Was Leroy Lita with 24 the season before Scotty Murray had 19 not too shabby for a winger. Prior to that we have to go back to Bob Taylor which says more about our lack of scouting for strikers than anything I could say.
What did Shut, Thorpe or Akinbye score they came after super Bob. I would of loved to let these young un's see super bobby Taylor, top player for us and top man. Sent my son a christening card personally from him and his wife along with a few birthday cards after that.
19 18 19 in the league apparently mind you that info came from the Scum newspaper site so I suppose it should be regarded with suspicion
Akinbiyi was only with us one season wasn't he, scored 21 goals according to Wiki, but my memory is shot I'm sure Shutt scored more than 10 goals for us.
I was trolling the web pages and came across one from the sun a couple of years back giving the league scorers for Bristol City perhaps Adi scored a couple in the cup or perhaps the Sun as usual got it wrong I only wrote down the ones around 20 so its not that easy to check accuracy I'll look for another site tomorrow to try and check them Shutt was credited with 19, Thorpe 18 and Adi 19 in the league.
John Galley and Big John were both gentlemen as well come to that Chris Garland was also of that ilk along with the Cheese and Tom Ritchie a lot of our older strikers seem to have been gentlemen in the best sense of the word as well as being top players.
Chris Garland owned I think it was called the moon and sixpence in Stockwood where me mum worked , unless she's lying to me
The life of a Bristol City legend Trusted article source icon Saturday, November 15, 2008 Profile image for This is Bristol This is Bristol Follow An uncontrollable tremor runs almost constantly through Chris Garland's arms. The effects of Parkinson's disease – which has been part of his life for longer than the duration of his professional footballing career – are all too visible. However, Chris is reaching out his shaking arm to show something else. On the palm of his right hand, there is a very faint scar. ​ • • "That needed four or five stitches," he remarks with a rueful smile. "I was trying to see over the wall at Ashton Gate as a schoolboy, and put my hand on some broken glass on the top. "Me and my mates were fanatical about football and Bristol City Football Club. We'd go there just about every day on our way home from school, hoping to see the players training or to get their autographs." Main image for myprint-247 Business Cards From Only £10.95 Delivered www.myprint-247.co.uk myprint-247 View details Print voucher Back then, Chris was just another football crazy lad at South Street Primary School in Bedminster. But within a few years, he had no need to scramble up the perimeter wall at Ashton Gate. His goal-scoring talent resulted in him being able to walk into the stadium as an apprentice, after being taken on by Bristol City in 1964. Chris had achieved his first dream, and went on to accomplish many more. He signed a professional contract with Bristol City at the age of 17 and, during his time at the club, played for England Under-23s. In 1971, he left City – then in the old Second Division – to join First Division club Chelsea, and in 1974 moved to Leicester City. In the meantime, he married his childhood sweetheart, Trish, and had two sons and a daughter. Then, in 1976, the footballer who as a schoolboy gashed his hand trying to see into Ashton Gate appeared to have achieved his ultimate dream – returning to his boyhood club, to play for the team in the First Division. Yet, as his aptly named autobiography A Life Of Two Halves reveals, the charismatic blond-haired striker then saw his dreams turn to dust. He became one of the Ashton Gate Eight in 1982, when Bristol City was saved from bankruptcy after eight players on lucrative long-term contracts with the club agreed to leave without payment. After he retired from football, Chris tried to run a fruit and veg business, but it failed. Next, he had a wine company that went bankrupt. He was made redundant from a job in insurance, and became increasingly obsessed with gambling. Then, 19 years ago, came the cruellest blow of all. After suffering problems with shaking hands and slurred speech, he was diagnosed with the degenerative brain condition Parkinson's disease. He later split up with his wife, after 25 years of marriage. So when I arrive to interview 59-year-old Chris at his semi-detached home on the leafy western side of Newport, Gwent, I'm not sure what to expect. Maybe someone who spends his time living in the past, looking back on his glory days? Or a person consumed with self-pity because his once perfect body can no longer respond to his bidding? In fact, the man who comes to the front door of the white-painted house is broad shouldered and smiling, with a Jack Russell puppy tucked under one arm. Chris radiates enthusiasm and good humour, laughing self-deprecatingly about his shaking arms, his slurred speech and his poor memory. "I drive Ruth mad sometimes. She tells me to stop mumbling!" he says. Ruth is Chris's second wife. She is out at work when Chris gives his interview, but her presence is all around – not just in the bright, modern style of the house, but in the way Chris seems to light up as he talks about her. The reason Chris is living in Newport is because Ruth is Welsh. In his book, he describes her as "my saviour". Certainly, to use another footballing analogy, his life seems to have gone into extra time since he met her. She has not only helped him cope with having Parkinson's – for which he underwent brain surgery two years ago – but has also helped him deal with his gambling, which led to him being declared bankrupt again. "When Ruth found out, it really was the best thing that ever happened to me," says Chris, who believes his gambling problems may have been exacerbated by a drug he was taking for Parkinson's, which has since been discovered to cause compulsive behaviour. "She sat me down, and we went through all my debts, and cut up all my credit cards. At first, Ruth tried to pay it off for me, but it was impossible. I'd run up so many debts on so many cards as I'd been spending about £400 a day on betting, so bankruptcy was the only option." Chris's present financial situation is a world away from the lucrative days of his footballing career. But he insists: "I'm more contented now than I've ever been. Before, I was always wondering about the next race meeting. But those days are gone, and I'm glad they have." Chris laughs when I remark he must have been Bristol's answer to David Beckham in the Seventies, and laughs again when I say my husband remembers collecting him on bubble gum cards of footballers. There's even an old bubble gum card of Chris on the mantelpiece, showing him in his Bristol City strip. As I look at it, he declares: "I reckon it must have been six Chris Garland cards for one Bobby Moore! Or maybe it was 60!" However, Chris becomes serious when we discuss the low times in his life revealed in the book, including how he became homeless after the break-up of his first marriage, and ended up sleeping under Weston- super-Mare pier. "My kids don't know about that," he says. His voice is wavering, and I don't think it is because of the Parkinson's disease. "It'll upset them when they read it, but I had to write the truth. I think the reason why I'm so much more relaxed now is that I'm not having to lie any more. I'm not having to try to cover up my gambling, and I'm not having to pretend to be anything I'm not. I can just be myself." Chris appears to feel no bitterness about the cruel irony that his Parkinson's disease may have been triggered by the beautiful game that has dominated his life. "My doctor at the Bristol Royal Infirmary believes it may have been caused by heading footballs," he explains. "At Chelsea we always ended a training session by doing 100 sit-ups and headers. It would be sit up, head the ball ... sit up, head the ball ... until you reached 100. In those days, footballs were heavy leather, and when the ball got wet it was like heading a medicine ball." Yet Chris insists he has no regrets. "I'd go through it all again, even if someone told me I was taking a risk," he says. "Football means more than that when you're young. If you let things like risks get to you, then you'll never fulfil your dreams." Chris certainly succeeded in realising the dreams he had as that schoolboy who cut open his hand trying to see into the Ashton Gate stadium. But perhaps the fact that he has finally found contentment, is his greatest achievement of all. Read more: http://www.thisisbristol.co.uk/life...tory-11267519-detail/story.html#ixzz2YfwAaLTF Follow us: @thisisbristol on Twitter | thisisbristol on Facebook Can't find anything about a pub though he may have managed one cos I'm sure I went to one where he was mine Host
I first met Chris when he was about 12 or 13 probably at a City away match. He nicknamed me "Moaner" because of my constant criticism of City on a train going to Plymouth. I think it was FA Cup third round and we won 1-0. One of City's all time greats, not because he was among the best players ever to pull on the red shirt, but because he never gave the Club, team or supporters anything less than 110%. My best wishes to him and his family and a big thank you Chris for the joy you gave your fellow City fans.
