
Originally Posted by
Pontprennau Bluebird
My recollection portrays such affairs in a less romantic light. In the long dark of streets of Splott (where I grew up) there was a distinct hierarchy to the bullying. I was somewhere near the bottom of this pile.
Does anyone remember Terence Wheeler who ran onto the pitch to celebrate with Tony Villars in a relegation battle with Palace? In later years he offered to fight both me and my mate for smiling at the wrong girl in a city cente nite club. We declined.
By the time I reached High School in Tremorfa in the 70s, my elder sister had put down some ground rules. Her association with some of the harder guys bought me some respite.
Is adolescence still like this I wonder?