ELEVENSES in leafy Cheshire.
The shortbread is out with a few biscuits and Dennis Tueart is graciously sorting the brews. There is a quick debate with the guy who lives two doors down on whether to reach for a decaf teabag or not.
Johnny Marr decides he needs his caffeine and wants a black tea. The founder of The Smiths, and seminal guitarist of his generation, looks at home lounging on his neighbour's sofa, arm draped over the back. These two have been friends for well over a decade, long before Marr moved in eight years ago.
Tueart was Marr's childhood hero, even before that iconic overhead kick when Manchester City beat Newcastle in the 1976 League Cup final. Now they are a volley apart, Marr living on land formerly owned by Colin Bell.
Tueart recounts a special night recently when he saw his pal live at the Apollo on Stockport Road, about a mile from where they often watch City together. Marr defers to the man on his left, the dazzling winger of 1970s City, whenever talk moves to football.
There are moments when Marr transports back to being an 11-year-old standing outside Maine Road waiting for Tueart's autograph. There is still that reverence, that twinkle. It is a unique friendship and a unique experience to share e it with them for a morning. Unique, too, that the pair of them had three first meetings. The last was when Marr had a copy of Tueart's autobiography signed, the first when Tueart amiably signed stuff outside the ground. 'Players used to pull up on the street and walk and then be swarmed by a load of lads,' says Marr. 'I remember some of the players were nice and some were not so nice. Years later, you're thinking "no guestlist for you I don't think so".'
Tueart was president of the Junior Blues and felt he owed young fans his time, although he probably did not bargain for them showing up for a cuppa 50 years later.
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The other first meeting, sandwiched between those, was on a flight from Gatwick in 1994. 'I vaguely remember it,' Tueart says.
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Marr grins. 'You don't, it's fine! We have conflicting stories about it.
'I was coming back from holiday in the Caribbean,' Marr starts. 'There's a delay. We're waiting for the passenger next to me. I'm thinking it's a little old woman, holding everything up. Passenger comes over and f*** me, it's bloody Dennis Tueart.'
Marr stops and leans forward.
'This is true! He plonks down next to me. I'm a bit frazzled I think I used to drink back then! and he looked like he'd just come out of the gym.
'My boyhood hero right there I was telling myself, "don't mention the overhead kick, don't mention the overhead kick". And I just heard myself go, "Bet you're sick of people asking about your overhead kick, aren't you?". Honestly. He grabs his newspaper and goes, "I am a bit, yeah".'
A warm smirk is exchanged.
Tueart had seen Marr in the Hale area before that anyway. Both of them were keen runners and Tueart would jog by Marr's old place.
Marr, a master of self-deprecation, offers that he did not make much of an impression. Neither can nail down how they actually became friends but here we are, a few days before City win their fourth consecutive Premier League title, the two of them thick as thieves.
Marr goes to the West Ham win with Noel Gallagher, Tueart is in the chairman's lounge. They are similar characters, really. Both creative Tueart in sport then business, Marr with strings and both equally inquisitive about the other's passions and stardust.
Both are from council estates, Wythenshawe and Newcastle's east end. When two people click like this, that background has to mean something. When they did their stuff in front of thousands, both say their childhoods gave them a greater appreciation of the responsibility.
'What Johnny does and what I do when you perform, you are living the dream of the people watching you,' Tueart says. 'They see themselves in you.'
Marr nods in agreement. 'I always think with Johnny, when you're writing a song, how do you come up with those lyrics? He's intense about doing it. I've not quite finished his second book, Marr's Guitars how many are there, 160?'
Marr says it's about 130. 'The style of each guitar stimulates lyrics,' Tueart adds.
'And I'm thinking, "wow".'
Marr teases Tueart about the number of questions he asks but admits those constantly fly in both directions and being in their company is like nestling inside a tumble dryer. Marr offers that their vocations his word were simultaneously their calling and shaped their personalities.
They often talk about evolving, evidenced by Tueart's corporate diversity and Marr's back catalogue of wildly successful albums across several bands, while also soundtracking Inception and No Time To Die with composer Hans Zimmer.
'We're both almost hyper,' Marr says. 'Dennis played like his personality, determined, a bit edgy, a bit narky! Don't turn your back on him. A lot of energy and tenacity, a little bit of devilment and style.
'I got Dennis to introduce me once on stage at an event for City. It was quite a big show at the G-Mex. A mate who I've known forever said, "You know what Johnny, I've watched you do all of this stuff over the years but now I'm really impressed". Never mind the Bond film, then.' A smile spreads across Tueart's face.
This interview never really starts. It doesn't involve many questions and those are the best ones. They begin chatting about why so many Scots gravitated to Manchester United, City's opponents in tomorrow's FA Cup final, and the tape just starts rolling.
MARR a winger who played for City's youth team, 'freezing his head off' at training on Hough End Fields has had an Italian friend staying and explains, 'without sounding bitter or biased, sarcastic or snarky' why 'people from London like United'. Tueart discusses how he knows a whole generation of United fans who cannot handle failure and you wonder whether that affliction will take hold of the blue half of the city in years to come.
With 109 goals over two spells,
Tueart is a bona fide City great who, like so many others, fell in love with the area and kept the club in his life.
'I was from a family of hardcore Irish Reds and the rebel, do you know what I mean?' Marr says. 'My best mate, his family were super Blues. He was Colin Bell mad. I started going in 1973, the year before Dennis came. I was hooked straight away. It was brilliant being a Dennis fan. You look out for all these little details, sock tags and everything.
'I don't want to embarrass him he loves it really but fans are like that. You notice whether they wear the shirt in or out, long or short sleeves. Details. How they celebrate. There should always be an element of showmanship.
'Dennis was really subtle. You always used to wave to the Kippax, didn't you? Dead subtle.'
Tueart picks it up. 'I just walked slowly to the wing and when I got near, I'd look up and smile,' he remembers. 'The crowd would go up. They expected it. I wanted to relate to them. That Kippax, packed with 18,000 people, was just fantastic.'
Marr asks the man 14 years his senior if he minds divulging that he used to have his kit tailored. Marr's eyes widen as he explains how proud he is of him.
'It didn't fit,' says Tueart. 'It was a bit wide, a bit long, so I got it taken in. The girls in the laundry room did it. She got the pins out and sorted it.'
Marr beams. 'See what I mean about those little details?' he says. 'Peter Barnes had a style.
Kinkladze had his distinctive way of running. Denis Law, every United fan knows his sleeve was over his knuckle. Iconic is very overused but those sort of moments it's not just a game, is it? It's pop culture.
'I liked the culture, without getting too rosy about it. It was really exciting, slightly terrifying. You'd see lads with no eyebrows because they were into David Bowie, but were acting in an aggressive fashion. It was a quirk of the times.
'You're clocking the clothes, a lot of language you'd not heard. A big part of it was to do with clothes and behaviour. Getting off a train at Lime Street for Liverpool and it being treacherous. Part of being a tribe, I felt that. Villa was tricky, I got chased there. Middlesbrough was terrifying.'
The violence, which Marr wanted no part in, contributed to him falling out of love with the game for a while. Tueart's departure to New York Cosmos in 1978 might have too, but he is enjoying reminiscing.
'You're hearing all about how Liverpool had come up with this casuals style and I'm thinking, "I'm pretty sure it was City fans". I'll tell you one thing it wasn't United fans. I brought some of that into The Smiths, which was unusual for a musician.
'I'm on the Tube once and I've got a jumper on and another jumper around my waist, just to make the point. It's little details, like Dennis with his sock tags, the necklaces on the outside of a crew neck jumper. That to me was dead important. Guitar playing sorts itself out, but wearing the right Cecil Gee jumper that comes from the terraces.
'Anyway, aren't we supposed to be talking about the Cup final? This is how you sold this to me, Tueart. We're like Saint and Greavsie here.'
A WALKING, talking Dennis Tueart encyclopaedia, Marr wants to discuss his mate's role at board level. He has been instrumental as a director and was key in Kevin Keegan's appointment.
He ventures that Tueart never received the credit he deserved for his input in City's move to Eastlands and ensuring it looked like a football arena, not athletics.
'Some of my design features are in the stadium,' Tueart says proudly. 'I wanted a stadium that would work away from matchdays with the function rooms.
'They were going to build buried dugouts. I wanted them raised up so the manager had a choice. You can see blinds in the corners to open on a matchday for air circulation.'
Tueart still loves it. He regales a tale of Joe Royle transfer listing Paulo Wanchope wrongly, in his view, after a heated row and how he rues the decision not to extend a loan for Albert Riera, instead signing DaMarcus Beasley.
He is reminded of the purple leather coat hanging upstairs, which he wore when signing for City from Sunderland. 'Every so often, I ask him to get it out,' Marr says. 'Jay-Z or Kanye West wouldn't be able to pull this s*** off.'
The gatherings in their road, which Marr affectionately calls Stella Street, must be some affairs. 'I hung out with Sergio Aguero a little bit,' he says. 'He was isolated, but was such a quiet guy that it didn't really matter.'
Nathan Ake 'modest, polite' is down the way. Across the road, Paul Pogba was spotted performing wheelies. 'His demeanour was like a 14-year-old, but with 50 grand in each earlobe!' Marr says. 'Really nice guy.'
Vincent Kompany is close. Past and present include Alisson, Nick Pope, Ben Mee, Fabian Delph, Manuel Pellegrini and Phil Jones. Roy Keane regularly goes through on his daily walks.
'None of them have Colin Bell's plot though, have they?' Marr says. 'For me, it was either Bell's or Dennis Tueart's.'
JOHNNY MARRTHE SMITHS GUITARIST SMASH HITS: This Charming Man and There Is a Light That Never Goes Out ALBUMS SOLD: More than 4million
DENNIS TUEARTMAN CITY AND SUNDERLAND LEGEND SMASH HIT: Scored City's winner in 1976 League Cup final RECORD BUY: Was City's £275k record signing in 1974
