Sharpe as a Blade
Part One, the 50s and 60s
Nonfiction, Sports, Football (Soccer), Biography & Memoir, Social & Cultural Studies, Social Science
| Author: | Ronnie Sharpe | ISBN: | 9781783011360 |
| Publisher: | eBookPartnership.com | Publication: | August 29, 2013 |
| Imprint: | eBookPartnership.com | Language: | English |
| Author: | Ronnie Sharpe |
| ISBN: | 9781783011360 |
| Publisher: | eBookPartnership.com |
| Publication: | August 29, 2013 |
| Imprint: | eBookPartnership.com |
| Language: | English |
Ronnie Sharpe, lifelong Sheffield United fan, Dronfield scrapmen and semi-retired football hooligan has just written the X-rated first volume of his life story, Sharpe as a Blade.
Nick Hornby has nothing on him; Ronnie's book is footballs answer to the Fred Pass phenomenon with added sex and violence.
Once a Shoreham Bootboy, his book has a photograph of his police charge sheet after being caught with a knuckleduster at United's away game at Chelsea in 1967- he's not lost his love for the Blades but he has of the game.
On match days he visits the United pubs with his mates, sinks a pint and often something stronger, then follows the score on teletext.
'The games lost all the buzz. It's all about money isn't it? Modern day football as passed me by.' Mourns Ronnie. He writes, 'We chat about the old days when we stood under rusty corrugated tin sheds or on open rain swept crumbling terraces. When the grounds had some style, some soul, some history and some individuality.
'Every ground was different and had its own unique feel, smell and atmosphere unlike the safe, sanitised, Americanised stadia of today.'
Born in 1951 and brought up in a back to back terrace on Cammells Row, Dronfield, Ronnie carries his story on up to the end of the 60s.
It charts every rough and tumble and fumble. He loses his cherry after being third in line to an energetic girl in a barn and has a bizarre three in a bed experience with a female circus lion tamer in Blackpool.
His previous writing experience was penning his name on charge sheets. Ronnie was never shy of putting the boot in and had his collar felt several times, but he has a tale to tell and he tells it very well.
- Martin Dawes, The Sheffield Star
Nick Hornby has nothing on him; Ronnie's book is footballs answer to the Fred Pass phenomenon with added sex and violence.
Once a Shoreham Bootboy, his book has a photograph of his police charge sheet after being caught with a knuckleduster at United's away game at Chelsea in 1967- he's not lost his love for the Blades but he has of the game.
On match days he visits the United pubs with his mates, sinks a pint and often something stronger, then follows the score on teletext.
'The games lost all the buzz. It's all about money isn't it? Modern day football as passed me by.' Mourns Ronnie. He writes, 'We chat about the old days when we stood under rusty corrugated tin sheds or on open rain swept crumbling terraces. When the grounds had some style, some soul, some history and some individuality.
'Every ground was different and had its own unique feel, smell and atmosphere unlike the safe, sanitised, Americanised stadia of today.'
Born in 1951 and brought up in a back to back terrace on Cammells Row, Dronfield, Ronnie carries his story on up to the end of the 60s.
It charts every rough and tumble and fumble. He loses his cherry after being third in line to an energetic girl in a barn and has a bizarre three in a bed experience with a female circus lion tamer in Blackpool.
His previous writing experience was penning his name on charge sheets. Ronnie was never shy of putting the boot in and had his collar felt several times, but he has a tale to tell and he tells it very well.
- Martin Dawes, The Sheffield Star
Ronnie Sharpe, lifelong Sheffield United fan, Dronfield scrapmen and semi-retired football hooligan has just written the X-rated first volume of his life story, Sharpe as a Blade.
Nick Hornby has nothing on him; Ronnie's book is footballs answer to the Fred Pass phenomenon with added sex and violence.
Once a Shoreham Bootboy, his book has a photograph of his police charge sheet after being caught with a knuckleduster at United's away game at Chelsea in 1967- he's not lost his love for the Blades but he has of the game.
On match days he visits the United pubs with his mates, sinks a pint and often something stronger, then follows the score on teletext.
'The games lost all the buzz. It's all about money isn't it? Modern day football as passed me by.' Mourns Ronnie. He writes, 'We chat about the old days when we stood under rusty corrugated tin sheds or on open rain swept crumbling terraces. When the grounds had some style, some soul, some history and some individuality.
'Every ground was different and had its own unique feel, smell and atmosphere unlike the safe, sanitised, Americanised stadia of today.'
Born in 1951 and brought up in a back to back terrace on Cammells Row, Dronfield, Ronnie carries his story on up to the end of the 60s.
It charts every rough and tumble and fumble. He loses his cherry after being third in line to an energetic girl in a barn and has a bizarre three in a bed experience with a female circus lion tamer in Blackpool.
His previous writing experience was penning his name on charge sheets. Ronnie was never shy of putting the boot in and had his collar felt several times, but he has a tale to tell and he tells it very well.
- Martin Dawes, The Sheffield Star
Nick Hornby has nothing on him; Ronnie's book is footballs answer to the Fred Pass phenomenon with added sex and violence.
Once a Shoreham Bootboy, his book has a photograph of his police charge sheet after being caught with a knuckleduster at United's away game at Chelsea in 1967- he's not lost his love for the Blades but he has of the game.
On match days he visits the United pubs with his mates, sinks a pint and often something stronger, then follows the score on teletext.
'The games lost all the buzz. It's all about money isn't it? Modern day football as passed me by.' Mourns Ronnie. He writes, 'We chat about the old days when we stood under rusty corrugated tin sheds or on open rain swept crumbling terraces. When the grounds had some style, some soul, some history and some individuality.
'Every ground was different and had its own unique feel, smell and atmosphere unlike the safe, sanitised, Americanised stadia of today.'
Born in 1951 and brought up in a back to back terrace on Cammells Row, Dronfield, Ronnie carries his story on up to the end of the 60s.
It charts every rough and tumble and fumble. He loses his cherry after being third in line to an energetic girl in a barn and has a bizarre three in a bed experience with a female circus lion tamer in Blackpool.
His previous writing experience was penning his name on charge sheets. Ronnie was never shy of putting the boot in and had his collar felt several times, but he has a tale to tell and he tells it very well.
- Martin Dawes, The Sheffield Star
