Tough Guy: Nettle Warrior 2015

Ghost Squad 2015

How does the time pass so quickly? I’ve barely chiselled the blood, sweat and beers from my pants and suddenly it’s Tough Guy all over again. This time, Nettle Warrior – the summer version, for those who don’t fancy a near-death experience…

For me, the weekend was particularly special because it was the first outing of a full Ghost Squad. It’s one thing to have me, Simon and Will smothered ourselves in warpaint and run around bellowing. (Or drumming for five hours straight, like we did at Mudnificent 7). It’s another thing to have a whole crew dedicated to making the whole Tough Guy experience that little bit more crazy…

But a crew we had! Dan, Aidie, Doug, Al and Sophie all joined Simon and me, and together we brought forth the thunder that has pounds every day in my heart, and in my head.

The weekend started in classic fashion, with bottles of rum, cigars and smoke-ring contests. We sang songs late in the night, in order to ensure that we died and could be reborn. Death is essential to ghostliness. Ask anybody.

Oh and, of course, we took some time out to strolling like badass mother fuckers around the course:



The day itself was harsh. For one thing, I woke up with one of the worst hangovers of my life, made 1000x worse by sleeping on the cold wooden floor of a barn, with the constant barking of dogs. For another thing, it was bitterly cold – as cold as could be expected from a mild Winter Tough Guy, which is about as cold as it gets in this part of the world.

Nevertheless, we drowned our hangovers with coffee and breads, then stormed the Killing Fields to do what we do best: bellow and haul people out of mud.


I’m proud to say that not a single person died on our watch. That said, lots of people dropped out from the cold – which is unusual for a summer event… Who knows what this means for the Winter Tough Guy 2016…

Ed Tuf Flag 2

About the Author
Ed Gamester is a silly man who lives in the United Kingdom. He is the harbinger of Ghost Squad, singer of Gay Bum and author of A Rum Run Awry. He fights, kills and dies for TV and films, and gallivants around the place wrestling, drinking and lifting things for glory and profit. Where Ed treads, there stamp the boots of the Guild. Ed does not wear glasses, but feels this photograph makes him look more intelligent and artistically talented than he is. Feel free to contact him: he is disappointingly affable.

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