'Bro'

Now with my friends we did have a sort of loose basis of this, we always have that second nature to look out for each other, try and be each others wingman and often failing, unless your name is Kevin Ian Cole, who didn't need anyone's help at all in that department. I've had the bro codes when it comes to being on a football pitch with the various teams that I've played for. I remember my coach from my Fishtoft Youth days saying that he didn't care if we won or lost as long as we were there for each other, then he proceeded to call us prats when we all got involved with a fight during a very heated game against our arch rivals Nortoft. Hey coach we were only doing what you said, he still brings it up when we bump into each other nearly 30 years later.

I've had bromances before with people that were in my life for a short time, people like Chris Nutt, an ex of a friend, we hit it off properly, having very similar interests and outlook of life. Alas the relationship didn't work out between them and although we stayed in contact for a little while afterwards it became a little awkward for us and it just sort of fizzled out. People I've worked with like Dave Shallor, Jim Andolini and Sara Kitchener (an honorary bro) were part of my life then went the way of the dodo. 

There is a question that I've been pondering,  is there a code that encompasses all men equally? I like to think so. I like to think of it almost like the fellowship of the ring, where every man in the world brings something to party. That when the need arises they can form a group and accomplish great things, maybe not going into the fires of Mount Doom to destroy a ring but I have been to Scunthorpe before and can testify that it's nearly as bleak as Mordor. That joke aside it's something that I have seen, normally when there is an emergency when for the good of helping out some pour unfortunate soul men bind together in a effort to to come to their aid. It doesn't always come out like that though. There have been three times in my life that I could point to, to say that was a bro moment.

I can clearly remember the first one, it was a Friday night in the Sub Club at the start of my second year, it wasn't overly busy, about 300 people in there which for the time was a mediocre night at best. It was getting on for the end of the night, much alcohol had been consumed by all, including several red aftershocks which was my drink of choice at the time. I don't know where everyone else had disappeared to, Scott had probably pulled and was making his way back to the unfortunate ladies house, Dave was nowhere to be seen and Matt and Becky had long since gone home to do the unspeakable acts against humanity that they were known for, this left me all on my lonesome. Now this wasn't a bad thing really, I was quite content to chill out and I knew a few people around so it wasn't as though I was fully alone. DJ Sporanzo was getting ready to play the last couple of songs of the night and for some reason he chose 'Angels' by Robbie Williams, a strange choice but it led to a moment that will etch itself into my bro-memory bank for ever more.  

We all know the song and can sing along to it, I think it's one of those that's ingrained into the British psyche, along with Sweet Caroline, Come On Eileen and Mr Brightside. Now everyone who knows me can vouch that I am arguably the worlds worst singer, something I have never tried to hide but for some strange reason the stage called me that night, just as it did for several other random people. People I never saw again, we linked arms, we sang at the top of our lungs, we hugged at the end and then went our separate ways. It was a beautiful moment of pure broness, a group of people who obviously hadn't got lucky, had been left alone and needed a group environment to express there love for Robbie. It was a nothing moment for nearly everyone else in that club that night but for me it will always hold a little special place in my memories. Rather randomly about 20 years later the same song played in a pub in London and Kevin and me joined in with another random group of lads to sing it loud and proud and just as badly as previously, reminding me of that day, again hugs were given at the end and I never saw them again after that night, though a round of whiskeys was drunk between the lot of us!

The second was one was back in secondary school and I'd been selected randomly to play against a team of students from Eastern Europe, somewhere in the former Yugoslavia I think, but I can't be sure, after all it was a long time ago. All we got told was that they had been involved in a war based scenario and had been sent over to try and forget the horrors that they had seen. We played them in our old sports hall because of the atrocious weather outside and proceeded to have an excellent game against them, physical in the right ways, a lot of skill on show, more from them it has to be said but there was a language problem, they didn't speak English we didn't speak their language but at the end we all came together, again hugs were given, fist bumps. It was almost as though we were on a diplomatic mission and the brocode came to the front, for that glorious hour and a half we were equal. It didn't matter what our histories were, it didn't matter that we were so very different. We were brothers in arms for that time and had all the respect in the world for each other for nothing other than talent on a football pitch.

The third one was a bit different, and it involved a sheep, more specifically a little lamb who had got stuck in a fence near the youth hostel me and a friend were staying in near Buxton in the Peak District. The poor little thing had gotten it's legs stuck in the wire fence and was making a hell of a racket. A  group of us had seen this and proceeded to try and help. We inched closer the lamb becoming more agitated by the minute, trying to come up with a plan on how to release it, we tried loosening the wire around the leg, but due to the barbs on it, it was virtually impossible. We looked at digging the post up but this was a no go as it was a concrete pole. A mini tool kit was sourced from a fellow hostel stayer which bought more men into the equation and luckily there were some wire cutters in there which did the job, the lamb becoming free in a few minutes to a large cheer. Beers were passed around a camp fire started, marshmallows were located and stuck on the end of twigs to roast. Then it proceeded into a drunken night when a quick trip to the local shop and a few bottles of vodka and whiskey were bought and soon consumed late into the night. The lamb forgetten in the drunken haze but a group of men that never met again but spent one glorious night together making memories.

So to bro or not to bro. I've had bromances, I've been part of teams, but I'm also part of the larger circle of bro's that is worldwide and I'm not sure it the girls can say there is an equivalent. Yes the above stories are my own personal ones and I'm sure that many men out there have had similar one off events in there lives that they can point to that have the same deep meaning to them. I know I look back on the incidents above and smile, every time I hear Angels I think back to that night, whenever I go past a field of lambs my mind drifts back to the Peak District and that night sitting beside the fire. 

Maybe someone should draw up a list of bro rules.....something along the lines of when a random group of drunken men start singing then you must join in if you are equally as drunk and know the words to the song and can't sing very well......I think I could be onto a winner!