Gerry Gow

[Curr Avon]

aka: You'll Never Win Bacall (http://edition.cnn.com/2014/08/12/showbiz/lauren-bacall-memorable-quotes/index.html)

Bristol City versus Manchester City reminded me of a 2009 column by the wonderful David Foot that entwined our legendary midfielder with a star of star of Hollywood's Golden Age.

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/blog/2009/jan/20/david-foot-sport-blog

When the Bacall of duty was a double delight

The curious tale of a Bristol City legend, Hollywood royalty and a fish supper

 

David Foot

Tuesday 20 January 2009

---

Sportsmen have always tended to hunt and excel in pairs. Whatever their individual talents, we remember them especially in duplicate. It was Larwood and Voce, Hobbs and Sutcliffe, Trueman and Statham, Thomson and Lillee.

But Gow and Bacall? Er, that needs a little explanation. This, I suppose, is where pairings veer from the more obvious. We accept that fast bowlers, predacious by nature, like to prowl in twosome pursuit of a kill. Opening batsmen, attuned to each other's whims and insecurities, benefit from the unspoken assurances from a familiar mate down the track. It isn't just cricket, of course. Rugby has its muscled and menacing props who not only go round together but look, with their scowls and shaven heads, uncannily alike.

In my more youthful and active journalistic days I worked best with conflicting simultaneous briefs. These involved theatre and sport. The only complication was the logistical one when I had to make the challenging choice between Gielgud declaiming or Charlie George screaming for the ball.

Last week I came across a torn and faded newspaper cutting of an eventful meeting I had in February 1979. It was with Lauren Bacall so, sentimentally at least, it was worth keeping. She was in this country to publicise her autobiography and was in a bad mood. She didn't much like journalists and, no doubt because she had left her make-up case behind in London, she was less than welcoming to half a dozen photographers and TV cameramen who had also turned up at the bookshop in Bristol.

As I arrived, weary from lugging a heavy Uher radio tape-recorder up a long hill, she was leaving. It was an unscheduled early exit. The engine of her swish limo was already purring and her step on to the pavement was as purposeful as that of any Ashton Gate striker. For one impecunious freelance, her face of thunder spelled financial disaster and panic. My presumptuous intentions counted for nothing.

If this sounds like shameless name-dropping I apologise. But I shall eventually get to the point of this Friday-morning episode involving the style, ageless allure and histrionic range of the actress who once melted Bogart enough to become his wife. It was no time now for rerunning scenes from Key Largo or The Big Sleep, which I had studiously researched in preparation. Instead, for one of the few times in a diverse professional life, I let my instincts take over. I jumped in beside the driver and as if wholly dispassionate about what was happening, I directed him to a small fish restaurant a mile away. My instructions had come out with affected authority. In the back of the limo, La Bacall was spluttering her protests; a young PR woman, equally puzzled, was doing her best to placate her.

There is not a word of exaggeration in this account. The driver clearly thought I was part of the retinue. He pulled up at the restaurant and Bacall, flustered and still confused, followed us in. She rejected and then accepted a double gin, and I ordered a Dover sole for her. Blissfully, her rant at the expense of the Fourth Estate gradually subsided. Perhaps she really was, after all, "this nice Jewish girl who had been plucked for stardom", as the book blurb told us. I got my lengthy, cooperative radio interview and enough anecdotes for a newspaper piece next morning.

By then we were on more confidential terms. "The trouble is I've got so many things on my mind – like driving back to London and catching my plane at Heathrow," she said. "I know the feeling," I replied with intimate candour. "I have to see Gerry Gow, you know. Yes, another interview." I might as well have said Stanislavsky by the silence my words created

The revelation made no apparent impact. She must surely have heard of Gerry. Everyone in the West Country had. But I let it pass. He was now top of my agenda, this tousle-haired Glaswegian veteran of 300-plus games for Bristol City, who most Saturdays left scarlet stud marks as a ritualistic parting present to his opponents. He didn't believe in fannying about in midfield. He instilled fear: plenty of raw drama there. It is unlikely Gow ever went to a Bristol Old Vic matinee on a free afternoon.

I've no idea whether Gow would be flattered to be bracketed with Bacall. Yet the two of them remain affectionately wedged, at least psychologically, in my memory. From that unconventional audience with Mrs Bogart I kept my appointment with Gerry who went on to oblige me with a goal against Ipswich the following day. I didn't keep a record of my article about him – though I don't fancy "To Have and Have Not" warranted even a passing mention.

 

[pongo88]

This is in the style of a jount The Right Honourable Les Q and NTTDS. What a combination!

[hoxton casual]

David Foot write a lot if good stuff about City in The Guardian. Is he still writing?

[PHILINFRANCE]

Another article about the late, great Gerry Gow.

Neil Redfearn was a callow youth making his professional debut at Millmoor and he was terrified.

The reason? Gerry Gow.

Redfearn, who would go on to play more than a 1,000 games in an illustrious career and eventually manage the Millers, was just a teenager when he made his bow for Bolton Wanderers. Facing him in Rotherham’s team that February 19 1983 day in the old English Division Two (the equivalent of today’s Championship) was Gow who earlier today sadly lost his battle against lung cancer at the age of 64.

Gow was a cult figure with the Millers. And a genuine hardman. Redfearn recalled: “I was a 17-year-old at Millmoor. I think Emlyn Hughes was player-manager. Ronnie Moore played and Tony Towner. “I played against Gerry Gow in midfield. A baptism of fire? Just a bit! He said he was going to break my legs.

“I was only 17. I remember playing in midfield with Tony Henry and saying: ‘He says he’s going to break my legs.’ “Tony said: ‘Ah, take no notice of him. He doesn’t mean it.’”

Redfearn shudders as he remembers what happened next.

Gow sidled over to him and whispered in his young ear: “I ****ing mean it.”

Gow, a Scottish under-23 international, came to Rotherham after an 11-year spell of nearly 400 matches at Bristol City, where he became a Robins legend, and a stint at Manchester City. He was sent off minutes into his Millers home debut against Derby County but went on to play more than 60 games for the club between 1981 and 1983, scoring four goals, before ending his career with Burnley. He could look after himself and at times had an air of ‘crazy’ about him, yet the fear he spread in opposing teams wasn’t solely down to the unflinching physicality of his game. He could play, really play, and was a key man in the Rotherham side that won nine successive matches in the second tier, including eight in a memorable February, in 1982. Millers fans took the grizzled Glaswegian to their hearts. He cut a distinctive figure with his long, straggled hair and warrior moustache. That ‘tache didn’t just bristle with menace and intent. It was bristles of menace and intent.

 

[awbb]

Probably mentioned before but the great Half Man Half Biscuit mention the greater Gerry Gow in ‘This One’s For Now’.

Albeit only lamenting the fact he got 3 copies of him in a pack of stickers in ‘78 and how the newsagent who sold it to him was somewhat disinterested.

[swanker]

9 hours ago, pongo88 said:

This is in the style of a jount The Right Honourable Les Q and NTTDS. What a combination!

Whatever happened to Les. Used to enjoying reading his posts. 

[RumRed]

4 minutes ago, swanker said:

Whatever happened to Les. Used to enjoying reading his posts. 

Me too he certainly was ‘different gravy’.

[PHILINFRANCE]

2 hours ago, swanker said:

Whatever happened to Les. Used to enjoying reading his posts. 

Is he still banned, or perhaps still on here under a different name?

[swanker]

38 minutes ago, PHILINFRANCE said:

Is he still banned, or perhaps still on here under a different name?

Seem to remember him having the hump about the responses he got from other users. Came across as a decent chap and his posts were quite amusing. I suppose some people can take offence, personally i quite like a bit of banter and sarcasm.  

[Curr Avon]

14 hours ago, pongo88 said:

This is in the style of a jount The Right Honourable Les Q and NTTDS. What a combination!

I don't know about that. But I do know that Lauren Bacall uttered this immortal line: 

"You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say anything and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow."

 

[Merrick's Marvels]

14 hours ago, pongo88 said:

This is in the style of a jount The Right Honourable Les Q and NTTDS. What a combination!

 

5 hours ago, swanker said:

Whatever happened to Les. Used to enjoying reading his posts. 

 

5 hours ago, RumRed said:

Me too he certainly was ‘different gravy’.

 

3 hours ago, PHILINFRANCE said:

Is he still banned, or perhaps still on here under a different name?

Still posting here but uses another pseudonym.

[swanker]

What, a different pseudonym to fool them?