So we’ve got Rodney – Marsh, of course, who else? – in the nightclub – Tramps, of course, where else? – with George – Best, of course, who else? – and Michael – Caine, of course, who else?
And Caine’s conversation gets around to all the great things Best – now playing with Marsh at Fulham – did at Old Trafford.
The problem arrives when Caine leans across the table and, as Marsh describes it, “with messy fingers”, takes some chips from the plate of Best’s then wife Angela.
At which point Best warns the film star not to do it again or he will give him a slap. At which point Caine takes another chip. At which point Best whacks Caine on the chin and knocks him off his chair.
Amazingly, no newspaper carried this story. But it has now emerged in all its tabloid glory through the publication of Marsh’s autobiography, written with journalist Brian Woolnough, entitled: Rodney Marsh: I was born a Loose Cannon (Optimum, £19.99).
Given Marsh’s opening explanation of the title, such a recollection is exactly what one expects from this book: “How do you describe a Loose Cannon? That’s easy: someone who doesn’t really care about anything except the things they love. Say what you think, do what you believe in and live with the consequences.”
So yes, there are the anecdotes. The 1967 League Cup final, in which Third Division QPR beat First Division West Bromwich Albion despite being 2-0 down at half-time, reached its tipping point with Marsh’s meandering genius of an equaliser. But there were mixed feelings about the glorious victory on the part of his colleague Bobby Keetch who, Marsh reveals, had put £900 on West Brom to win at 4/9 on.
And naturally Marsh recounts the story of how he sabotaged his England career with a remark which the manager, Sir Alf Ramsey, found about as amusing as Argentina. Before the match against Wales at Wembley in 1973, Ramsey told Marsh: “If you don’t work hard then I will pull you off at half-time.” To which Mr Self Destruct apparently responded: “Christ, Alf. At City we normally get a cup of tea and an orange.”
It was the same Mr Self Destruct, many years later, who brought about the end of his career as a Sky TV pundit shortly after the tsunami had caused death and devastation in Thailand when he made a joke that played on the similarity of “tsunami” and Toon Army, the unofficial name of Newcastle’s supporters.
In both cases, he insists, there was no premeditation. The words just came out.
For many observers, Marsh was similarly thoughtless as a player. But for every spectator who cursed his profligacy or self absorption, there were 10 who loved his brilliance and panache.
As Manchester City agonise over an unpredictable midfield/forward talent who might yet be the key figure in them reclaiming the League title for the first time since 1968 – it remains to be seen which way the suddenly articulate Carlos Tevez will jump – this book offers the best account yet of the impact another such talent had on the club as they came desperately close to repeating that triumph four years later.
When Marsh was signed by City towards the end of the 1971-72 season – or rather, as this account mak