Characters from then 2 – column

There was quite a reaction to the report about the late Turf. This is about another such character. But with 50 years of motorcycle history, there are quite a few holes in the files. Fortunately, I live very healthy.

Leddy was blessed with a bizarre sense of humour. He was also the kind of Harley rider that gives them very restless nights at The Harley-Davidson Motorcycle Company Benelux. The kind of Harley-Davidson rider that the illustrious factory has not – repeat NOT – wanted to be associated with for decades. His unique sense of humor always made him look a bit damaged at six feet and one hundred and fifty pounds.

At a local hangout, the Cockroach, where the foamy white beer was absorbed as voraciously as the white powder, which does such wonderful things to nasal septums, Leddy kicked open the door of the men's room, uttering the battle cry "NARCOTICS BRIGADE!”.

The bewildered user who had sniffed not only his portion of sugar powder but also his razor blade and pocket mirror in the fright, collapsed in the assertive stress that is so characteristic of coke users. The neutral-looking brothers carried away the tough 150 pound of bones and blood. A satisfied chuckle sounded from behind the bloated bandages. Leddy had a nice touch with them again.

His wrong comments also led to structurally less aggressive environments in bewilderment and aggression. When his Lief gave birth, Leddy, always interested in technology and women, was on top of it when the midwife took needle and thread to stitch his cut Lief. He looked at the short-cropped, compact maternity lady with happy open-mindedness. He took a deep breath and said happily: "just add two extra stitches, that's nice and tight". The maternity lady was one of the assertive kind. She flew at him. Leddy didn't let women hit her and slapped back. The maternity lady stabbed him in the eyes with two fingers and gave him an FC Utrecht knee. The ambulance had to come. For the proud father.

But Leddy's absolute highlight was the move when he and a buddy were chased by the police. At Lunetten, the two chemically intoxicated mischievous boys were zigzagging on their way very quickly and noisily. "Loud pipes save lives." Also at half past two in the morning. As the police car came alongside on the right, Leddy immediately pushed him onto the emergency lane. When the officers got out of their car, Leddy ran to meet them. He screamed, “You must get him! He killed my sister! ”

Then he fell sobbing around the officer's neck. Because a woman. So pleasantly huggable. The police gave a general alarm. And even a very tough criminal Biker has no clear defense against an arrest team that tumbles out of a dark blue Volvo on all sides. Much targeted but meaningful violence ensued. Leddy's mate was handcuffed as Houdini crammed into the Volvo. His pride, his shattered Harley, was left behind and later tossed onto a truck by uninterested salvagers. In the meantime, Leddy had the fun of his life. Because he had had everyone else asleep!

Since we are otherwise with civilized people, I will not tell how his mate finished the story. But Leddy went again in an ambulance to the Utrecht Medical Center.