My Night In The Cells!

In the early hours of 28th October 2006, I was sitting in my house minding my own business having done nothing wrong when three policemen came to the house and, without even giving me the opportunity to discuss the matter with them, arrested me for alleged assault.

I was taken to the Sandymoor Custody Suite, processed like a piece of baggage by world-weary people with no interest in justice or fairness, just procedure. I had to hand over the contents of my pockets, my belt, my shoelaces and was then locked up overnight until the complainant could sober up enough to be interviewed!

It was quite an experience. On the basis that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I suppose it added to life's rich tapestry. In a custody suite, the light is left on all night, your only comfort is a thin mattress on a concrete shelf, there is the constant shouting of other "guests", a slamming of doors, plus the worry of the situation you find yourself in. Sleep is impossible unless you're drunk or drugged up. So the next time you see a mugshot on tv or in the papers and think, "he looks a bit rough", just consider what he's been through before he's been photographed!

When I was eventually interviewed, the officer already realised that they had blundered. My on-off girlfriend Tina (not her real name) had alleged that I had held her down for 20 to 30 minutes and battered her constantly. She was unmarked apart from a few self-inflicted bruises. My hands showed no signs that they had been used to strike anyone. She had made at least 100 similar accusations over the previous three years. She was known to the police as a serial false complainer, including the officers (or "Muppets In Uniform" as I referred to them in the interview to the amusement of the interviewing officer) who arrested me.

As the officer himself observed, I'm over 15 stones and a powerlifting champion, Tina was about half my weight. If I'd hit her once, she'd have been in no state to go anywhere or make any accusations. She'd be out cold! You'd have thought the muppets that arrested me could have figured that out for themselves.

After they decided that there was no charge to answer, I was subjected to the humiliation of being fingerprinted, photographed and dna'd. I thought that was what they did to criminals, but no - it's every person who is arrested, irrespective of whether they are charged or not. You feel like a criminal even after you have been released.

To give one example of Tina's history of false allegations, some time previously she had made three calls to the police within a 36 hour period saying that she was at my property "being battered". On each occasion police visited my property, searched it to check that she wasn't battered and tied up somewhere, and checked my hands for bruising. When, on the third occasion, I started getting a bit ratty about the constant intrusion on the basis of unwarranted accusations, I was threatened with arrest. She had made the calls from the far side of Warrington, at least 10 miles away.

I have no intention of itemising all Tina's false complaints, but she was a serial 999 caller who called every time she got drunk. On one occasion her next door neighbour was allegedly murdering his wife. Five police units arrived to find him on the pavement talking to his father while she sat indoors watching tv! She called the fire brigade out when she tried to microwave an egg and it exploded. She called the ambulance service when she messed herself... And I must have been accused of battering her close to 100 times. Do you get the picture?

The total incompetence of the police in dealing with the situation I found myself in has left a profound mark on my attitude towards the police force. For every officer that uses common sense (and there were several that did) there were another three who were so hooked on procedure and blinkered in their approach that it beggared belief. When I asked them, on the third visit in 36 hours, how often they planned to keep coming and searching my house on the basis of false allegations, the response was "every time an allegation is made". "The allegations are clearly false," I retorted. "What are you going to do about the person making the allegations?" "Nothing, we don't want to discourage people from contacting the police if they feel they have a complaint..."

I was always a strong police supporter, but my experiences have seriously changed that. There seem to be far more jobsworths than there used to be, but maybe that's just me getting older and officers getting younger!

But what was I doing with a creature such as Tina? Well, she wasn't always like that. Quite the contrary. And that will be the subject of another post shortly.

And how can I remember the date so precisely? Well, the North West Bench Press Championship was scheduled for 28th October 2006, and I was due to defend my title. It had been postponed only days earlier, otherwise I would have been robbed of the opportunity to participate in one of the major lifting events in my calendar. Not something you forget in a hurry!