RIP The Bear

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Blond Bombshell

Blond Bombshell

Well-Known Member
Sep 30, 2019
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Just read otr sad news, passed away on holiday...

Skunt hater said RIP Allan Bryant ( The Bear) stood together many a time a true Legend was Allan would never ever let you down, we had our ups and downs but always stood together when it mattered, you will be a big miss my mate RIP

RIP The Bear.
 
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Blond Bombshell said:
Just read otr sad news, passed away on holiday...

Skunt hater said RIP Allan Bryant ( The Bear) stood together many a time a true Legend was Allan would never ever let you down, we had our ups and downs but always stood together when it mattered, you will be a big miss my mate RIP

RIP The Bear.
Click to expand...

Yeah, had a message last night and had been expecting it.

I remember coming out of Spurs, after a night match, to be met by twice our numbers and the police walked away.

He told us all to stick together and shouted across the road to Spurs ...

... he wasn't in the mood for a chit chat and they stayed on their side while we all walked away <laugh>

Another one bites the dust ... RIP mate.
 
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Smug in Boots said:
Yeah, had a message last night and had been expecting it.

I remember coming out of Spurs, after a night mate, to be met by twice our numbers and the police walked away.

He told us all to stick together and shouted across the road to Spurs ...

... he wasn't in the mood for a chit chat and they stayed on their side while we all walked away <laugh>

Another one bites the dust ... RIP mate.
Click to expand...
Thought you would know him, he was a big fella and lived up to the reputation of massive lads fan. I worked with him on my works experience in Tesco Sunderland, very friendly loud lad. Worked the buses and doors around town.

RIP Bear lad.
 
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LBW said:
RIP The Bear, used to think the stories were exaggerated until my Uncle enlightened me.
Click to expand...

Just had this message, from Dave Ashfield, who writes about the Bear in his Sunderland books ...

... I'll try to post the extracts when I've finished work.

Perhaps someone could kindly post the links on RTG.

Hi mate, just saw the posts about the Bear dying ...I tell the great story of first meeting him when he headed the Shot Put and next meeting him in the Upper Deck when he wanted to fill in me Maggie mate ..wondered if you could post this and the links to the books please?

https://amzn.eu/d/0emDsTLW

Tin Baths Hot Summers and Rock & Roll: When We Were Young https://amzn.eu/d/07gR0Uhz
 
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Smug in Boots said:
Just had this message, from Dave Ashfield, who writes about the Bear in his Sunderland books ...

... I'll try to post the extracts when I've finished work.

Perhaps someone could kindly post the links on RTG.

Hi mate, just saw the posts about the Bear dying ...I tell the great story of first meeting him when he headed the Shot Put and next meeting him in the Upper Deck when he wanted to fill in me Maggie mate ..wondered if you could post this and the links to the books please?

https://amzn.eu/d/0emDsTLW

Tin Baths Hot Summers and Rock & Roll: When We Were Young https://amzn.eu/d/07gR0Uhz
Click to expand...
Not meaning to be inconsiderate but anyone with a nickname "The Bear" must have been quite a character, in my younger days he was pointed out to me or we heard the stories on the away buses but it always made me chuckle when people referred to The Bear, great days and sadly people like him are folklore now. Those days are long gone
 
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Nig said:
RIP Allan.
Click to expand...

Just received this from Dave Ashfield, there's a good Bear story ...

... if Wakey hasn't posted it would you mind sticking it on, cheers.

THE BOOK AND THE BEAR
[email protected]

TIN BATHS HOT SUMMERS AND ROCK N ROLL
CHAPTER ELEVEN,
BONFIRE NIGHT AND GANGS

"I was only saved from the joys Christmas in A &E because one of assailants recognised me from playing football with him. And football helped in similar circumstances not long after.
I had gone with a lad from Shiney called Eddie Emms to Sunderland town centre for a few beers and hopefully to track down some female company. I was well under eighteen, Eddie 2 years older. Eddie was skin head and was wearing his Sta Press trousers, Ben Sherman, brown brogues and a Harrington jacket. What I didn’t notice was that he was also wearing a small Newcastle United football badge in his Harrington collar. This was to prove a little problematical as we shall see.

We ended up after a couple in The Bee Hive and Borough pubs around Park Lane bus station and then in the pub called The Upper Deck. There were the usual lads standing around drinking and looking for bother, most skin heads of some sort. I needed to go to the toilet so I went, leaving Eddie trying to encourage two young girls with very short miniskirts to share our stimulating company. I was zipping up when this very large shaven headed lad came in and closed the door and stared at me aggressively and asked what two Mags (Newcastle supporters) were doing in his town. I thought, here we go again, another night of joy and lost teeth. What I quickly thought was why he thought we were Newcastle United supporters. Rather than try to get the first blow in, which experience had taught me was often the only course left to you in these circumstances, I thought the better part of valour was to maybe talk my way out of this and asked him aggressively, why did he think that? He mentioned the badge on Eddie’s Harrington.

Now I knew Eddie was indeed a Magpie but I had never thought he’d be stupid enough to wear a badge on a Saturday night in Sunderland. This is going to take some talking our way out of, the stupid bastard I thought. Maybe the good Lord took some pity on me or maybe I am just a lucky bugger but this huge hulk of a lad looked at me and I noticed puzzlement came over his face. He stared me out for a while then he asked a question. “I’ve met yeah before haven’t I, a couple of weeks ago in Durham? At the Athletics wasn’t it?”

I looked at his large ginger shaved head and staring eyes and I too remembered the moment we had met. It was difficult to forget and I’ve never seen anyone do what this mad man did then or ever again. I was throwing the javelin and discus at Durham Athletics Schools championship and was standing with my fellow team mate, shot putter, Paul Stangrome, from Fatfield, a very large fit boy who played centre half with me in Chester Boys football team. Up walked a similar girth- sized but squatter boy than Paul with a ginger shaven head and he picked up a shot put with one hand and came right up to Paul and stared up at him in the face threateningly. He and Paul stared at each other for a few seconds and the other lad stepped back and then threw the shot put into the air. As it followed Newton’s law of gravity and started to fall to earth, he launched his huge neck forward and he head butted the 7.2 kg or 16 lbs. steel ball. The ball following Newton’s first law of motion and with much more inertia than a human skull continued falling to make a large dint in the muddy earth not deviating from its normal path. The boy’s head understandably stopped dead where it had impacted the ball with a dull cracking sound of bone crunching. The skinhead glared at Paul with no look of pain or fear in his face and twisted his mouth and spoke his first words.

“I’m from Sun’lund and I’m hard and I’m gonna win this shot put: **** yeah.”

He walked away swaggering, from arrogance, madness or brain damage I never could tell. He did win too! I think Paul had decided that football was safer. I was pleased he didn’t compete in my events and throw either discus or javelin.

And now here he was again: in the Upper Deck toilets about to throw his shot-put honed head-butt at my new shining teeth. I looked at him aggressively, trying not to look worried and said: “Aye I remember you now. You were the shot-put champion.” And hoping a bit of flattery might help, I continued with: “You did great to win that marra, a massive hoy.”

He looked pleased, maybe it’s worked I thought. He grunted. “Beat that big mate of yours didn’t I. So, are you a Sun’lund lad then?

“Aye,” I confirmed hoping this would end well.

‘‘Ah weel, that’s alreet then, just tak your mag mate out and tell him he’s lucky we’re not gonna knack him. I’m called The Bear. Everybody kna’s me in the town. Mention my name and yeah’ll be alreet.”

I have often wondered if heading shot putts left him with some form of altruistic, forgiving centre in the limbic system of his brain as he certainly had shown me some that night.

Always there was trouble at the Chinese takeaway, which was a nuisance, because their food was so new and different. I would have enjoyed it more if you didn’t have to fight the cast of ‘Greenstreet Hooligans’ every bloody night. But when we did get it home it was magic and I move on to food again and its wonders."

Regards, David.
Dr. David Ashfield
07739498820
 
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Smug in Boots said:
Just received this from Dave Ashfield, there's a good Bear story ...

... if Wakey hasn't posted it would you mind sticking it on, cheers.

THE BOOK AND THE BEAR
[email protected]

TIN BATHS HOT SUMMERS AND ROCK N ROLL
CHAPTER ELEVEN,
BONFIRE NIGHT AND GANGS

"I was only saved from the joys Christmas in A &E because one of assailants recognised me from playing football with him. And football helped in similar circumstances not long after.
I had gone with a lad from Shiney called Eddie Emms to Sunderland town centre for a few beers and hopefully to track down some female company. I was well under eighteen, Eddie 2 years older. Eddie was skin head and was wearing his Sta Press trousers, Ben Sherman, brown brogues and a Harrington jacket. What I didn’t notice was that he was also wearing a small Newcastle United football badge in his Harrington collar. This was to prove a little problematical as we shall see.

We ended up after a couple in The Bee Hive and Borough pubs around Park Lane bus station and then in the pub called The Upper Deck. There were the usual lads standing around drinking and looking for bother, most skin heads of some sort. I needed to go to the toilet so I went, leaving Eddie trying to encourage two young girls with very short miniskirts to share our stimulating company. I was zipping up when this very large shaven headed lad came in and closed the door and stared at me aggressively and asked what two Mags (Newcastle supporters) were doing in his town. I thought, here we go again, another night of joy and lost teeth. What I quickly thought was why he thought we were Newcastle United supporters. Rather than try to get the first blow in, which experience had taught me was often the only course left to you in these circumstances, I thought the better part of valour was to maybe talk my way out of this and asked him aggressively, why did he think that? He mentioned the badge on Eddie’s Harrington.

Now I knew Eddie was indeed a Magpie but I had never thought he’d be stupid enough to wear a badge on a Saturday night in Sunderland. This is going to take some talking our way out of, the stupid bastard I thought. Maybe the good Lord took some pity on me or maybe I am just a lucky bugger but this huge hulk of a lad looked at me and I noticed puzzlement came over his face. He stared me out for a while then he asked a question. “I’ve met yeah before haven’t I, a couple of weeks ago in Durham? At the Athletics wasn’t it?”

I looked at his large ginger shaved head and staring eyes and I too remembered the moment we had met. It was difficult to forget and I’ve never seen anyone do what this mad man did then or ever again. I was throwing the javelin and discus at Durham Athletics Schools championship and was standing with my fellow team mate, shot putter, Paul Stangrome, from Fatfield, a very large fit boy who played centre half with me in Chester Boys football team. Up walked a similar girth- sized but squatter boy than Paul with a ginger shaven head and he picked up a shot put with one hand and came right up to Paul and stared up at him in the face threateningly. He and Paul stared at each other for a few seconds and the other lad stepped back and then threw the shot put into the air. As it followed Newton’s law of gravity and started to fall to earth, he launched his huge neck forward and he head butted the 7.2 kg or 16 lbs. steel ball. The ball following Newton’s first law of motion and with much more inertia than a human skull continued falling to make a large dint in the muddy earth not deviating from its normal path. The boy’s head understandably stopped dead where it had impacted the ball with a dull cracking sound of bone crunching. The skinhead glared at Paul with no look of pain or fear in his face and twisted his mouth and spoke his first words.

“I’m from Sun’lund and I’m hard and I’m gonna win this shot put: **** yeah.”

He walked away swaggering, from arrogance, madness or brain damage I never could tell. He did win too! I think Paul had decided that football was safer. I was pleased he didn’t compete in my events and throw either discus or javelin.

And now here he was again: in the Upper Deck toilets about to throw his shot-put honed head-butt at my new shining teeth. I looked at him aggressively, trying not to look worried and said: “Aye I remember you now. You were the shot-put champion.” And hoping a bit of flattery might help, I continued with: “You did great to win that marra, a massive hoy.”

He looked pleased, maybe it’s worked I thought. He grunted. “Beat that big mate of yours didn’t I. So, are you a Sun’lund lad then?

“Aye,” I confirmed hoping this would end well.

‘‘Ah weel, that’s alreet then, just tak your mag mate out and tell him he’s lucky we’re not gonna knack him. I’m called The Bear. Everybody kna’s me in the town. Mention my name and yeah’ll be alreet.”

I have often wondered if heading shot putts left him with some form of altruistic, forgiving centre in the limbic system of his brain as he certainly had shown me some that night.

Always there was trouble at the Chinese takeaway, which was a nuisance, because their food was so new and different. I would have enjoyed it more if you didn’t have to fight the cast of ‘Greenstreet Hooligans’ every bloody night. But when we did get it home it was magic and I move on to food again and its wonders."

Regards, David.
Dr. David Ashfield
07739498820
Click to expand...


I tried to copy and paste it earlier mate. But a bit worse for wear from booze and sun. And using me phone.
So kept copying the whole thread FFS.
I'll try again tomorrow.
 
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