
On Saturday, we were up bright and early to head down the M6 to Nuneaton, and the town’s branch of Waterstones. It’s the home town of UK wrestling legend Scrubber Daly – he was born and brought up a couple of miles away, in Bedworth – and we’d arranged a book-signing session to promote his incredible autobiography.
The book gods smiled on us. The weather was beautiful, the town centre was busy with shoppers, and the massive pile of books we’d taken with us – on the basis that it was better to take too many than find ourselves left short – was a substantially smaller pile by the time we packed and left. So small, in fact, that it barely qualified as a pile at all.
Our huge thanks to the management and staff at Nuneaton’s Waterstones, who made us very welcome, and pulled out all the stops to promote the event. You’re wonderful. And an honourable mention in dispatches to the bloke who turned up with a pint of semi-skimmed milk for Scrubber, apparently to replace the one he stole from Scrubber’s milk float forty years earlier when he was a cheeky scamp, and Scrubber was just that bit too far away to chase him down successfully. Well played, sir. Well played.