“Basically, I couldn’t get any”, complains the leather-faced guitar legend. “I was an apprentice at Brentford, the Bees, and we’d train during the day, clean a few boots then I’d head on down to Chiswick at night to catch some blues. I was a great defender. Liked to get stuck in. Caught a ref round the head with a skull ring when I was thirteen”.
Richards says the lack of good quality hash made him throw in the towel. “In the Sixties, apprentices were on three bob a week. I’d save it up to buy some decent puff. But no-one at the club was selling the good Moroccan slabs. Bert the groundsman used to slip me a few leapers and I know for a fact the Chairman was dealing horse, but could I get some decent marijuana? It was very disappointing”.
Though building a decent reputation for its access to heroin, it was Brentford’s neighbours Queens Park Rangers that offered the best cannabis in London. “The weed at that gaff was the very, very best”, cackles Richards.