Bouncers and Bodyguards (14 page)

I let those who wanted to leave go and pulled a woman off the ground who had been knocked over in the crowds – she was a little shaken but nothing was broken. Out of breath but all in one piece, I managed to bolt the doors. The sound of smashing glass was deafening. The aftermath? Well, it was like a bomb had hit the place. The manager was just pleased that no one was hurt. Mick chose the right day to be off!

Sea nightclub is situated on Newcastle’s flourishing quayside and is a very sophisticated establishment, where ordinary Joe Public can mingle with the stars of the moment from sport, stage and screen – you name them and they will have been to Sea. I got the job working there through Alan Scott and Graham Hancock and was given six nights a week, Sunday being my night of rest! I was also working at Chase on a Friday and a Saturday with Richard, Andy, Hezzy and Julie. There was never any real trouble at either of these places, which made them a lot harder to work. Why? Because you can easily slip into a routine and, if you’re not careful, lose concentration, which can be fatal in this line of work. That is why I must admit I preferred the hustle and bustle and time-bomb atmosphere of the Bigg Market than the serenity of the quayside.

The people on the quayside were pretentious and most were pretending to be something they weren’t. A lot of them worked in clothes shops and as a result had all the latest gear, which made them look as if they were in the money. They would buy a bottle of champagne between six or so of them and make it last all night, whilst looking down their noses at those lesser mortals who could only afford a bottled lager! Wankers. However, I made some good mates at Sea – Wayne Keepin, Wayne Pinkerton, Ian Young – and we had a lot of laughs.

Some people have no consideration when it comes to parking their cars, and that was the case when we arrived at Sea one evening to find that some plonker had parked his vehicle in front of the doors of the club. We tried every possible way to contact the owner, but to no avail, so there was only one thing for it. Four of us surrounded the Vauxhall Vectra and, in our own Geoff Capes style, lifted it out of the way of the doors. You could tell we weren’t used to that sort of thing, and the car was left with a few bumps and scratches that it hadn’t had an hour or so before. We denied all knowledge when the owner returned and drove away with the car’s bumper trailing along the ground.

One night during our first Christmas at Sea saw a heavy fall of good snowball snow. It was a quiet evening, so we started throwing the odd snowball at a few of the friendlier customers leaving the venue. A couple of brave ones threw some back at us. As the night progressed, customers started to get braver and began to team up. By closing time, we had a full-scale war on our hands, with about eight doormen against twenty punters. With the odds heavily against us, I nipped inside and got the glass collectors to fill up the big bin that they collected the bottles in with ice and water. The punters were just under the swing bridge, so I got the glass collectors to sneak around the back of the club and up onto the bridge with the bin. We then stood back and laughed as the enemy got a bloody good soaking!

Christmas is supposed to be the season of kindness and goodwill. Humbug! Sometimes we do have a good laugh, but the ‘once a year drinkers’ cause mayhem for a solid fortnight, and, boy, have I had them all: work colleagues who have discovered that they are shagging the same bird – except one of them is married to her; brothers who have fallen out over the same woman; a reveller who grabbed a woman’s arse only to receive a right hook from her boyfriend who regularly sparred with Mike Tyson in his spare time. Ding dong merrily on high! I’ve lost count of how many girls I have seen spewing through their fingers, only to be necking on their latest victim ten minutes later. So remember lads: the next time some lass is dangling mistletoe over your Santa hat, check for carrots.

On a more serious note, the quayside sadly attracted a lot of jumpers, and that’s not because it was cold. I mean suicide jumpers. It wasn’t uncommon to have more than one a shift. The Tyne Bridge was a favourite, as it was the most well known. For many of these people, it was a desperate cry for help; for others, it was how they wanted to end it all. The worst I witnessed was outside Chase when a man jumped and hit the pavement – not a pretty sight. Another man attempted to jump on three separate occasions on the same day. After the third attempt, the police had him sectioned.

Drunken exploits could also lead to disaster down by the water. Students would often dare their mates to hang from the fence above the water. Most of them completed the stunt without harm, but the odd one wouldn’t be as lucky and fall in. One night, Alan Scott and I were on the front door when we were alerted by a passer-by that someone was in the water. Alan ran to the fence and looked over. It was dark, and he had to guess where the person was. He threw the ring over, and the young lad managed to grab it and hold on. I called an ambulance and the police, who arrived a few minutes later. Alan had saved the lad’s life, yet there was nothing in the papers, no recommendation from the police, not even a thank you from the lad. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t do the job for a pat on the back, but if Alan had been arrested for something, it would have made front-page news because he was a doorman!

With Sea being a relatively new club, we were visited by a lot of big names. The stars and celebrities arrived thick and fast. Graham Hancock knew that I had looked after a few people whilst I was living in London, so he designated me, along with a couple of other lads, to look after any VIPs who visited the club. Looking after the stars is the easy bit – keeping the public at bay is what really tests your patience.

With Robbie Williams, we weren’t really sure whether he would be turning up at all, so the whole club was opened just in case. Then he arrived out of the blue with about 30 people in tow. We were told to go and ask ordinary punters who had settled in the VIP lounge to leave their seats and make room for Robbie and his entourage. Needless to say, there were a lot of people with their noses put out of joint that night. ‘Why should we move for him?’ ‘Has he paid to get in?’ ‘Will
he
be here next week?’ I agreed with them, but I was just doing what I was told.

Once the area was cleared, Robbie appeared, and the drinks started to flow. Bottle after bottle of the finest champagne was downed, and more and more people flocked upstairs to get a look at their idol. He was a lot smaller than I imagined and was madly jumping about all over the place – if he had been anyone else, he would have definitely been chucked out onto the streets. A lot of girls were trying to get past me to get to Robbie, some even offering their ‘services’ if I would just let them through. Not a chance. Even people who should have known better said that they would report me to the owner if I didn’t let them pass. I couldn’t understand why someone would want to embarrass themselves like that.

Just as we had things under control, Robbie jumped up and started to sing his number-one hit ‘Angels’. Well, the place went mental as his fans sang back to him. I wasn’t impressed and was just glad that I wasn’t in his personal security team, because they really had their work cut out. The next day’s paper reported that Robbie had bought everyone in the club a drink – although I didn’t get one – and there was talk of an alleged £3,000 bar bill left outstanding. That’s rock and roll for you.

Pop band Steps caused the same kind of mayhem. They didn’t have as many followers as Mr Williams, but their security asked us to make sure that no one took any photos of them. Talk about mission impossible. The usual faces tried to gatecrash the VIP section, without any success. The owner of the club had taken to switching his phone off when a VIP arrived, so it was no use those wankers phoning him either. As the flashes went off, the band’s security started to argue with the punters – some arguments became quite heated. One couple wanted a photo for their kids – the band had said yes but their security no. The couple started to hurl abuse at the minders, who then expected me to throw them out. In my opinion, the minders had caused the problem, so they could deal with it, and we ignored their requests to throw people out. Just to round off my terrible night, I was half expecting the band to burst into song, but thankfully that never happened.

One star I wouldn’t have minded singing was Marti Pellow, former lead singer with Wet Wet Wet, as I always enjoyed their music. When he visited us, he was very low key – no minders, no entourage, just him. He was a really nice fella and not at all stage struck. I wish more stars were like him.

The Newcastle United team also became regular visitors to the club, and over time I reacquainted myself with the likes of Shay Given, Alan Shearer, Rob Lee, Warren Barton, Stephen Glass and Kevin Gallagher. I used to enjoy the
craic
about results and games – past and present – with the lads and would always share a drink or two with them when they came into the venue.

Things were going well. I was still with my girl Dawn, and life was good, but something had to give. Although I got my work on the quayside through Alan and Graham, I was actually still contracted to a security company. I had been warned about the bloke I was working for and did listen but decided to try and stick it out. I lasted just over two years until I fell out with him over holiday arrangements. I left with my reputation intact and my head held high and had Dawn to thank for keeping me going when at one point I was going to throw in the towel. He had tried to blacken my name with other door firms, but he hadn’t banked on me having so much support in the town. I have since heard that he has upset a lot of other people and lost a lot of good doormen.

I eventually decided to take a bit of time off and spend some quality time with my girlfriend as well as seeing some of the lads, and it was like a new lease of life for me. It was strange not having to put on my stab-vest every weekend. I wasn’t looking for work when Alan Scott called me up out of the blue to ask if I fancied a job back on my old stomping ground. He was leaving The Groat House to take over the door at a new club that was opening called Sugar. I appreciated the call and went to see him that night. After meeting the lads – Billy, Jason, George and Freddie – and the manageress Alyson, I dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s and was back where it all had started: the Bigg Market. It was a different cup of tea to the quay – full of locals and youngsters trying to look older, and the music was a mixture of cheesy chart tunes and the latest banging dance tracks, which was right up my street.

It was a doddle. We had a scrap there every other night – usually girls fighting each other or causing a fight between their ex-boyfriends – but it was an easy number. Alan offered me a couple of shifts, but I didn’t want to go back to all work and no play, so I just took on a Thursday night for the time being.

Sugar had opened as a gay club but had flopped, so they recruited promoter Alex Lowes to pack the place out. His reputation for promoting events such as the Southport Weekender and To the Manor Born in Sedgefield meant that he duly obliged. In the first couple of weeks, I was on ‘star watch’ again, as Brian and Narinder, stars from the Channel Four show
Big Brother
, visited, and Olympic boxing gold medal winner Audley Harrison arrived with his family after winning his second pro-fight in Newcastle. Sugar was going to be a winner, and I was happy to be a part of it.

However, I only stayed at Sugar for a few months, as I soon got bored. I got an offer to move back to Chase on the quayside, but this time as head doorman, and I jumped at the chance. I had a great set of lads working with me there – Peter Lucy, Shaun Charlton, Mick Bradwell, Les Jackson, Freddie Suadwa, Stu the Charva – and a great gaffer in Ronnie Pagan. Life had never been so good. We had some ups and downs, but I loved them all. I was there for five years in total, but all good things eventually come to an end, and I moved on with my security boss Geoff Oughton to help out at Sam Jacks and Bar 55. I stayed there for eight months before ending up at Tiger Tiger with my old mates Buzz and Wrighty, who I started with at Masters all those years before.

I still love what I do. I wouldn’t do it otherwise. I met my wife Dawn doing the job I love. As for working the doors now – as opposed to the way it was back when I started in the ’90s – well, I think the SIA have a lot to answer for. We lost a lot of good doormen because of their licensing scheme, and many good lads have been replaced by mere kids who just can’t do the job.

If I could give anybody any advice going into this line of work, it would be: don’t take liberties and what goes around comes around. You have to earn respect. Respect does not lie in your fists. The job is so different now, but violence is still there every night you put on your Crombie and straighten your tie. You never know what’s in store. For me, that was part of the enjoyment!

Steve Wraith is now 35, lives on Tyneside and is an actor and writer. Steve’s television credits include
55 Degrees North
,
Wire in the Blood
and
Byker Grove
, and his film credits include
Goal
.

His website, The Geordie Connection, was launched in 1998 to promote a manuscript entitled
The Krays – The Geordie Connection
written by Steve Wraith and Stuart Wheatman. The intention was for this site to help attract a publisher and then close down. However, after obtaining a publishing deal with Zymurgy Publishing, the book was a huge success, and the site became an important advertising tool. The decision was taken to keep the site up and running, and this led to a video and DVD deal with
www.gangstervideos.co.uk
.
The Krays – The Geordie Connection
documentary was released a year after the book and has proved to be just as successful. The site has also proved to be a useful starting point for those with an interest in the Kray family, and Steve has endeavoured to update the various sections over the years as well as answer any questions that visitors have.