Television
Calm down
James Delingpole
0 ne of the things that annoys me most in the world at the moment is that Nike poster. The one that goes 'Historians. It's B-E-C-K-H-A-M'. On several occasions now, I have nearly crashed my car as a result of the fit of apoplexy it induces whenever I drive past. I mean, was the copywriter who dreamt it up a total spaz- moid moron? Or was he a total spazmoid moron?
Just in case you don't find it as annoying as I do, here's why you should. 1. Beckham is spelt exactly as it sounds. It doesn't have a silent Q in it or anything. So why would any historian need to be told how to spell it? 2. England aren't going to win the World Cup. So why would any historian wish to waste their time chronicling the names of a bunch of losers? 3. And this is poetic justice. If Beckham's really so ruddy special, how come he wasn't selected for the game against Tunisia?
I also get quite annoyed by that McDon- ald's ad where the kid behind the counter wangles Alan Shearer's autograph by pre- tending to check whether his signature's in order. Why doesn't he just go, 'Excuse me, Mr Shearer, I've been trying to get your autograph several times now. So would you mind awfully ... ?' In fact, I hate all foot- ball ads full stop, because of their galling assumption that we care so much about football football football that we wouldn't be remotely interested in buying any prod- uct that didn't somehow relate to it.
There. Now I've got that off my chest I Did you remember to put the teenager out?' can make my terrible confession. I've actu- ally been watching quite a bit of the World Cup of late and some of it has been quite interesting. Not that interesting, obviously, because otherwise I'd be downstairs watch- ing the England-Tunisia game which is going on live even as I write this piece. But definitely interesting enough for me to get maybe three-quarters of a column out of it.
One of the things I like is the opportuni- ty it offers for inane armchair punditry. That goal that the plucky young Cameroo- nian scored after dribbling the ball from the half-way line right through the Austrian defences, for example. Truly amazing, that was. Clinical! For my money, the goal of the Cup so far. Right up there with that incredible goal by Mohammed Al Towlhed for Saudi Arabia four years ago. Which makes me think that if I ever got tired of this writing game, I'd make a damned good replacement for Jimmy Hill or that Scottish bloke who looks like a cross between Paul Whitehouse and Alan Partridge.
There are plenty of other things I like about the World Cup: annoying serious fans with questions like 'Why do foot- ballers always looks so cross when it's only a game, after all?'; being able to watch tele- vision and read at the same time, knowing that if you miss anything exciting, there'll soon be half a dozen action replays; shout- ing a lot; and, best of all, being freed of the burden of watching much television because there's hardly anything else good on at the moment.
I did make a point of catching Ian His- lop's NHS documentary Cradle To Grave: Pennies from Bevan (Channel 4, Sunday), however, because his previous series on the Church and education were so incredibly illuminating. His latest was too.
Like most people who feel they deserve to be treated privately but can't afford it, I do love to whinge about the NHS. Why, when I queue to see my doctor, must I hang out with lots of smelly, diseased, unemployed people when I contribute so much more to the nation's coffers than they do? And how dare the receptionist be so rude when I'm paying the fat cow's salary? But Hislop's programme could have left even evil fascist bastards like me in absolutely no doubt that the NHS was a damned good thing.
Did you know that in the 1930s the national child mortality rate was one in 15? Or that dental care was so inadequate and costly that in the Black Country girls would have all their teeth taken out before they got married so as to spare their husbands future expense? And there I was thinking that the Monty Python 'I were brought up in a shoebox' sketch was satire.
Perhaps the most moving testimony to the NHS's achievements came from the doctor who described how, in the six months following its inception, he treated dozens of women for prolapsed uteruses. They'd hitherto kept their agonising condi- tion a secret (quite hard when a football- sized lump of your insides is hanging between your legs) because they'd decided it was too minor a complaint to justify the expense!
Two more things before I go. 1. The introduction of canned laughter to Frazier. Why. Why. Why? Those of us who watch the programme are quite capable of getting the jokes without their being flagged by braying Americans. 2. I've just seen the action replay of Scholes's goal against Tunisia. So take back what I said about England being sure to lose the Cup.
Previous page
