t have to work the doors any more, financially I mean. I tried giving it up but I was bored. To be truthful, I like the buzz.
I got into door work unintentionally, like most people do. The first place I worked was Bermondsey, just south of the river in London. I cracked me knuckles every weekend! It was rough. That was my first experience with a shooter – someone stuck a gun up my nostril!
These Bermondsey lads came down to the club and said, ‘Let’s shoot the doorman!’ They came out with a .38. So I’ve got this gun to my head and the other doormen are at the top of the stairs and I thought, If they come down, I’m dead. For fuck’s sake, don’t come down those stairs. That was one occasion, another was I was standing in the Old Kent Road, when suddenly a red Ford Escort turns up and they shoot and I hit the ground very hard.
That’s life on the door. You need to know who’s who and what’s what. I didn’t when I first came to London. But I do now.
ANY REGRETS?
No. None at all. Whatever’s happened has all been part and parcel of life.