And Good Morning to you, Alan!
I enjoyed reading your post about the old days of quaffing. It's true, though, I hardly saw anything naughty in the pubs around Summer Lane back in the sixties - yes, there'd be the occasional argument, or a drunk who required escorting off the premises, but the gaffers were up to it, and as your rightly say the good gaffers stopped trouble almost before it started. As time went on, probably the fear of being charged with assault prevented pub gaffers from stopping trouble in the old-fashioned, time-honoured way. The gaffer at The Birmingham Arms in Digbeth, where we went for jazz, kept a cricket-bat behind the bar and I saw him use it once! My uncle, who kept The Britannia on Lichfield Rd, after which The Antelope in Sparkhill, always had a very large alsatian to keep the peace. His last dog, Laddie, was a pussy-cat behind the bar, but when Uncle gave him the word woe betide anyone who decided to take him on! When I was a youngster my dad said he saw that dog clear the bar at The Antelope. Awesome!
Sad to say, I rarely use pubs these days - they don't have the atmosphere of the old-time boozers. In fact, my missus says I've become an old-time boozer myself!
Look after yourself,
G