During my time working for a telecommunications company in Cheetham Hill , I was effectively sacked from working on the trade counter and moved to their customer service section. This was in an old Victorian building with squeaking, creaky floors, minimum heating and maximum health and safety failings. The "customer service section" was actually just an open space outside a ramshackle office and adjacent to a 19th century warehouse area. I was given a worktop to carry out my duties. The year was 1990.
When I first started in this role, the only other person working in the same area as me was a raw 16 year old lad called Liam. His main task was to stick labels on telecommunications equipment. I attempted to strike up conversations with him. His voice was monosyllabic and it's strangled, nasal delivery had earned him the dubious nickname of "Chewie" (after Chewbacca, the Star Wars character). He told me he was born in Ireland but his family had moved to Cheetham Hill when he was very young. He made it clear to me that despite his Cheetham Hill accented, Chewbacca sounding voice he was Irish and not English.
I warmed to Chewie straight away. He seemed to get overly picked on (nowadays they would call it bullying) from the older lads in the warehouse. This reached a peak during the 1990 World Cup as his vociferous support of the Republic of Ireland football team in a group match against England brought him extra "attention". Chewie was no angel and he defended himself the best a 16 year old could but he always seemed to come off second best so he regularly had my sympathy.
After the move to Salford Quays later in 1990 Chewie was integated into working with the other warehouse lads. The "bat cave" I was stuck in was adjacent to his area of work. There was no door on the cave so I could hear all the "banter" outside in the warehouse area. It largely consisted of "Chewie Bashing" but as he got a little older he started to fight back more vigorously and, on a few occasions, he got embroiled in a few fisticuffs. It always calmed down again though, but my thoughts used to be he had a real fighting Irishman spirit and anytime he felt hard done by he was going to give as good as he got.
Regular social occasions were arranged at this place of work during the early 1990s and Chewie regularly made appearances. The issue was Chewie's already volatile temperament became explosive when he'd had too much to drink and on occasion he wanted to take on the world. Many times his workmates would put their own differences with him to one side and help him out of his scrapes. I rarely ventured to the same fleshpots as Chewie and the warehouse lads but I would hear all the stories on Monday morning of their disorderly behaviour. On one memorable occasion, they were on a night out in Blackpool and late in the night one of the other lads was having a "man to man" chat with Chewie, reasoning with him not to get involved in any trouble, as they walked along the promenade. Whilst in mid-sentence, Chewie's workmate suddenly noticed he wasn't beside him anymore and as he looked around Chewie was brawling on the ground with a complete stranger. They were pulled apart and the situation calmed down. Later on he was asked what all that was about. He thought maybe the lad he was fighting with had said something derogatory to him but he couldn't be sure.Classic Chewie.
Chewie left the company, then returned a few years later, then left again. I heard in more recent times that he found love and settled down. I have met quite a few violent, moronic lads over the years and despised them. Chewie wasn't one of them. He always had the potential to be violent, but he was far from moronic and his ire was only raised through severe provocation. He was a rapscallion, but also a very likeable character. Slainte Chewie!
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