Mascotology

Everyone needs a story these days and it’s not just X Factor contestants. It seems that isn’t enough for an Olympic mascot to turn up at the opening ceremony, bumble around a bit and wave to some schoolchildren. The London 2012 mascots were launched today together with the charming tale of their genesis. And it’s not set inside a circle of beanbags and flipcharts in a glass-walled office of some Soho advertising agency.

It seems that they were manufactured from the stolen offcuts of a Bolton steelworks by someone who looks a bit like former Labour minister Charles Clarke. For reasons only known to Charles Clarke, he creates the pair only with one eye each. It’s a fact that takes on sinister possibilities when an eager advertising goon tells Claire Balding on The One Show that the Cyclops feature is designed to house a miniature camera.

The launch is inevitably the cue for widespread wailing that they are not fluffy enough or British enough or anatomically correct enough. And then deluge of unfavourable comparisons: they look like the contents of Robocop’s handkerchief or the stricken victims of an Atlantic oilslick or the iridescent bastard children of a skittle and Gordon Brown.

People shouldn’t get so fed up. It doesn’t really matter what they look like. As Berlino the Bear proved at last summer’s World Athletics Championship, it’s the person inside that counts:

More Political Football

I am enjoying the election but sometimes I find myself gasping for intellectual oxygen in the rarefied strata of heavy-duty political debate. With that in mind I have dumbed the whole process down, shoehorning it roughshod into a cheap football analogy – the Premiership title race:

So we have the Reds, competing for an unprecedented fourth consecutive victory, but struggling since their inspirational right-winger left to find greater riches on foreign shores. Are heavily reliant on their dour Scots manager, who is famed for his redoubtable work ethic, notorious temper, and fervent distaste for anything to do with Margaret Thatcher.

Then we have the Blues, the rich boys from West London, have improved this term but have spluttered a bit for form of late. Have fared better since they changed their tactics to channel play through the centre as opposed to the right. Dubious origins of funding have raised question marks over probity.

The Yellows (in away colours anyway), everyone’s favourite second team. Are traditionally considered too lightweight to mount a challenge, but have surprised everyone with their stamina in the race. Led by an erudite manager who frequently rails against the dirtier practices of the game. No-one really expects them to win – do they?

All of which nonsense leaves Tottenham cast as the BNP. Predominately white and hateful. Sorry. I’m a West Ham fan – it’s in the contract.