I’ve been trying to come to term with your passing for weeks and it’s not getting any easier. Every time I see a photo or clip of you smiling and being outrageous I can’t help but laugh and get emotional at the same time.
I remember the times at the Stretford Banqueting Suite, when I’d come after work on a Friday Singles night. I’d get dragged up to sing Champagne Supernova after Nicola, Kath, Sam and other uni mates would sing some spice girls song. We’d always end up at Westwood Road, which was a house with an ‘Everyone’s Welcome’ policy.
Working together at the Warwick cafe on match days was hard work but so much fun. Our window would always earn the most money, probably because you’d never let anything go to waste. I remember a couple of times you shouting at me for throwing away a sausage because it fell on the floor and a barm that fell in a tub of soapy water. ‘What are you doing? That’s £1!’ Before getting the sausage, wiping it and putting it back. Your work ethic and competitive nature was clear to see. We would end the day with you driving me back to Uni in Stoke around midnight. How you were bothered was beyond me but again this showed what you would do for a friend.
Memories of the fun we had in the Rose and Crown in Ayia Napa come flooding back. All dancing to ‘stuck in the middle with you’ at the end of the night. And you piling 5 strangers into my car and persuading me to drive to Nissi Beach for beach party resulting in me crashing into a lamppost as we were all pissed! 🤣
The fun we had with Delta. Every team needs a Tansy. The heartbeat of the team. I remember one game we all turned up late for a game against Park Villa who thought they were a professional outfit. Our pre match warm up was a Benson and Hedges and they were in a line going up and down the pitch. Cue Tansy “come on boys knees up”, proper winding them up and getting in their heads. We won 5-1!
I loved your enthusiasm, love for life, energy and you ability to get away with murder because ‘it’s just Tansy isn’t it’. I don’t think I can recall you without a smile. Everything was a joke and a laugh and we were always so immature when meeting up. You loved humiliating people but in a nice way. I remember being in the car with you and you spotted Jemma walking home with her friends. You immediately opened your window and shouted, “Jemma, what did the doctor say about your urine infection?” Followed by that infectious laugh and Jemma shouting , “Stephen!!”
Stevie baby, you will be missed but never forgotten. You have touch so many people’s lives and been a true friend to many.
Sleep tight my friend.
To Jo, Jake, Oliver and Emily. Dot, Nicola and Jemma. We are all here for you all.