the trophy thief
“live from the uncle albert hall’
It’s Halloween, there’s a full moon overhead and a cold chill in the air, it’s the time of year when it’s dark before Neighbours begins and the time when all the daddy long legs come out from nowhere to try and take over the world, with their scare monger tactics. But this year I’m well prepared for their invasion, as I’ve been out and invested in a torch and a rolled up newspaper, so you just let them try and intimidated me and they will face a grizzly end.
Now of course I’m not out trick and treating tonight, for starters, I don’t fit in my batman suite anymore, and I’m fresh out of black bin liners, and to be honest, getting an eleventh month old, out of date Worthals Original only has so much pull and I am 22 now after all maybe it was time to give it up.
But lucky for me, I wasn’t resigned to sitting at home and watching Poltergeist, with my head buried in my little pink blanket, oh no, this year, was different.
You see it was also the biggest showbiz night of the year, The National TV Awards, live and unedited from the Uncle Albert Hall. Every big name in television was going to be there, Simon Cowell, Jeremy Clarkson, Graham Norton, all those cute little Hollyoaks girls, that fat bloke with the really round face from Eastenders, even Jeremy Kyle, although I hope that ones just a rumour, I mean no one really actually likes him do they! (Right nasty bitching, un-educated, spiteful, grumpy, big nose, looking bastard) And I had been asked to be the stage escort.
This was it!!! My first big break in television, I mean, there are only so many hair commercials one can do without the need to progress, and here I was, about to make my first ever appearance on live tele, along with the biggest peeps in the business. It was huge.
I was so excited, I told anyone who would listen, My Mum, Dad, the boys upstairs, even the bloke in the sandwich shop who doesn’t speak much English who makes me my roast beef sandwiches every morning, although I don’t think he really understood what I was trying to convey to him, instead, I just didn’t get any mustard in my sandwich, and I got it on brown bread, with salad, (What was he thinking) of course by this point, I was too excited to worry, so just left it on the kitchen side for the boys to chew on later and I was off to rehearsals all dressed up in my newly acquired Penguin suite, I’d even broke the bank, and treated myself to my first ever Prada shoes, (You could see your face in them you could!!! Worth every penny) Of course now I will just have to eat Bachelors Supernoodels for the forseable future, but at least for tonight only I’d look the part.
The Albert Hall was momentous inside, everyone’s seats was marked out with a big cardboard cut-outs of the famous celebrity that would later don there places for the big performance, there must have been close to a million cameras, “well more than 10”, all swinging round on cranes, with flashing lights everywhere and a massive stage set and of course, no other than Sir Trevor McDonald was up there presenting the show.
I was so so so so excited as I was introduced to the Director for the very first time, nervous about what my actual role as “Stage Escort”, actually entailed.
It turned out my job was to run on stage when the camera cut away to the winners to deliver the trophy to the person presenting the award and then to get back off stage again, before they cut back to the stage. Of course this may sound like and easy job, but let me tell you it wasn’t, for starters I was in a full tuxedo, with my brand new Prada shoes with no grip, and the floor was like an ice rink, so it was hard to stop on the marks without skidding off into the audience, and then I had to turn around and get off again in the best part of 15 seconds, we practiced all afternoon, but eventually of course; I nailed it.
So that was it, the live show awaited. As the Hall started to fill up and people streamed down the red carpet, by this point I was also starving and really wishing I had of just eaten my sandwich.
And it was just at that point about 10 minutes before the show, that the director tapped me on the shoulder, James he said, “We need you to do one more task, we need you to take a spare trophy up to Sir Trev, when we cut away to one of the video clips, then he’s going to talk about it, and in the next clip, we need you to go on stage and collect it”. Fine I said, although we hadn’t rehearsed it. How hard could it be??
So with that, the show started, and everything was going to plan, “I even got a wink off that bird with the red hair from the Xfactor, you know the ones who’s goes out with the dude with the long black hair, swears a lot!!”. I was loving it and so far so good!!!
We were halfway through the live show, when I got the call to take the trophy out to Big Trev, but after I was busting for the loo, so I dashed off really quickly to the bathroom; when, as I tried to wash my hands and leave I swear I got attacked by a swarm of Daddy long legs’es and I swear they attacked me first and I was totally unarmed.
Anyway by the time I finally made it back to the stage I was slightly flustered and the runner who was queuing me said to get ready to go back on and collect the trophy, but of course, as I was in such a rush, I herd that as, “James off you go my son”, marching proudly onto stage, and up to Trev’s Lectrum, Oh Dear!
It was only really when I was along side him already grasping the trophy in my hand, that I realised that ahh, I really shouldn’t be here right now, as he was doing a live piece to camera, with the eyes of the nation now upon me and what was I doing, looking like some dodgy Trophy Thief, running on stage and mugging and old man with grey hair on live TV. I was told my face was a picture, as I picked up the trophy turned and ran, with the audience in fits of laughter.
I could of died, I would of given anything to be wrapped up with my little pink blanket on my sofa at that second, but not even blanks could save me now, he was nowhere to be seen and I was all alone, like a lamb to the slaughter as I walked back past the director, face like thunder proclaiming my apologies.
He just turned away in disgust, But it wasn’t my fault, I thought she said to go ?? But he was having none of it. With half the show still remaining, I wasn’t allowed back on stage again, my Big Television Debut, up in smoke and what did I have to show for it, I didn’t even get to keep the trophy and now; remembered for ever as that quite cute man with the little bit of stubble in the tux with the shinny shoes who tried to rob Old Trevor live on stage.
Don’t think I’ll be booked for that again. Looks like them daddy long legs have got the better of me yet again, I can just see them laughing now, I will get my revenge!!!!!
Ahaaa ahhhaa ahhhaaaa( that’s spooky laughter by the way)
(This is a true story- although no one from the daddy long legs camp was available to comment when asked in their involement in this whole palaver.)