"CAN YOU DIG IT?"

That's what the black 'messiah' leader says at the pow-wow gathering of the gangs to kick off the cultish Warriors movie.

Then the saviour gets shot: pandemonium, the sneaky whitey assassin points to the Warriors - "It wuz dem, it wuzza warriors".

(Actually, everyone pronounces it more like Woyers, which I found cool at the time.)

Same as I totally envied top Woyer Michael Beck's arrow-head nose, mine being such a shapeless squishy protuberance that I was convinced no babe could fancy me (cf Beckers over there with a hot honey clinging on for dear life).

But I digress (BID, hereon).

So, suddenly Les Ws have to step lively back to Coney Island with all these freakish murderous other gangs on their trail.

Reason I'm yammering on about this old movie is that no sooner do I comment on my phone call to Sir Jeffrey of Bezos Studios with my brill idea for "Warriors vs Joker Redux" (luncheon included) than one of my devoted readers sends me a nostalgic link to the movie.

1979. I was 33 and yet I remember being excited by it like a 14-yr-old.

For god's sake, I was a Titan PR hack of the UK book biz: Saul Bellow, Gunther Grass, Vidal, Piers Read, Tom Sharpe, the Clay-flooring Henry Cooper, all under my belt.

Member of all the clubs, habitué of Muriel's, drinking mate of Francis Bacon and Tom 'Doc Who' Baker (remind me to tell my Bacon/Baker story) ... what was I doing thrilling to *this* kind of flick?

I found the white-faced Baseball Clubbies the most sinister, the Lizzies totally hot and sexy - and all that running  - dude! - I think I quit the Gauloises for a whole three days after that, just in case I had to hotfoot my way out of a jam. Whew!

I have a terror of being attacked by someone with a baseball bat or axe handle.

Dept of BID: When my American pal Alex Baggio (outta Pittsburgh PA) came to stay with me - big guy, used to do his katas each morning - we were drinking once over in Balham and three locals decided to pick a fight over the weird accent he was stuck with, that and the fact that he was wearing some rattle-snake skin bracelet.

Goaded too far, he suggested we move inside at which the trio rose from their seats and one of them produced a knuckle-duster.

Al had been complaining about the loose leg on his chair that kept pitching him sideways. As he got up, he picked up the chair and broke it over the table to get the leg, then he pitched into them, whacking and kicking and head-buttiing and then whacking again when they made to get up. Every move economical and very very hard

The guv'nor came whizzing out and told the three known trouble-makers to fuck the fuck off.

Then he turned to Al: "'n you can piss the piss off ahter here."

Al didn't look too phased, all inna day's heat.

"What?" he asked.

The publican looked at him - I mean, 3 agin 1, what was he going to say?

"You. Out!"

Al looked round at me with exaggerated shrug. We were in the biergarten, how much outer could we be?

"Finish your drinks and fuck the fuck off. We don't like troublemakers round here."

One of the regulars started to say that it'd been them that started it and there were three but the guv'nor gave him a 'look'.

Left there and then.

'Fuck, Al', I said as we walked away.

"What? Don't you guys know how to pick a fight in this country?"

And he was the gentlest bloke I knew. I guess the mean streets of Pittsburgh are a bit like South Dakota. BID.

I must watch the movie again - and no, I won't comment on the tight-curled Robertson coiffures on some of the valiant warriors.

But isn't that funny? An off-hand comment, throwaway name drop, and next thing you know a memory out of left field. God bless the Warrrior-wide Web.

Fight for your life: Fun Limpbiz Kit pré with all the best scenes.

Thanks for reminding me - Tom Baker in The Colony Room Club with Francis doing his generous thing and going round with the champagne offering it to stranger spongers. Muriel's had a TV hanging from the ceiling, volume down, no distraction. One day it was showing a Dr Who episode and there was Tom, en-coiled by trademark scarf, so we paused our drinking to mock and jeer and take the piss.

Francis - "That looks like you"

Tom - "It is me you c**t"

FB: "What are you  doing up there?"

TB: "See that? Twenty million people watch it world-wide.

I bet twenty-five thousand people wouldn't know a fucking Francis Bacon if you shoved one up their arse".