My newest favourite thing: Mascots

There’s something strangely endearing about the sight of a grown man dressed up in a fluffy mascot costume clapping his hands and covering his eyes with oversized hands. It’s a Knockout realised the humorous potential and featured many comedy capers as folk with giant feet raced each other over obstacle courses collecting water in buckets, while Stuart Hall collapsed in hysterics.



When I worked at a bookshop in the children’s department, there were plenty of character costumes to wear. I remember once being crammed into a Mr Happy suit with a hangover – it wasn’t pleasant and the darling little kiddies kept poking me in my giant eyes and pulling my fingers going, ‘There’s a person in there.’

I did, however, fare rather better than our deputy manager who once ventured out into St Anne’s Square in the fat puffin costume without a minder. This probably went down a treat in West Wombletown or some such, but the inner city Manchester kids soon knocked her to the ground, pulled off the head (of the costume that is) and rolled her around the cobbles. Her orange tight-clad legs were wiggling out of the bottom of the costume complete with webbed feet, but she couldn’t stand up as she became an impromptu football. She wasn’t hurt although the costume (and her pride) was dented, but I’m afraid to admit I may have been doing a Stuart Hall impersonation of my own.

And now it’s an intense few days for the English Premier League so I am watching hours of football – most of their teams have mascots, and in fact there is a hotly contested annual mascot race. Liverpool have a Liver Bird, which stands to reason, and lots of teams (Chelsea; Aston Villa; Reading; Bolton; Middlesborough; Blackburn) have lions, which seem appropriately large and fearsome. Manchester City’s Moonchester is oddly cool and West Ham’s Herbie the Hammer is frankly odd.

Burnley have Bertie Bee. Him Outdoors once bought me a cuddly Bertie Bee – he was very proud of himself for giving me this gift. Bertie is really not to be messed with and is actually a former rugby league player, as a streaker in a match against Preston found to his disadvantage.



I actually really like Gunnersaurus – he stands in the tunnel and shakes hands with all the players when they get off the bus. The Arsenal players often give him a hug or a slap on the back too, while the away team look at him with bewilderment. I can understand their bemusement; it seems an odd thing to do to dress up in a hot furry costume and pretend to be one of the lads, but if anyone will, the English will. Long live their peculiarities.

Olympics: Disappointing ending

It's really no secret that I have loved these Olympics, and followed the antics and achievements of the athletes like a spectacular drama.

But I'm afraid to say that the finale was ultimately a let-down. Despite all the hoopla of the closing ceremony and the handover to Britain involving a double decker bus, David Beckham and some umbrellas, the events of the last day were all a bit ho-hum.

True, it kicked off with the men's marathon which was remarkable for its pace and style in that heat and humidity, but where were the rest of the athletics? I'm sure that the final day used to involve proper events and baton twirling - sorry, relay races. Now the baton twirling is not ironic, and represented by rythm gymnastics, with handball and volleyball finals also being decided. Add to this the spectacle of water polo and the whole thing is a bit of a damp squib.

So I am left looking ahead to the prospect of the next games in London. I really hope that we will dispense with the lavish ceremony and cut to the parade of nations, a couple of speeches and then everyone is entertained by a quick burst of morris dancing and a couple of stand-up comedians, and it's off down the pub - bring your own tankard. We could save a good thirty million pounds right there. Maybe we could plough it into sporting organisations or, and here's an idea, give it to the health and education systems!

I have heard a rumour that darts will be in an as exhibition sport - now that's pretty British. Let's not stop there. Why don't we include cheese rolling, fell running and pint racing? This has to be better than cricket, golf and rugby which are some of the suggestions for sports to be included. They have their own major, and highly paid professional, tournaments. They don't need to be part of our games.

I have also heard that baseball and softball will be dropped, and if there's any justice, beach volleyball will go the same way. If we must include it, why don't we make them play on Brighton beach with its not-so-soft shingle and it's freezing water? They'll rue those skimpy costumes then, although that would probably please the lecherous lads (the only people who actually watch this 'sport') even more.

And if we must have a closing ceremony, let it be along the lines of It's a Knockout. The athletes could race up and down on tricycles wearing comedy clown feet and royal family masks. They could play their jokers, wade through blancmange and carry buckets of coloured water with holes in the bottom. And Stuart 'As a Hatter' Hall could guffaw throughout proceedings. Now we just have to start lip-synching and crushing protests. I'm looking forward to it already!