Now Cask Marque's got the Jolly Roger

Roger Clayson, the larger-than-life super salesman who's got beer in his blood and pubs in his soul, has moved from Adnams to Cask Marque. Andrew Pring reports

Red moleskin trousers. Pink shirt. Check jacket. Silk pocket handkerchief. Mobile glued to ear. Pint of ale in hand. Beard flecked with foam. Eyes twinkling. Loud.

It could only be Roger Clayson, the larger-than-life Adnams director of sales who retired last month and now takes up the same position at Cask Marque alongside Paul Nunny, the man who first brought him into the cask business 21 years ago.

One of the trade's true legends, the charismatic Clayson has more yarns spun about him than probably any other living figure. Only John Young in recent times has attracted so much warmth and affection, and occasionally, it must be said, exasperation. The stories are legion of the times he's entered the room like a whirling dervish and instantly everything's up in the air. "Being Rogered" is how people describe the effect.

Yet however many stories there are about him — falling asleep at dinners, phoning Adnams' management accountant from the loo and asking for more toilet roll, treating his company car like a dodgem —

everyone comes back to the crucial fact that Clayson has truly done the business for regional real ale.

His old boss Andy Wood heads the fan club. "Roger has been fantastic for us. He's sold thousands and thousands of barrels for us. I'm eternally grateful to him." Rivals also pay unstinting tribute. Greg Williams of Greene King, Simon Robertson-Macleod of Fullers and Tim Sprake of Wells & Young's sum it up for their peers when they agree he's been "a fantastic champion for real ale".

Funny, then, to recall that for the first 20-odd years of his working life, he was selling soft drinks for Coca-Cola and Schweppes. For much of that time, though, he was selling it to regional brewers and his background is firmly rooted in the pub world.

"He was born in a pub, and he's never left," says Greg Williams.

Not strictly accurate, but it captures the essence of the man. And it's certainly true that his father was running a pub when Clayson first sniffed the air, the Bedford Arms in Reading. Though a semi-professional cricketer for Surrey at one stage, Clayson senior had followed in the footsteps of his grandfather and great grandfather and run pubs, not always successfully, for years.

Hard to believe now, but Clayson's health as a child was not good. Although he started working with his dad, his future wife thought it would be better if he joined the local soft drinks wholesalers Cantrell & Cochrane. Roger had met the local managers through being at school with the C&C managing director's daughter Jenny Horler (cousin to James Horler of La Tasca fame). So from 1967 to 1988, Clayson learnt his craft as a salesman, all in the on-trade and moving into national sales in 1978 before taking over the regional brewer accounts for Coca-Cola in 1981. "I started meeting some interesting people."

He was intrumental in setting up the lavish Coca-Cola incentive trips, which took him and his customers round the world three times to places such as Hong Kong and Barbados. But the fun came to an abrupt stop when Coca-Cola and Schweppes merged in 1987 and he missed out on the senior role he wanted. "I threw my toys out of the pram and behaved like a spoilt kid. I was bloody difficult to manage."

News of his dissatisfaction came to the attention of friends in the beerage, and Paul Nunny, then sales and marketing manager at Adnams, beat other brewers to get Clayson on board. "He was the only salesman on those Coke trips who truly looked after his customers. It really impressed me."

The move nearly didn't happen though. Adnams boss Bernard Seagram-Daly interviewed him and thought — wait for it — he was too quiet and had no personality. "I was trying to be serious and business like," Clayson explains.

Seagram-Daly had no one at the new CCE-Schweppes set-up to ask for a reference, so Clayson suggested Tim Bridge at Greene King, whom he'd worked closely with over the previous years. That swung it — despite of, or perhaps because of the big deal he had recently done with Bridge. Clayson describes it as "one of the two best deals I ever did." After all-day negotiations, he got the Greene King boss to kick out Pepsi and take Coke for three years. "I was cock-a-hoop. It was late when we finished and I drove all the way back to Coke HQ in St Albans just to boast about it to the boys in the pub."

Many years later, Bridge told Clayson "You'd have never got away with that if we'd had the professional buyers that we have now!"

The other best deal, incidentally, was when Jonathan Adnams "at his best knockabout self" challenged him in 1997 to get Broadside into every distribution channel in the on-trade. "I finally pulled it off in 2001."

There were many other great moments at Southwold. The radical re-branding exercise Adnams undertook in 1997-98 that led to its modern image was one of them. "That was huge, and so exciting. It was better than sex." Clayson recalls the sparks flying skywards as he, Jonathan Adnams, chairman Simon Loftus and others wrestled to capture the company's core values in one brand image. "It was electric being there, seeing practical, down-to-earth Jonathan argue it with Simon, who could be away with the fairies."

There were some bad moments too, the worst "when Tesco delisted us at Christmas two years ago.

Luckily Andy Wood got us back in 10 days later. "

There've also been bad times for the trade. He's scathing about politicians — "put them all in front of a firing squad" — particularly those who waved retailers onto the circuit and spawned binge drinking. "As an industry, we've been endlessly beaten up over something the politicians created, a headless monster in our towns."

Reflecting on his 21 years at Adnams, Clayson sums it up characteristically. "It's been a laugh." Naturally, he's seen some big changes in his role. "Sales people need to respond much quicker than ever before, and be much more structured and much more organised. And you need to be able to type!"

He still gets a great kick from dealing with his old customers. "In many instances, I've still been selling to people I sold soft drinks to — Fred West, David Bruce, Chris Holmes, and Chris Hutt."

He accepts there are different types on the pub scene these days. "But you still need a personality, and I think it's still an industry of big hitters — people like Roy Boulter of S&NUK/Heineken, Tim Sprake, Greg Williams and Simon Robertson-Macleod. We're salesmen who know how to structure a deal. We listen to our customers' needs and we're great at relationships."

That said, he accepts things are changing. "In some areas, you do need a new approach. I'm getting past my sell-by date and I've got mould on the edges. My successor at Adnams, Rob Flanagan, has been very good to work with in my hand-over and I know he'll do a great job."

He's convinced the late 1960s to late 1980s was "the golden age" for pubs. "They were mostly better then than now. Retail standards were higher, more money was spent on the pubs." But he's equally convinced the golden age for beer "has to be from the mid-1990s to the present day. The diversity and the quality and the technology make this the golden age for cask beer."

Clayson has more than played his part in creating this golden age, and he'll be doing his best to ensure no sun sets on the epoch in his new role at Cask Marque.

Though sad to be leaving Adnams — "I'll really miss it, there are some lovely people there. I was privileged to work there" — he's relishing his new challenge. "Everywhere you look, there are opportunities for cask."

The prospect of signing up more regional companies to Cask Marque excites him. And it's obvious full retirement would never suit this particular dervish. "My wife wasn't too keen on the idea of having me at home all the time either!"

The real-ale brigade will thank "her indoors" for that. They all look forward to being Rogered for