My first night on the door

Well at the time I was seeing a girl in Newcastle so was living in the area and thinking of staying if I could find work.  Back then most door companies were owned by slightly dodgy blokes shall we say and the girl I was seeings family was related (by marriage) to one of these guys, her dad had seen me in a scrap or two on a night out in the 'toon centre as its called or the big market for the locals and said I'd kept my cool and handled myself well so recommended I go speak to "big tony" as he was called.   I'm six foot and was about 13 stone (82kilos) at the time.  Now that's fairly sized and athletically built but back then size was everything and smaller doormen really had to prove themselves to the big boys.

Tony wasted no time in commenting on my weight or lack of it and said he hoped I could get stuck in to make up for it but with Dave saying I was ok he'd give me a go this Friday night.

Champion.

I really didn't know what to expect with my first shift I arrived and was told to back everyone up and they'd watch mine.  

Keep my mouth shut and do as I was told and they wouldn't tell me they'd shout it because we didn't have radios.

Not knowing any different I did as I was told for the first few hours then was left on my own watching part of the dance floor.  It was getting close to the end and the crowd was thinning out so I could see the other doormen easily when one suddenly rushed towards the front door, moments later the other guys started heading that way too so I followed suit thinking it best to keep with the team, I half jogged through the entrance corridor to the front reception area into the Wild West.  

I found out afterwards that the front door had been rushed by a group of men who'd been turned away and it had got nasty straight away which had led to the first doorman running straight there, that being the signal for everyone else to follow suit, guess they hadn't expected it, after all there's only so much you can learn in one night so they hadn't told me that.  The only thing I did know was I had to get involved somehow so I rushed forwards to help a doorman I could see wrestling with a guy in the street, the only thing was I hadn't checked around me first and went into the street blind, straight into a man swinging a baseball bat!   That's right folks back then in city centres people used to go out, tooled up as they call it, from what I hear in Liverpool it's Stanley knives so glad I've never worked there! 

As I charged forwards the bat came swinging and I went right into its path blocking it with my forearm, and head. 

I was knocked out for the count and incredibly lucky not to have been seriously injured not just by the bat but also for being unconscious in the middle of a fight!   My forearm had a massive bruise and I could hardly lift it and I had a cut right in the middle of my forehead which I still bear the scar from to this day, I had a tennis ball sized bruise there at the time, concussion and felt like shit to be honest I remember throwing up a few times later that night which only made my head hurt more!  

I was covered in blood as head wounds tend to bleed a lot and as one of the lads was helping me into an ambulance the guy who'd been wrestling in the street came over and shook my hand, I hadn't helped more than a distraction but I'd tried and that was good enough for him.

Old school means very little these days but the respect you win on the door can never be taken away from you and just trying to get stuck in and wanting to do it again was enough for them to accept me and start the long road of learning to be a doorman.