An Audience With Alan Hudson

By John Hellier

Alan Hudson truly was a players player, a fans player and an artist. A man with all the gifts! He was the quintessential cockney rebel and had style, charisma and flamboyance not only on the pitch but off the pitch as well. The original rebellious Kings Road kid burst onto the football scene at a time that London was truly swinging, and comparisons were obviously made with the irresistible Georgie Best, again both on the pitch and off. Indeed George once described him as 'the finest player of his generation.' If Best was the Beatles, Alan Hudson was the Rolling Stones! Alan Hudson's career was one long roller-coaster ride and was marked by clashes with the establishment and the authorities. His was a rags to riches and back again story, the highs saw him winning European trophies and playing for his country and the lows include a hit and run incident that put him in a coma for 59 days. Alan truly believes the 'accident' was actually an attempt on his life.

This publication contains Alan Hudson's expert account of pretty much everything connected to our national game and comes with VERY frank opinions of many players, managers and 'suits;' but it isn't just about football, it also includes Al's second love in life, music. There's tales of partying with rock n roll royalty and everything told with honesty in Al's unique style, he's a natural storyteller. What he has to say about some of the games leading lights is quite breathtaking, he certainly pulls no punches. The book is both insightful and humorous. A winning and very entertaining combination!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kaleidoscope
• Release date: Aug 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463575819

John Hellier

PUBLICATIONS: Original 60s mod around town, John was born in Romford, Essex and spent my formative years playing drums in various bands in and around East London but it was with Johns writing that he found his niche not only as editor of the worldwide respected Small Faces (and related) magazine Darlings Of Wapping Wharf Launderette, which goes out worldwide to 5000 readers, but also as a free-lance writer with major music monthlies such as Mojo, Uncut, Loaded and Record Collector. His work also appear on numerous CDs/DVDs for all the major record companies. The first Small Faces book was back in 1996 and was a collaboration with Terry Rawlings and Keith Badman called “Quite Naturally” but his biggest triumph in this field is the Steve Marriott biography “All Too Beautiful” co-written with Paolo Hewitt and published in 2004 by Helter Skelter books. A labour of love, 77 interviews and three years graft but something hes very proud of. A third edition of this highly acclaimed book will be available later this year. A third book co-written with friend Paul Weller entitled “Here Come The Nice” was published in late 2005 and spent many months in the Music book best sellers. Two more books recently released are the Ronnie Lane biography as well as a biography about original Who manager Pete Meadon.PROMOTIONS: On the Promotions side his biggest venture to date was the very successful, sell-out Ronnie Lane Memorial Concert at the prestigious Royal Albert Hall in London in April 2004. He promoted and compered the show in front of 5500 fans. The show, entitled “One For The Road” featured many of Rock and Rolls premier league and included amongst others Pete Townshend, Ronnie Wood, Paul Weller and Ocean Colour Scene. Other promotions include a sell-out show in 2001 at the London Astoria in memory of Steve Marriott, ex Small Face, who had died in a house fire some ten years earlier (to the day). This concert once again featured Rock’s finest including Noel Gallagher, Paul Weller, Peter Frampton, Small Faces Kenney and Mac, Midge Ure and many, many more.

Book preview

AN AUDIENCE WITH ALAN HUDSON..........

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COMPILED AND EDITED BY JOHN HELLIER

TABLE OF CONTENTS

A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR: JOHN HELLIER (May 2019)

AL’S INTRODUCTION

THE BELFAST BOY talks about THE KINGS ROAD KID

An audience with Alan Hudson: GROWING UP

An audience with Alan Hudson: BLUE IS THE COLOUR: CHELSEA TEAM-MATES

An audience with Alan Hudson: MOORO AND RAMSEY

An audience with Alan Hudson: FAMOUS FACES

An audience with Alan Hudson: STOKE CITY OR BUST

An audience with Alan Hudson: IT’S ALL ABOUT A ROUNDABOUT

An audience with Alan Hudson: IPSWICH F****** TOWN

An audience with Alan Hudson: WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG, DON?

An audience with Alan Hudson: HOW CAN YOU NOT PLAY FOR A MAN LIKE THIS?

An audience with Alan Hudson: PRE-MATCH RITUALS

An audience with Alan Hudson: OH! HOW I LOVED WHITE HART LANE

An audience with Alan Hudson: BIG BOSS MAN

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE REAL ‘SPECIAL ONE’

An audience with Alan Hudson: DIRECTOR OF A WORKING MAN’S BALLET

An audience with Alan Hudson: DON’T TRUST ANYBODY AND THAT INCLUDES ME!

An audience with Alan Hudson: A BROKEN LEG AND A GLASS OF BRANDY

An audience with Alan Hudson: HEARTBREAK HOTEL

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE ARSENAL CAR-CRASH!

An audience with Alan Hudson: RON GREENWOOD CALLS

An audience with Alan Hudson: UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS

An audience with Alan Hudson: GOODBYE LONDON HELLO SEATTLE

An audience with Alan Hudson: HOMEWARD BOUND: CHELSEA AND STOKE BECKON (AGAIN)

An audience with Alan Hudson: CONFIDENCE

An audience with Alan Hudson: SPONSORSHIP AND LAUGHS GO HAND IN HAND: IN OUR DAY THAT IS!

An audience with Alan Hudson: BANK ROBBERS, SUPERSTARS AND FOOTBALL GROUNDS

An audience with Alan Hudson: ROOM-MATES AND BEST BUDDIES

An audience with Alan Hudson: GUIDANCE

An audience with Alan Hudson: WHEN WILL FULHAM FIND THE NEXT JOHNNY HAYNES?

An audience with Alan Hudson: INJURIES AND GREATNESS GO HAND IN HAND

An audience with Alan Hudson: JASON KING, THE SEARCHERS AND DUSTY

An audience with Alan Hudson: NUMBER TENS

An audience with Alan Hudson: BLESS YOU, MR. THOMAS SMITH MBE

An audience with Alan Hudson: HOW THE WORM HAS TURNED

An audience with Alan Hudson: ELTON JOHN SONGS: A BOTTOMLESS PIT OF GOLD

An audience with Alan Hudson: FRANK WORTHINGTON: NUMBER ONE MAVERICK

An audience with Alan Hudson: HARRY REDKNAPP: KING OF THE JUNGLE

An audience with Alan Hudson: REBEL WITH A CAUSE

An audience with Alan Hudson: SUMMER OF ‘66 HEROES

An audience with Alan Hudson: MEXICO ‘70

An audience with Alan Hudson: THERE’S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS

An audience with Alan Hudson: A BRAZILIAN WAY OF LIFE

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE PROBLEM LIES AT THE VERY TOP

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE GREATEST MANAGER ENGLAND NEVER HAD

An audience with Alan Hudson: JOHAN CRUYFF: TOTAL FOOTBALL

An audience with Alan Hudson: BOBBY MOORE AND SON: RIP

An audience with Alan Hudson: A ONE ARMED STRIKER!

An audience with Alan Hudson: SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SLUMBER

An audience with Alan Hudson: DAD

An audience with Alan Hudson: DON’T LOOK BACK IN ANGER

An audience with Alan Hudson: A SAD (VERY SAD) STORY

An audience with Alan Hudson: FINE MARGINS

An audience with Alan Hudson: BANS IN ENGLISH FOOTBALL

An audience with Alan Hudson: SIR ADOLPH RAMSEY

An audience with Alan Hudson: SEPP BLATTER: KING JERK!

An audience with Alan Hudson: FRANK LAMPARD: A ROMFORD BOY MADE GOOD

An audience with Alan Hudson: THOSE WITH GOLDEN BALLS

An audience with Alan Hudson: IF ONLY

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE NEWS OF THE SCREWS

An audience with Alan Hudson: OSSIE AND HUTCH: ALIAS SMITH AND JONES

An audience with Alan Hudson: SPECIAL PLAYERS

An audience with Alan Hudson: IF MUSIC BE THE FOOD OF LOVE

An audience with Alan Hudson: SEND IN THE CLOWNS

An audience with Alan Hudson: RACIAL COBBLERS

An audience with Alan Hudson: HOW IRONIC

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE WORLD CUP: THEN AND NOW

An audience with Alan Hudson: A STORY ABOUT A STORY ABOUT A STORY

An audience with Alan Hudson: MIDFIELD

An audience with Alan Hudson: TOO MANY MISS WORLDS AND ALL THAT JAZZ!

An audience with Alan Hudson: TEACH YOUR CHILDREN WELL

An audience with Alan Hudson: DRINKING FOR ALL THE WRONG REASONS

An audience with Alan Hudson: BALL-BOY TO SUPER-STAR

An audience with Alan Hudson: A DAY IN THE COUNTRY

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE GOAL THAT NEVER WAS

An audience with Alan Hudson: OL’ BIG HEAD

An audience with Alan Hudson: WHEN THE GLOVES COME OFF

An audience with Alan Hudson: OH! HOW WE LOVED BEATING LEEDS UNITED

An audience with Alan Hudson: GORDON BANKS FUNERAL

An audience with Alan Hudson: PIE, MASH AND COVENTRY CITY

An audience with Alan Hudson: FROM FATHER TO SON

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE WORLD IS YOUR LOBSTER

An audience with Alan Hudson: SUPPORTERS

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE HOUSE THAT MATT BUILT

An audience with Alan Hudson: SOMETHING IN THE AIR

An audience with Alan Hudson: CARPET BOWLS AND BINGO

An audience with Alan Hudson: AN AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE

An audience with Alan Hudson: ONLY FOOLS AND HORSES

An audience with Alan Hudson: SEATTLE: THE COMING TOGETHER

An audience with Alan Hudson: MANAGERS: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

An audience with Alan Hudson: NEVER FIGHT UGLY PEOPLE: THEY’VE NOTHING TO LOSE

An audience with Alan Hudson: MR. SHANKLY

An audience with Alan Hudson: A CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK; WITH A DIFFERENCE!

An audience with Alan Hudson: THE ‘NOT SO’ SPECIAL ONE IS SACKED

An audience with Alan Hudson: PORRIDGE OATS AND HAGGIS

An audience with Alan Hudson: MANCHESTER CITY 4 SPURS 3: THE REFEREE WON

An audience with Alan Hudson: WEST HAM ACADEMY: ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS!

An audience with Alan Hudson: 21 TODAY

AL’S AFTERWORD

DEVIL IN A BLUE SHIRT

All about the author: JOHN HELLIER

Alan Hudson truly was a players’ player, a fans’ player and an artist.

A man with all the gifts!

What Alan has to say about some of the games leading lights is quite breathtaking, he certainly pulls no punches.

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FIRST PUBLISHED 2019

COPYRIGHT: JOHN HELLIER & ALAN HUDSON

in conjunction with GRIFFITHS PUBLISHING www.alan-hudson.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-9956533-5-1 COVER DESIGN: BRIAN GUY

Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the copyright owners for the photographs in this book. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

………………………………………………….

Contents: Page 4 A letter from the editor/ 6 Al’s introduction/ 8 The Belfast boy talks about the Kings Road kid (George Best pays tribute)

AN AUDIENCE WITH ALAN HUDSON.....Page 11 Growing up/ 14 Blue is the colour: Chelsea team-mates/ 16 Mooro and Ramsey/ 18 Famous faces/ 20 Stoke City or bust/ 25 It’s all about a roundabout/ 29 Ipswich F****** Town/ 30 Where did it all go wrong, Don?/ 33 How can you not play for a man like this?/ 36 Pre-match rituals/ 39 Oh! How I loved White Hart Lane/ 41 Big boss man/ 44 The real ‘special one’/ 46 Director of a working man’s ballet/ 48 Don’t trust anybody  and that includes me!/ 50 A broken leg and a glass of brandy/ 52 Heartbreak hotel/ 54 The Arsenal car-crash/ 59 Ron Greenwood calls/ 62 Upstairs downstairs/ 64 Goodbye London hello Seattle/ 67 Homeward bound: Chelsea and Stoke beckon (again)/ 71 Confidence/ 74 Sponsorship and laughs go hand in hand: In our day that is!/ 77 Bank robbers, superstars and football grounds/ 80 Room-mates and best buddies/ 83 Guidance/ 86 When will Fulham find the next Johnny Haynes/ 88 Injuries and greatness go hand in hand/ 90 Jason King, the Searchers and Dusty/ 92 Number tens/ 95 Bless you, Mr. Thomas Smith MBE/ 97 How the worm has turned/ 99 Elton John songs: A bottomless pit of gold/ 102 Frank Worthington: Number one maverick/ 108 Harry Redknapp: King of the jungle/ 110 Rebel with a cause/ 112 Summer of ’66 heroes/ 117 Mexico ’70/ 119 There’s no business like show business/ 121 A Brazilian way of life/ 123 The problem lies at the very top/ 125 The greatest manager England never had/ 128 Johan Cruyff: Total football/ 130 Bobby Moore and son/ 132 A one armed striker!/ 135 School’s out for slumber/ 137 Dad/ 139 Don’t look back in anger/ 143 A sad (very sad) story/ 146 Fine margins/ 150 Bans in English football/ 152 Sir Adolph Ramsey/ 154 Sepp Blatter: King Jerk!/ 158 Frank Lampard: A Romford boy made good/ 160 Those with golden balls/ 163 If only/ 167 The news of the screws/ 171 Ossie and Hutch: Alias Smith and Jones/ 173 Special players/ 176 If music be the food of love/ 180 Send in the clowns/ 182 Racial cobblers/ 185 How ironic/ 190 The World Cup: Then and now/ 193 A story about a story about a story/ 199 Midfield/ 202 Too many Miss Worlds and all that jazz!/ 207 Teach your children well/ 209 Drinking for all the wrong reasons/ 212 Ball-boy to super-star/ 214 A day in the country/ 217 The goal that never was/ 219 Ol’ big head/ 222 When the gloves come off/ 224 Oh! How we loved beating Leeds United/ 226 Gordon Banks funeral/ 229 Pie, mash and Coventry City/ 231 From father to son/ 233 The world is your lobster/ 235 Supporters/ 237 The house that Matt built/ 239 Something in the air/ 243 Carpet bowls and bingo/ 246 An audience with the Pope/ 248 Only fools and horses/ 250 Seattle: The coming together/ 254 Managers: The good, the bad and the ugly/ 258 Never fight ugly people: They’ve nothing to lose/ 260 Mr. Shankly/ 262 A chip off the old block: With a difference!/ 264 The ‘not so’ special one is sacked/ 266 Porridge oats and haggis/ 268 Manchester City 4 Spurs 3: The referee won/ 270 West Ham academy: Absolute bollocks!/ 272 21 today.

Page 275 Al’s afterword/ 279 Matteo Sedazzari speaks with Alan Hudson/ 288 Devil in a blue shirt (Terry Venables pays tribute)/ 289 From one cockney rebel to another (Dennis Waterman pays tribute)/ 290 Breathless in Seattle (Alan Hinton pays tribute)/ 294 Huddy....Career statistics/ 295 What the fans said/ 297 All about the author: John Hellier/ 298 Alan Hudson autobiography ad/ 299 Griffiths Publishing ad/ 300 Closing quote

A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR: JOHN HELLIER (May 2019)

For me, Alan Hudson, the quintessential ‘Cockney Rebel,’ was NOT London’s answer to George Best; I prefer to think of the great George Best as Manchester’s answer to Alan Hudson. If Best equates to the Beatles, Al is the Rolling Stones!

Back in the early 1970s Alan was my football hero. He was the only guy that had it all: He had style, charisma and flamboyance in abundance, both on the football pitch and off the football pitch and Al’s off the pitch style, complete with Kings Road clobber, was just as important to a 1960s mod such as myself.

As an Arsenal supporter since schooldays, I did the unthinkable one Saturday afternoon in 1969 (or was it 1970 or 71?) and made the trip to Upton Park to watch West Ham United play Chelsea, just to see and watch the maestro. I still remember that day vividly and as well as marvelling over Al’s footwork, I also marvelled over his hair cut! Yes indeed, as shallow as that sounds looking the part was everything in my eyes and Alan Hudson was hip and looked every bit as cool as any rock star from that era. In my mind nobody came close, not even my heroes over there in London N5. Of course, a few years later he actually signed for my team but for me his prime years were his Chelsea years, even though I know Al very strongly disagrees.

Fast forward 30 years and my good pal, Dean Powell, attended a book launch of mine at the 12 Bar Club in Denmark Street in London’s West End. The venue was packed to the hilt and I was flying here, there and everywhere; signing books, talking to the press etc.etc. Dean got a message to me saying that he was in the building and with his mate, ex-footie star Alan Hudson. WOW! The excitement of the evening trebled, but alas by the time I could get away from whatever I was doing they’d left. I was truly gutted.

Fast forward another 15 years or so and my very good friend and business associate, Lewis Griffiths, who incidentally is the publisher of this book, tells me that he’s meeting an ex-footie superstar, Alan Hudson, in a West London boozer and would I like to go along. Would I what? That was a no-brainer; I was there like a flash. Having missed the opportunity in 2004 I wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. That afternoon in the Golden Lion in Fulham High Street, I finally got to meet my hero and merged a friendship with the guy there and then. I sat there mesmerized by his wonderful witty anecdotes and stories of his life adventures. There were lots of highs and lots of lows but everything that came out of his mouth was both insightful and entertaining, and sometimes very controversial. The guy had and still has charisma in bucket loads and now whether it’s sitting and chatting in his favourite pub or in his World’s End, Chelsea flat I always feel as though I have THE golden ticket.

Al’s life and career has been one long roller-coaster ride, and with such extremes comes a decision whether to scream or enjoy that ride. For the best part Alan chose to enjoy the ride but obviously this decision didn’t apply to the lowest point of all, that being his fight for life following a hit and run incident in December 1997. He received multiple injuries and was in a coma for 59 days, he even received his last rites. Al believes that the ‘accident’ was actually an attempt on his life. Following the collision he became a very talented writer and, as well as penning his autobiography, he was employed as a columnist for both the Sporting Life and Stoke Evening Sentinel newspapers. In the year 2006 he moved to Cyprus where he unsuccessfully invested £150,000 of his injury compensation in a property project and by 2012 he was back living in London in a cramped homeless hostel. His is certainly a rags to riches and back again story. He’s most certainly a complex and controversial guy and not one to compromise, perhaps that’s why I love and respect him. The Alan Hudson that I know in the year 2019 is physically damaged but he’s as bright as a star and a ‘STAR’ he most certainly is.

I would love to have written his biography but that’s already been done, more than once, so it was decided between myself, Lewis and Al to take a different approach. The result of which is in your hands right now. Al is a natural storyteller and this is a book that  need not be read from beginning to end, it’s a miscellaneous collection of individual stories from his life and career and not necessarily in chronological order, so feel free to flip the pages and read at random, each chapter stands on its own. Some of the anecdotes themselves may appear more than once, as they may well be relevant to more than one of the differing chapter topics.

The book includes an expert account of pretty much everything connected to our national game including, of course, his career with Chelsea (twice), Stoke City (twice), Arsenal, England and the Seattle Sounders. It also gives very frank opinions (some very positive, some extremely negative) of many players, managers and ‘suits’ that he’s encountered in the sport, but it isn’t just about football it also prominently features the second love in Al’s life ‘music. The book is both very insightful and very humorous: A winning and very entertaining combination.

All the big players in the game are here but one name appears so much more than any other: No, it’s not Georgie Best or Pele or Maradona or Bobby Moore; it’s his manager at Stoke City, Tony Waddington. He was undoubtedly the benchmark, his level of  quality was used as standard when comparing others and it’s clear from both writing and reading this book that he was Al’s biggest hero; his number one guy! ...Well, with the possible exception of his dad.

AL’S INTRODUCTION

The most important part of any young boy’s chances of making his dreams come true and becoming a professional footballer lay with early decisions by his parents: Well, it most certainly did in my case and I watched as others faltered. You might think that growing up in Chelsea, so close to Stamford Bridge, gave us kids an advantage but the record books show that I still remain the most local kid to ever make good at Chelsea Football Club, in fact the only one of my generation and several before. The scouting system simply does not exist, which is something that has always staggered me, because there were many talented kids around in the 50s, 60s and 70s yet none were given the opportunity to make their particular dream come true. Some years later in Stoke-on-Trent I discovered that the same thing was happening there, because clubs would prefer to either spend money on youngsters with 'proven ability' or, as is today, 'go foreign'. I use myself as both an example and exception as a youngster who came through the ranks without being coached professionally, my father saw to that. My father Bill Hudson, who played at Wimbledon and Wealdstone as an amateur, always insisted that his sons would be educated in football matters at home.

Over the years I have been approached by many parents who were looking for a way to 'cut through the tape' so as to allow their youngsters to get a real helping hand, or in other words 'put in the right direction' and my answer is always the same: 'Do not let the modern day coach knock out the in-born talent your son might have, for I know that it was something I never needed'.

Although I have stated that, I still find it difficult to believe that these parents never see a scout at their kids’ matches, which simply baffles me. I have offered my assistance on several occasions but it seems that they would rather send their youngsters to a professional football club at such a ridiculously young age. In my case I never truly developed fully until I reached the first team, as a seventeen going on eighteen year- old, and you have to keep in mind that in my day there were only sixteen players in the first team squad and our ‘foreign’ players were from Scotland and Ireland.

Do I consider myself a good judge of talent? Absolutely, and one example was Frank Lampard. Although he had come through a very good coaching system under Tony Carr at West Ham United, he was still wondering where his future lie, having received interest from Leeds Utd and Chelsea. I received a call from his father and I remember telling him, 'If young Frank wants to fulfil his dream, and I know that he is both fully committed and totally dedicated to the cause, he must not join Leeds Utd, he must go to Chelsea if he wants super-stardom'. I think that was rather good advice from a player who wore the Chelsea number 8 before Frank and after Jimmy Greaves.

I must point out that for every thousand youngsters that go to a professional football club perhaps one of them will make the first team, I might even be exaggerating. I learned through my father that you must work on your strengths as a young player, for example I have had many a coach tell me that I should have worked on my left foot, which was something very foreign to me, much like the great Ferenc Puskas who was the greatest one-footed player of all time. If you are one-footed, as I was, you simply adjust your body like Puskas did against England for Hungary on that wonderful night way back in 1953, which sent those at the FA scurrying back to the drawing board. You simply could not coach such a man, which can also be said of George Best in my day and Lionel Messi today.

I'll finish by using a saying that I think covers all aspects of our game: 'Football is a simple game made difficult by fools' and as the great West Ham United manager Ron Greenwood used to say: Simplicity is genius, well it is simplicity that I use in  everything I do when it comes to the game of football. I had trials at London schoolboys and for the London and England youth teams but never got a look in. Thereafter I only ever took the advice given to me by the one and only Bill Hudson, my dad, I don't think I did too badly: Do you?

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It was after explaining all of the above to my two very good friends, and two people at the very top of their game, that this latest 'project' came about. They are John Hellier, respected author and promoter with sell-out concerts at the likes of the Royal Albert Hall to his credit and Lewis Griffiths, a very successful publisher and film producer.

THE BELFAST BOY talks about THE KINGS ROAD KID

A tribute to Alan Hudson by GEORGE BEST (December 2002)

A few years ago Alan Hudson spent many months in hospital, after being knocked over by a hit and run driver on the Mile End Road. This was very close to the Royal London Hospital, which was handy because if they hadn't got him there fast he would surely have died. One doctor told Alan later Had you been hit anywhere else you would not be here, because we are the specialist hospital for your kind of traumatic injuries.

I first heard about the accident when I saw the headline in one newspaper ‘HUDSON SMASHED’, which must rank as the most cruel headline ever, as the man lay on his deathbed: But maybe just to upset journalists like that, Huddy refused to die and over many weeks and months fought himself back to consciousness and on to mobility. He suffered terrible injuries and amazed doctors with his extreme stamina, strength and determination. They went on record as saying he was extraordinarily fit for a man of his age and his body was in excellent shape (before the hit); a statement that was one in the eye for those that had a perceived wisdom that Alan Hudson was a drinker who did not take care of himself.

Whilst in hospital and on the road to recovery, a TV team interviewed him sitting up in his bed. The camera zoomed in disapprovingly on a bottle of vodka standing alongside medicine bottles on his bedside table. I only drink cranberry juice with my vodka these days, so I have adopted a healthy lifestyle, he said in his defence. I do not believe for one minute that Alan was drinking vodka or any other alcohol whilst in hospital, although knowing him he probably does believe that cranberry juice offsets any ill effects of the alcohol, but he would have placed the bottle there to wind the interviewers and the audience up. He really does not care one iota what the press or public think and if they want to perpetuate and believe a certain image he will play up to it. It was that obstinate quality of his that led to him not fulfilling his full potential in the game, not his drinking or lifestyle.

But he did not suffer fools gladly and had no time for imposters or bull-shitters. He wouldn't call a manager boss if he had no respect for him and if a coach was talking bollocks he would tell them so.

At Chelsea, Alan had his differences with chairman, Ken Bates. On one occasion Ken was showing Alan the new ground whilst it was being redeveloped and started pointing to various structures and constructions to try to help Alan visualise how the new stadium would look. We're determined to recognise the history of the club and over there is Bentley's Bar after the great 1955 League winning captain Roy Bentley. Alan was beginning to think that perhaps the old boy wasn't so bad after all. And here, Alan, we're building a bar called Huddy's slapping Alan on the back and looking closely to see his reaction. Pride welled up inside and for once Alan was lost for words, until Bates added, I've always been a great admirer of ROY HUDD!

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Legends!

An audience with Alan Hudson: GROWING UP

Slinging your jumpers down on the ground to make goalposts and cracking on, something that couldn't happen today with roads closing and cars everywhere. Nobody could afford a car in our street. A couple of years ago we were driving through Fulham into these buildings to do a radio show - me and a good mate Martin Knight - and as we drove in there was a sign on the wall ‘NO BALL GAMES’ and we both looked at one another, and I said, 'Now they wonder why we don't have any kids coming through,' although Chelsea FC are not interested in local kids anyway. History tells us that and I can say that being the only local to ever put that shirt over my head. I have always said that there is something wrong with the system with the Chelsea locals. At Chelsea Boys Club years ago we had a brilliant young Under-14-team, but no, nothing, no scouts nothing. The only scout I ever saw was on TV with the Lone Ranger, and there was no chance of his horse, Tonto, coming into the Worlds End estate, for it would not have been allowed back out again! My father walked me through the gates at the Bridge otherwise I'd still be cleaning windows or decorating (like him) or carpet laying. Great isn’t it? Chelsea, a place rife with talent ever since I was a kid. I learned my trade in small sided games and in years to come excelled in five-a-sides because of my upbringing, being educated in such games. It annoys me, right up until this day, that kids can no longer do such things and they wonder why they go astray; computers, mobile phones and then drugs as a pastime.

I had to spend my time, from the age of twelve, at the old Cooks Ground, which had become Kingsley, which was known as Kingsley Cowshed. At that time I wasn't aware that it was a year or two after it had become an all boys school, a right result for me, because as it turned out women, you might say, became something of a nightmare in my life, but then I was far too young although very impressionable because all of my elders seemed to be taking more notice of the opposite sex than the round ball. This, at such a young age, was something else never taught to us. However, I was the happiest kid at both Park Walk Primary and Kingsley Secondary Modern schools and on the football front I had my very own personal 'coach', a word I knew nothing about way back in 1963. I was even luckier in this department for my football tutor lived under the same roof, one Billy Hudson (dad), someone I saw as an asphalter (vaguely) and thereafter a painter and decorator who played for the local Chelsea Old Boys team, who were a bunch of local blokes who took things more serious than a match I watched the other night between Huddersfield Town and Fulham on Sky TV. Had some of those characters had been wearing a Fulham shirt there would have been 'right-handers' flying around and I don't mean at the opposition; Johnny Fennell, Billy Digweed, Billy

Bird, my Uncle Georgie Mason and my tutor Billy Hudson to name just five. Watching the Old Boys gave me time to reflect on how far I wanted to go? No, it was my tutor who did that thinking for his young son.

This was my springboard to where my tutor wanted me to go as he saw my future at a much higher level, a level that was beyond his wildest dreams. His first job was to see that we, my brother and I, never had the same hurdles placed in front of us that he had placed in front of him. So, if it applies to football it must also apply to everything else, but as kids we are too busy enjoying our upbringing, well I definitely was, than seeing the bigger picture of years later. Yes of course, it's called experience something money cannot buy. I was very fortunate to have him being everything I needed at such a young and vulnerable age, an age which can map out the rest of one’s life.

Next, it was time to work out the most important part of life; there are some, like Frank Lampard and Jamie Redknapp, who had fathers who were in a position that could make life a little easier for you, as managers or coaches at top London football clubs: And then there was the other side of the page, the one where I saw young boys come to Stamford Bridge as 13-year-olds completely lost by everything around them, and for most I can only imagine that looking back years later it was enough for them to say, I could have made it but I was at an age where I found girls and a pub, and if I had a fifty pound note for every time I heard that cliché I would not have had to find work after school.

My reply to those was and still is, 'What do you think George Best was doing then; going to church? There's one thing for sure and that is had I not made it I would have accepted it and got on with life, because I was never hell bent on being a player like many I know. I loved the game then and have wonderful memories of playing at all levels from Park Walk Primary, where we won everything, to my father’s Chelsea Boys Club, where we won the big one, the National Associations of Boys Clubs trophy, to the Chelsea Youth Team and that debut 1969/70 season and thereafter. The only football I did not enjoy was playing in the reserves before reaching that incredible opening season, although my debut was a nightmare where the only thing that didn't go wrong was the usual, getting injured. I cannot put my finger on why that period was not at all enjoyable, maybe it might have been the time where my father always said You'll be alright once you grow into yourself meaning I might have been struggling with that. As I have always said to parents that ask me for advice for their children, 'Don't put any pressure on them at such an early age, all kids progress at a different rate' because I've seen kids big and strong who are 'tipped for the top' and then fall away while others catch them up physically.

In a nutshell, I truly believe my father wanted me to become a professional footballer more than I did, because I was absolutely happy 'playing ball' with my pals locally. It's frightening to think that I might have had to go to Chelsea on those Tuesday and Thursday nights like the majority of those youngsters. I only had a ten minute walk to those great big front gates, which have now been replaced by not so fresh air leading into hotels and bars, or should I say money making operations. Yeah, those days when it looked like a football ground are gone forever.

Anyway, by the time I was reaching the end of my schooldays we knew that Chelsea were going to offer me apprenticeship terms, another thing that is or was so completely different from today. For instance, I was once very close to Paul Miller who played in that very good Spurs team of the early 80s with Hoddle, Ardiles and Hazard, their three main footballing instigators. Paul told me he was a Chelsea supporter and was mad keen on signing for them but when they offered him the standard deal he sat and tried  to bargain with them, he ended up signing for the North London club instead. It was no surprise that after his football career ended he worked in the City alongside all those involved in the wealthy side of life: Banking!

I couldn't bargain until I realized I was being turned over at Stamford Bridge where those offering you contracts had no right to be in such a position, which is why I have always been in favour of agents. Young kids, in the main, only want to play regardless of the financial situation whereas clubs love that, so when Bosman entered the fray it shook their money trees. How the worm turned, but that was far too late for me and my kind. I can honestly say with my 'hand on heart' I was never interested in the money side of our game until, as I say, it was far too late. Today, when you see the players become what some call 'journeymen' it hits home and whether I think it's right or wrong there is always two sides to every coin.

For instance, look at Nicholas Anelka that brilliant kid who came through Arsene Wenger at Arsenal and went on to play for everyone who offered him the best deal, much like something out of Only Fools and Horses and Del Boy. His Del Boy was much like Rodney Trotter, his brother, yeah his brother brokering his contracts, now to me that is the ideal situation.

Again, you could not learn that in a school classroom!

An audience with Alan Hudson: BLUE IS THE COLOUR: CHELSEA TEAM-MATES

Caviar and jellied eels, is how I would describe the blend of Chelsea! There is a great story about David Webb and his Rolls Royce. I was walking through the Bridge one Friday morning, after training, and he said to me, Where are you going young Hud? I replied, ‘Alexandre for lunch' and he said, Great I'll join you and threw me the keys to his prized possession, his new Rolls Royce. I got in the driving seat and he sat in the back with his Daily Telegraph and began looking out of the window all the way up the Kings Road and I was slowing down at bus stops etc., so he could do all but wave to people. I got to Markham Square which was a tight turning and very difficult to park a Mini let alone a Roller. I somehow got down this road and parked it. We got out and I threw him the keys back and as he caught them he said. Is that the first time you have driven a Roller, son? I, the budding Damon Hill, replied, 'Webby, it's the first time I've driven a f****** car, mate' and he went whiter than his Daily Telegraph.

Eddie McCreadie, once the greatest full-back on the planet, he was always selected for the World XI, but was beginning to have sight problems which affected his confidence. Eddie was one of my favourite people in the game, a great player and great man, I only wished he would have brought me in as his player-coach from Arsenal when I was having trouble there, when he was the Chelsea manager. I would have been his perfect right hand man and I loved him. He once told me I was the closest thing to Jim Baxter, which was quite a compliment. I played for Eddie in the States in Cleveland after turning down a more lucrative deal to play elsewhere. My agent, Pat Healy, thought I was mad saying They'll never pay you what Pittsburgh will, and my reply was 'Some things are more important than money and Eddie was my choice.'

John Hollins was a managers dream, he worked hard and never gave a problem, unlike us others. I thought he should have played at right-back for he was quick and could run all day. In midfield with me and Charlie I think we needed a 'cooler' player because Holly would try to play the impossible ball, giving it away far too much, and later on as a coach I thought the same thing, he was not a great football man. The game for him was 100 miles-an-hour which did not suit Charlie and me; we loved creativity and we were the heart and soul of midfield.

John Dempsey (ex Fulham) was the most under-rated central defender, along with Peter Simpson (Arsenal), Marvin Hinton and Alan Dodd (Stoke City), I ever saw. He hardly put a foot wrong and had the most incredibly bad sense of humour. I loved John as I was a Fulham supporter when I was a schoolboy and he played there. We made our Chelsea debut together in a 5-0 defeat.. It was incredible that only a year later we'd be involved with those two great cup runs which broke new ground at the Bridge. I still try to keep in touch with him as he is one of life's dreams and his work after football with those handicapped kids is never mentioned, he’s an absolute gem. Dempsey had us in stitches on tour one day at the back of the bus. We were all telling stories about our funny experiences and his was, I was playing for Eire against Denmark and having a real battle with their number 9 when all of a sudden they got a corner and we were both still man-handling one another when all of a sudden I got hit from behind, over the head, and as I turned to hit someone there stood this little old lady with an umbrella, which she had hit me with. The boys fell about, because only Demps could have been involved in such an incident: A very funny man.

Tommy 'The Sponge' Baldwin took over from George Graham at Chelsea and was a big favourite both in the dressing room and on the pitch. When playing he would sweat blood for you and scored many important goals when asked to replace the injured Ian Hutchinson. Tommy remains a great friend and I still see him when I can. Being called ‘The Sponge’ was misinterpreted as the fans thought it was because he soaked up work on the field but it was far from that. He was the man who drank and arm-wrestled Richard Harris 'A Man Called Horse' in his spare time at 3am in the morning down the KIngs Road. He remains a true friend and one you could never fall out with, a great temperament and, as I say, would run through a brick wall to score for you.

What I loved on the pitch was taking corner kicks and watching the likes of Osgood, Dempsey, Hutchinson and Webb pile into the box, all going in different directions with Hutch and Johnny heading mainly for the near post, Osgood in the middle of it all and Webby picking up any scraps, like the scrap at Old Trafford on that most magical of nights when gunning down Revie's Leeds United in the Cup Final replay, although not so magical for little old injured me sitting upstairs watching in frustration.

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An audience with Alan Hudson: MOORO AND RAMSEY

I got to know Bobby Moore at the end of the 1971/72 season at