Dribs and drabs

[peterbirks]

I was going to run through the stress tests on the banks, but I'm having such a rough time of it at the moment that I really couldn't give it the attention it derserves. I'm going to treat myself to a Cumberland Pie For One, write this, and then head off to bed wondering how I got myself into such a situation where life is one long rinse-and-repeat of not having fun.

I see that Alex Higgins died today. He came into a betting shop I was working in once -- the Mecca just off Jermyn Street. It was 1977. He wanted to have a grand on a horse and to take the price. A grand was a big bet in 1977, rather than the petty cash than it is today. I guess it would be closer to ten grand today in "value" (where "value" equals "Birks betting inflation", a completely subjective assessment of how valuable betting money is to Birks). Higgins was with his manager and both were absolutely hammered (this was when pubs shut at 3pm). We couldn't lay the bet at 3-1, so he went round the corner and backed it at 7-2 (the price drifted) with William Hill. It won, as it happens.

Far from being a legend made flesh, Higgins was just a loud Irish drunk, and was egged on by his manager to boot.

When I saw him in a TV series a few years ago, a sad shrunken old man, looking up at the TV and still shouting home the horses for his 20p yankee, I fear that my first reaction was "not such a loudmouth now, are you, mate?"

Higgins was in two classic TV documentaries, and I rather hope that they show the first one again. It could have been called "Loneliness of the long-distance snooker player", marking as it did that period after Pot Black appeared on BBC 2, but before the game really hit the TV highlights. Any money to be made was from hustling, moving from snooker ahall to snooker hall, giving exhbitions and then taking on the best the locals could throw at you -- giving them three blacks start and "just" beating them.

Poker has followed a similar trajectory to snooker when it comes to the media, with Higgins and Stu Ungar following somewhat similar paths, I think.

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BBC2 showed another of the classic Dad's Armys tonight -- an episode I thought was lost. It features Godfrey and his two sisters, an absolutely perfect rendition of Edwardian England surviving long after it had been assumed dead and buried -- right the way down to Godfrey (Arnold Ridley) wearing a tweed three-piece suit (and tie) for tea. Beautiful half-hour's comedy.

One would be tempted to say "they don't make 'em like that any more", but they do, they do. Tom Hollander in "Rev" is magnificent, solely because Hollander makes his character so believable. I think this will one day be seen as one of Britain's classic comedies, assuming it gets another series!

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My Cumberland Pie For One was very nice, TYVM.

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Comments

Other sitcoms do exist

[geoffchall.livejournal.com]

The trick is in recognising that life is rinse-and-repeat, just sometimes with a different shampoo and even with a different hair colour. But the hardcore of get up, eat, live, watch, work, read, sleep is pretty set in stone. Sometimes it's about finding value and worth within those things, although if I could go spend 2 weeks in Vegas, I wouldn't say no. Well, actually I'd say yes, but you don't mind if I spend 10 of the 14 days on the road elsewhere. Still we get to spend a week in Tuscany where none of us have ever been before, so I shouldn't whinge.

Never could stand Dad's Army - I think it's to do with the lack of any sympathetic characters. I disliked them all, except the ones that were pitiful. Certainly I don't see it as the sitcom of genius that a lot of others do. Why does no-one re-show Watching or A Sharp Intake of Breath or Chance in a Million?

Alex

[miltonkeynesman.livejournal.com]

Pete - I guess Mr Higgins was pretty unedifying at times, but at the table nothing less than compelling. Its always thought provoking to try to put yourself into his place and think whether you could have handled the fame, money and temptations and worked out who your real mates were. You would like to think you would have got it right, but I suspect that in those days the agents and managers were less professional in their approach and like in some other sports (boxing, darts ?) when a person such as Higgins comes along the sport isnt prepared for it and in the inevitable media scrum, siren voices can lead you astray. Sure he was responsible for his actions, but some people need more help than others. I would imagine a number of his "mates" have crossed by on the other side in recent times.

Funnily enough I happened to watch the famous frame against Jimmy White (1982 World semi-final ?) on YouTube about 4 weeks ago. It still grips you after all these years, particularly when the cueball gets more & more out of position but he keeps on potting, not at "Hurricane" pace, but still quicker than others. And the crowd were so up for it. Poor old Jimmy, he never stood a chance after that.

Be in touch
Richard

Broadcast Sitcoms

[real-aardvark.livejournal.com]

I watched "Rev" on your recommendation (amongst others, I should add).

'Fraid it doesn't work for me. Part of this is the "set in Spitalfields" bit; part of it is the "Anglicans are funny" bit; part of it is the endless minutes of sheer embarrassment.

The latest episode (Monday?) summarises the embarrassment with

(1) A joke about clitorises, which the vicar can't be told
(2) A pathetic old tramp, who actually is the vicar's best friend, although he doesn't realise that
(3) A "cool" black guy, who wants to get married in the vicar's church, but would actually rather get pissed whilst watching a girl with big tits play pool rahnd the pub
(4) The vicar's wife, who has more Facebook friends than he does
(5..infinity) I managed about fifteen minutes, and decided that getting pointlessly drunk was a better idea. I'm trying to avoid that. In future I'll concentrate on Joan Bakewell criticising the Beeb for not hiring enough women, and then calling them crumpet anyway.

I'm fairly sure there's room for British sitcoms out there, as long as they're (a) funny and (b) not lazy and (c) preferably not based in London. Black Books proves that you can manage (a) and (b) whilst still contradicting (c).

The Rev, sad to say, does not.

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