"Our Leader"

Where it all went right, where it all went wrong...

Looking at the new and improved South London Tangerines (SLTs) website, it's hard not to marvel at how far the club has come since it's inception in The Puzzle Pub in Earlsfield nearly five years ago. There have been lows, such as nine men line-ups and the Jolly Gardeners' disappointing Christmas Party buffet, but generally the SLTs have gone from strength to strength.

Behind this success story, there is a man who has been involved with the club from the start. To most he is more than a man - he is perhaps a movement, a visionary and, dare I say it, a messiah. In short he is the Louis Walsh to our Boyzone. This, then, is the story of Ralph Milne and the SLTs (great name for a band).

"Hello, the Queen's Head". That's how it all started, with Ralph picking up the phone of the Queen's Head public house in Nailsea, a small town just outside Bristol and making SLT dreams come true. The two of us chatted for a while, I explained the formation of the SLTs and he quickly invited us to Bristol.

"You could play a game down here", he said, "In fact don't get a hotel, just bring sleeping bags and stay in the pub". With a firm yes to the game and an awkward silence to the sleeping bag proposal, the SLT-Ralph Milne connection was formed and so it was that on a bright Saturday morning, a dozen SLTs boarded the fast train to Bristol.

Needless to say spirits were high, and higher still when we donned our t-shirts for the occasion. On the front was a black and white photo of Ralph's chipped league winner, on the back in tangerine read 'Ralph Milne Weekend'. As we dived into our equally impressive carry-out it was hard not to feel nervous as we waited for our first meeting with Ralphie.

Well most of us. To be fair the SLT project was still a work in progress at that point so we'd had to draft in a a few bodies who not only didn't know who Ralph was but, to be honest, didn't really know where they were going. One English member of the contingent, for example, was told by a mischievous SLT that Ralph was black but that's another matter.

After checking into our hotel we jumped in taxis to Nailsea. It's hard to fully convey the excitement amongst the SLT travelling contingent in those first few hours of being in Ralph's vicinity. As the great man sipped his drink and reeled off his anecdotes we leant over the bar, eager not to miss a word. Gavin McGregor, who to be honest isn't even a football fan, excitedly whipped of his jacket to display the back of our t-shirts.

Those t-shirts would later be recalled warmly by Ralph in an interview with The Scotsman, but at the time his reaction was a frown and a muttered, "that's a bit much". Poor Gavin was momentarily crushed, but bounced back as Ralph slipped back into a more genial role.

People say that they never forget where they were when they heard that President Kennedy was shot. In a similar vein, I don't think you ever forget hearing the first time that Ralph Milne describes his league winning goal. He's got many stories but this is his My Way -

"Kirky (Billy Kirkwood) ran right across me, feck knows where he was going but he wasn't getting it. Doddsy (Davie Dodds) was to my left but I wasn't giving it to him on his left foot. I looked up and saw the keeper off his line and thought 'if I catch this right, it's in'. And I did".

It was easy to get carried away and I must confess that I was a prime example. As Ralph posed for photos with us outside the bar I had a rush of blood to the head and attempted to pick him up on my shoulders. People later spoke of the sheer alarm on Ralph's face as it registered that he was slowly rising into the air but I recall only the sensation of him slapping the top of my head and insisting with strong language that I put him down. As I said at the time, I simply misread the situation.

Ralph declined to join us at the nightclub unfortunately but the next day we arrived at a local football pitch bleary-eyed but happy, and we were pleasantly surprised when he greeted us in full kit. The night before he'd declared himself unfit but there had been a last minute change of heart and he lasted the first half.

Inspired by former Bristol City striker (and father of Fulham's Liam) Leroy Rosenior, the Bristol collective saw us off convincingly with Ralph displaying one moment of magic, a whipped cross from the touchline that he hit without looking at the ball. For the SLTs the highlight was probably Gregor Dobbie's firm headed goal, unfortunately into his own net.

From there it was back to the Queen's Head for a few hours of boozing and karaoke before a rousing send-off ended the opening chapter of the 'Milne and Booze' romance. (That was supposed to sound like Mills and Boon).

Our next trip to Bristol saw the SLTs produce hope from tragedy. When the Nigerian youth team had to cancel a charity friendly with their Bristol City counterparts after a plane crash, the SLTs bravely boarded a train to the South-West and stepped into the breach in a match-up with a team of local hooligans.

Although it was a rare treat to play on the surface at Ashton Gate, it wasn't quite so exciting to be physically attacked whenever in possession of the ball. Poor Matt (who had dropped an entire tray of rum and cokes on the original Ralph Milne weekend and been forced to buy another) was treated to the sight of a Bristol savage hurtling towards him through the air like a two footed tornado. He was lucky to escape with a broken ankle as we limped into the Queen's Head afterwards to hear Ralph's criticism of our display.

It was Christmas that was to prove the highlight of Ralphie's SLT interaction when he and his former girfriend joined the SLTs in their spiritual home of the Jolly Gardener's for a Christmas Party. Although it started conservatively, with a poor buffet and some awards, things soon got quickly out of hand.

There is still speculation about how many times Ralph sang Suspicious Minds on the karaoke that night - some stick with four, whilst others have gone as high as eight in the years since. I would hesitantly suggest six, but it's very hard to say. Each rendition saw incredible scenes of dancing Shedboys swinging from the conservatory rafters and Ali Merry waltzing with a large tangerine cushion.

The next day, back in the Jolly Gardeners' and nursing a Sportsmans, Ralph told us he had seen Jesus in the steam on his Travelodge mirror that morning. Somehow, we all understood, especially when he whipped out some of his historic United tops and talked us through the Standard Liege game. It was an emotional send-off at Earlsfield station as Ralph ended his first (and possibly last) visit to the SLT badlands of South West London.

A few months later I would take Ralph back to Old Trafford for FourFourTwo Magazine. In between posing on the pitch, Ralph detailed the circumstances that saw him plucked from Bristol City by Sir Alex Ferguson. "Fergie had a dinner on so he took me to his house", he noted. "I played snooker with his son Darren while he showered, then we chatted as he dressed. He dropped me off at a hotel and told me to come to training the next day. The first person I bumped into was Gordon Strachan who asked me what the fuck I was doing there".

Afterwards we went to an Irish pub in Deansgate that Ralph remembered fondly from those stolen Manchester years. He'd been an eager member of the drinking culture at United, spending hazy afternoons with Pallister, McGrath and Whiteside. But his Old Trafford stint hadn't been a happy time and he was more comfortable talking about the other United in his life.

I would interview him again around the time of the 20th anniversary of his chipped wonder strike. It was a goal that few footballers could have taken, and fewer still could have matched it to an anecdote such as this - "There were people all over the roads so I just stuck the car in the Radio Tay carpark and walked to the ground. Folk were shouting whether or not we were going to do it. 'Of course we'll fecking do it!' I shouted back."

As many of you will be aware Ralph has recently relocated back to his spiritual home of Dundee. I last saw him in the Doc Ferry's public house during the Scotland-Italy international, in magnificent form and sporting a daring shirt and tie combination. "We've got this game won", he said with certainty, moments before the Italian equaliser flew into the net.

It's not about his predictions though, it never was. He once said he never thought we'd make it to the Queen's Head, but thankfully we did and a fledgling football club found a man who has become more than a hero. As he will always be a little bit SLT, the South London Tangerines will also be a little bit Ralph Milne, and the club cocktail will firmly remain the rum and coke.

Article by Neil Forsyth www.neilforsyth.com