Amps I went to see Geoff Capes and a bunch of other nutters pull trucks around a running track when I was about 7.
My old nan, bless her, gave Capes a dressing down because he was signing autographs and when it came to my turn, he’d decided he’d had enough and sauntered off towards the changing rooms or whatever.
Imagine the scene: brick-shaped Irish granny marching up to him to give him a bollocking until he obliged and signed my programme.
