BILLY BREMNER MEMORIAL JOIN OUR CAMPAIGN
Date: 30th March 2024
Mr. Broon says naw tae a transplant…
“It’s him, tell Alfonse, warn him, I swear to the absolute gods it is HIM…”
It is half twelve on a Saturday and legendary Ayr barbers, Levano’s is buzzing.
“But ah thought he had a shaved heid?”
At the back of the shop, just beyond the stripey curtain affair, two of the juniors are debating just who it is sitting in the waiting area.
“Aye, he used tae but once he got a big joab, he stopped shaving it, but as my mother lives and breathes fire, that is him!”
Both of them now turn their gaze towards the man in question and stare. Just as they stare for a moment too long, the man in question lifts his head, turns it directly at them and stares back…
They both keech themselves and slink backwards together into the back shop.
Just then, Alfonse motions to Mr. Broon to come up to the chair and be ready for the haircut…
Picture the scene…
As Mr. Broon sits on the motioned seat, he knows what the topic of conversation has been – the hair on his heid. Well aware of a fearsome reputation, since coming to the toon, there have been few who felt they could raise it, but many, like the juniors who felt it all right to stand, stare, point and make comment under their breath: Mr. Broon is well used to it.
Now Alfonse is making a fuss.
“How we wanting it…?”
Alfonse, a camp mix of Scots and Italian flair, is actually from Barassie and was brought up by a relatively tough wee single maw who is still next door neighbour to Johnny “Mad Dog” Adair, but like his maw, Alfonse likes to tell folk he is actually from Troon. It makes his cosmopolitan flair feel more… exotic.
Mr. Broon looks up and speaks slowly, “just neater please.”
Alfonse is well aware of who Mr. Broon is. “No special treatment the day then?” he asks in high camp with his hands flapping about like they are trying to decorate a moving Easter Egg.
Mr. Broon decides to have some fun.
“What like,” he enquires.
Alfonse is not used to questions. “Well, should I be careful about anything?”
Mr. Broon refuses to clarify, “like what?” he asks.
Alfonse is increasingly reddening. “Well, like anything at all… I mean… I mean… is there anything that you have special?”
“What,” begins Mr. Broon. “Like what exactly? A lotion maybe, or something more extreme?”
Alfonse retreats to his usual safe place. “You have a lovely head of hair…” flattery usually does it…
But not this time.
Mr. Broon turns in his chair.
“Are you suggesting something?” he asks.
“Noooooooo….” responds Alfonse.
“I mean,” continues Mr. Broon “I hear some men go to great lengths about their hair.”
Alfonse is beginning to panic now that he can see into Mr. Broon’s eyes. They are a bit scary…
“Really… is that so… imagine that… Would you believe it… well clearly you do believe it… otherwise why would you… anyway… just tidied up? No special stuff and definitely no transplant…”
It was out before he could stop himself. Mr. Broon decides to have some more fun.
“Transplant?” he begins again. “Can you actual see it, like?”
Alfonse thinks he is on secure ground now…
“No, you can’t. Brilliantly done if I say so myself. This is fantastic work., you would not know,” he exclaims quite loudly. In fact, so loudly that everyone in the shop is now staring at him and at his customer. Mr. Broon knows exactly what he is doing.
“Fantastic work indeed. Cos, I have never had one, and if you had noticed one or would have said to anyone else that I had one, I might have had to come back… for a chat…”
Everyone knew what “a chat” meant and everybody waited for Alfonse to recover.
“You know,” he started. “I am glad you said that because I had an eejit in here just the other day yapping away about your skinhead days and how he was sure you had a bit of work done. But you leave it with me, Mr. Broon and the word as they say, shall be spread, rather than the muck that boy was speaking.”
Mr. Broon smirked but his interest was piqued. He wanted to know who the boy was spreading rumours, but for now, he knew that he could not push things too far. He settled down and got his hair neatly sorted and trimmed. When he left, he left behind a generous tip, knowing that at some time in the future he might need to return to find more things out about how his presence in the toon had been taken. But for now, he was happy to walk on, walk tall and spread the joy…
Whilst the author asserts his right to this as an original piece of work there is no evidence that Scott Brown visits Levano’s in Ayr, unless you know differently, so, this is clearly a piece of fiction.
The fact is that Scott Brown in a BBC interview revealed the reason why he shaved his head whilst playing and why now he has a full head of his very own hair… “[I did it] just to intimidate people, it worked quite well if I’m honest. I made that decision just to be horrible.” Now he thinks his new look makes him much more approachable…
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