Who are ya? Ian France

In readiness of the 3rd Round FA Cup day and Brighton’s trip to Alan Curbishley’s (an ex Seagull by the way) new Hamsters, I thought I would share with you Ian France’s life story.

Conceived at a gay pride rally in the old town of Brighton, Ian grew up on the seaside coast in a loving if not unusual arrangement. He was shy at school and soon inherited the nickname of Shaky, not because of his rock n roll dancing abilities but because he was a bit nervous, particularly around the priests at his local Sunday school.

Francey played football and rugby at the school but soon realised he was built for watching not participating and kept it in the family way by becoming a regular at Brighton & Hove Albion’s Goldstone Ground where he became particularly partial to Peter Ward in his tight shorts.

Upon leaving school, his career’s teacher told him that he had a penchant for spreadsheets, and Ian decided that insurance was to be his vocation and he joined the Sun Alliance in Horsham, where he learnt all about buying facultative reinsurance and drinking.

He then moved up to the big smoke to find the streets paved with gold and the rather unusual sight of girls, something he was only previously used to see playing in blue and white stripey shirts on a Saturday afternoon.

Francey decided to go against his parents wishes and married the lovely Sarah, although both of his Dads did attend the wedding. He has now added 2 girls to the Brighton clan and can often be found kicking the football around his garden sporting his NOBO emblazoned Brighton shirt and Steve Foster headband, with the pet cat watching whilst being tied by rope to the washing line. Don’t ask me about that bit, but clearly the France’s are not pet lovers.

Francey has been at AIG all the time I have known him, and is actually quite senior despite first impressions. My favourite Shaky story was the day he went out for lunch and despite disapproval from colleagues insisted on coming back to the office to finish off one of Brian Rutter’s quotes, reason enough apart from the fact that Ian couldn’t stand up. He was so trollied that some of the AIG boys had to put him in an Evacuchair to wheel him out of the office and down to London Bridge with his legs in the air and his fringe flopping all over the place.

They got him onto the train to Brighton, where he threw up a number of times before getting to his stop still completely wasted. No taxi’s would take him so a local tattooed builder (rather sexy according to Ian later) stuck him on the back of his open sided scaffold lorry and drove him home.

Ian’s (now ex) friends then rang the bell, lent him on the door and legged it around the corner to watch Mrs France give him a good hiding. He was subsequently banned from going to football for a while.

Despite all of that, Ian is one of the nicest blokes I know and was also one of our early N&R managers although his actual prize fund is exactly £0 he did help them lift the Team Challenge Trophy last season.