h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

"Drew, can you ring up Rotherham United and see if you can get two tickets for the Northampton game for the Chuckle Brothers?"

Of all the minor brushes I've had with fame while I've been up here, this is my all-time favourite

Oh my lord.... Six you are in the stratosphere now!

Well did Rotherham come up with the goods?

Impressive Six, but the best question I've ever been asked (in terms of the one I was happiest to hear, as opposed to the most difficult to answer) was " would you like me to ? which broke the record held by the question asked only an hour or so earlier: "I guess this is the point where I'm supposed to ask you upstairs to look at my etchings, but I'd rather you just came up and made mad passionate love to me, if that's okay with you?"
This was of course, in actual fact, followed by the sound of my jaw hitting the floor and a confused muttering of "er, um, uh, yes please."

Not to rain on your parade, but the Chuckles bros. pale in comparison

Can't the Chuckle Brothers afford to buy their own tickets??

I think they're probably in panto somewhere! And tickets probably aren't that easy to come by - the winners are at home to Manchester United in the 4th Round, after all...

I'll find out on Monday. By the time I tried on Friday, Rotherham's press officer had gone home.

To you!

Mayby you could get them a job there... no doubt they would have "An hilarious escapades" where they would be incompetant at there job but it would all work out in the end... after some clever slapstick comedy (clever compared to Jim "SATAN SPAWN" Davidson anyway).

P.S. There used to (in the 70's) be a Leo Baxendale comic strip that I am sure the Chuckles based their act on called "Clever Dick" who use to cock up his jobs and get the sack at the end... most amusing. Not as good as Willy the Kid or the Bash Street kids though...

I served Barry Chuckle a pint of lager once!

B

The man from Millmoor he say yes! Personally, I'd like to see the Chuckle Brothers given a chance to run Leeds United. I reckon they couldn't do much worse than anyone else has...

Lager? When was this, B? I'd have probably put them down as Tetley Bittermen if I'd had to guess.

I was working as a night porter in a hotel in Scunthorpe, and they were doing panto there (local boys, y'see). Barry was staying at my hotel, but Paul was at a different one.

B

That's mildly interesting. I wonder if they still get on with each other, or maybe they're trapped forever in light entertainment limbo, stuck with each other until the end of time and unable to make a living without the other one...

Are they actually brother?

Apparently so!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/guide/articles/c/chucklevision_7771425.shtml

Perhaps they can't stay in the same hotel for the same reason that no more than x number of royals are suppposed to fly in the same plane. To lose one Chuckle brother would be a tragedy, to lose both would be nothing short of a national disaster...

That's a very good point. Les Freres qui rit, if that's anything like the correct French translation, were pretty good value. They *do* smoke like chimneys, and one is noticeably older and smaller than the other. It surprised me how much the Rotherham crowd loved them. You can't underestimate the power of local celebrity, I suppose.

I'm now pondering rev. paperboy's point - I have been asked the occasional question of that nature in my time, but not quite of such a direct nature. But come to think of it, I must have been asked better questions in non-Chuckle Bros-related contexts.

What about you guys?

I just remembered one of the other best football-related questions I've been asked. It was New Year's Day some time in the early nineties, and my family had rented out a house in Alnmouth on the North-East coast for a week, and I'd decided to go and watch a match - in this case, Berwick Rangers at home to Stenhousemuir in Scottish League Division Two.

It's not just Egon who does this kind of thing...

It was a bizarre experience all round. Shielfield Park is a bit odd anyway, being part speedway/greyhound track and not having any ends, and as Berwick are the only English club in the Scottish league, the fans are convinved that the Scottish refs are biased against them. Added to this is that Berwick is the last town in England before the border, and the local accent sounds Scottish to my ears. So the ref would make a decision in Stenhousemuir's favour, and all the guys would go "Och, ref, ye Scottish b*st**d!".

I was in the middle of my full-blown indie kid phase, all Doc Martens and Army surplus jacket. Then some time in the second half, these two guys sidled up to me and said:
"Scuse me, d'you like Echo and the Bunnymen?" I wondered whether admitting it would lead to abuse or violence, and riposted with a wary "Well, yeah". It turned out they were a couple of top blokes who ran the Berwick fanzine, and I ended up down the pub with them after the game and was shown the delights of Berwick drinking culture.

Those were the days... the indie-football crossover. Rangers had a midfielder called Craig Valentine, who was invariably labelled 'My Bloody Valentine'.