My late father the boxing and football correspondent Ken Jones met the singer and songwriter Kris Kristofferson in days of wode, ringside in Las Vegas. KK, as Ken called him, was an enthusiastic devotee of the prize fight. They struck up a curious friendship, the compact, sardonic Welshman and the rangy, volatile American. Ken said they 'met in the middle', though none of us could fathom it. They would hook up in London and LA, New York and Vegas, and there was usually the stench of blood. 'Me and Bobby McGee', Kris's composition made immortal by Janis Joplin, was sung by Claire Seaton at the St. Bride's, Fleet Street memorial service of Hugh McIlvanney, fellow sportswriter and Dad's lifelong closest friend. The choice of song was so spectacularly appropriate, I will never forget it. Round and round we go. Seconds out.
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