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Anorak | Tuffer’s Luck

Tuffer’s Luck

by | 11th, July 2005

‘WHENEVER TV runs out of its own heroes, it takes them from other walks of life.

‘Heyyyy’

It’s now hard to think of Dr Robert Winston, the expert on human fertilisation, doing anything without a camera crew filming him.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Hart, but you can’t start your IVF programme until 2006,” says the moustachioed Tom Selleck of the labour wards.

“I can fit you in when Strictly Dancing with Pets series II ends and just before I take over as team captain on the new A Question of Ethics game show.”

Gordon Ramsay may well be a terrific chef, but you’re more likely to get him to cook you a meal if you avoid his expensive restaurants and agree to be sworn at on the telly.

But TV is a cruel master. Unless you’re the perennial Del Boy or that good egg Delia Smith, you’ll soon be usurped by some new bright young thing and thereby reduced to appearing on reality TV shows or Today with Des and Mel, modern TV’s equivalent of the little white dot.

What happens after TV has finished with these experts in childcare, cooking, cleaning, poo examining, or whatever it was that brought them to the attention of TV execs looking for “talent”, involves at least one of the following:

1. They can return to their pre-telly trades, and so run the risk of being perceived as has-beens if they’re no longer on the telly it must because they aren’t any good, or they’re dead.

2. They can die.

3. They can retire to the provinces, enjoying fame on a village scale until Through The Keyhole comes knocking at the door of their barn conversion near Hastings.

4. They can hang on in there by agreeing to appear in adverts.

In short, you can be John Noakes, who swapped the Blue Peter ship for a yacht in Majorca, or you can be Phil Tufnell.

The advice is to go with Noakes. I’ve always found it hard to dislike Tuffers, but recently he’s encouraged me to give it my all.

And not trying in that way the laconic former England cricketer has of giving it a go, but really getting into what sportsman call ‘the zone’.

So there I was trying to get in touch with my inner layabout with a session in front of daytime TV when up pooped loveable old Tuffers.

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Posted: 11th, July 2005 | In: Celebrities Comment | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink