|
By:
Happy Valley • October 25, 2011 10:02 AM BST
who remembers jack remo of the silver ring fame around the south as a kid i once had eight pounds to win 15 on something at brighton and when it won he tried to pay me 15 quid, i said no it was 23 please, he said you have had eight on to win 15, here's your 15 effing quid and eff off before i bash your effing 'ed with my effing 'ammer. What he didn't know was that i was at the races with my grandad who'd been making a book on course since between the wars. He said you're lucky he didn't bash you, he would have when he was younger but he's all right underneath, let's go and get your money. We went up to his pitch and Bilkie had a word, Remo turned all avuncular, why didn't you tell you woz Bilkie's grandson he said, here's your 23 quid and good luck to you son!! SkintofGreatYarmouth • October 25, 2011 10:37 AM BST Happy Valley, Dominic Sabini, was his real name. I knew him very well. He was a notorious criminal and gangster, 'Dominic Sabini 1 CONC gang' in the Islington area, but treated me like a son. I loved him to bits. He would often say to me, "Got any money kid" and i would say, "Dominic, i'm f*cking skint" and he would always give me two or three quid. A heart of gold! Happy Valley • October 25, 2011 11:15 AM BST skint of GY thanks for that post - i was going to add that my grandad told me much the same, and that being banged on the 'ed with an 'ammer by Remo/Sabini would have been the least of my worries if he taken a proper dislike to me, i think he told me he'd once done 10 years but we are going back 35 years for this anecdote, but I left out these details as I didn't want to over-egg the pudding and give the appearance of making things up |
|
By:
Yep, remember my old man pointing out (quietly!) "Jack Remo" and warning me about him. Was the only bookmaker he ever steered me away from. Also at Brighton funnily enough. Remo/Sabini was very old by that stage - you wouldn't see him so much at Plumpton or Fontwell, maybe he didn't like the cold. But he was always at Brighton. Dad told stories about JR, razor fights, all sorts of dodgy dealings. Said give him a wide berth, although his prices never seemed on the generous side so that wasn't a problem. Being a wet-behind-the-ears kid it was hard to look at this OAP with a thick blanket over his lap, sitting next to his joint (when everyone else was standing) and think - yeah, he looks like a right nutter I'll give him a miss. But by the sound of it my old man wasn't wrong and I'm glad I took my (very small) business elsewhere.
|