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Cricketing lookalikes
By Will 2 years ago, mid-October, Comments
Patrick is doing grand things with his blog. He’s proving that a broadsheet correspondent can react and adapt to the slightly more relaxed format, all the while maintaining his own style across both. Other papers and large media establishments have adopted blogs with worrying bandwagonnery, forgetting that it remains an editorial tool; the best blogs are well written, be that by a fan or an editor. The emphasis really must remain on quality content, not just the fanfare of joining in the party (and putting up your hand). I am as guilty as most of writing bullshit, as the rest of this post perfectly demonstrates - but at least I’m a consistent waffler!
If you haven’t read his blog yet, do.
He asked me for some lookalikes (see his post) and the only one I could come up with, off the top of my cranium, was Ned Flanders and John Buchanan. I’m surprised the Barmy Army haven’t cottoned onto it yet; perhaps they will this winter with cries of “Okily-dokily-doo”. In fact, as depressingly cheery Ned is, I’d rather him at a press conference than most coaches.
“Hididdily-ho, paradise dwellers”
“Hello, John. Happy with today’s performance, or do you feel you’re perhaps a hundred runs short?”
“Hot diggity! Indeedily-doodily-do!”
“Yyyyep, moving on…”
Incidentally, “Ned’s three Cs” are: Clean living, chewing thoroughly, and a daily dose of vitamin “church”. Loser.
So - your lookalikes, please.
Incidentally I’ve never really bought the Simpsons thing. I think it’s a bit like Marmite, but not nearly as tasty. I was further put off when I heard Richard, of Richard and Judy “fame”, said it was the best thing since sliced bread; he really is a twit. And continuing this tremendously pointless ramble, I saw him not long ago in a dingy pub in London. He double-parked his Jag outside, rushed in with a face like thunder and stormed to the gents. No sooner had I alerted the entire establishment of a TV personality in our midst - and Richard Madely - than he sprinted out again and flew off in his car.
Here endeth the waffle.
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