EVERY MONTH
NED RETURNS TO THE STAGE FOR HIS VERY OWN TOUR
Exclusive column p146
When I was at university, I was an atrocious actor. And it wouldn’t be important, apart from the fact that I was also an atrocious student, and, even though it had nothing to do with my degree, acting was something I thought I was reasonably good at.
It turns out I wasn’t, as three or four wasted (but outrageously enjoyable) years of post-graduate drifting neatly attested to. An actor without a job, nor any prospect of a job, blundering into his late twenties, is a fairly low life form.
So, I took a job at Ladbrokes and developed a gambling habit. That too proved unsustainable, as it started to swallow not only my pitiful salary, but also began to nibble away at my partner’s wage. She was a newly trained nurse at the time, dedicated to public service. I wasn’t. But I thought I knew which horse was going to win the 3.20 at Hexham.
Eventually, desperation drove me (well, actually, I took the bus) to Sky Sports, where I got a job that paid me £50 a day. I upgraded that to a full time job that paid £750 a month (about £38 a day) and embarked on a career in sports journalism. That was nearly 20 years ago. Now, remarkably, I find myself back on stage. And this time, it does matter.
In November I toured the country (well, I say country, I didn’t make it to Scotland or Wales, for which I have been rightly admonished) with a one-man show about bicycles. Rather clunkily I called the show Bikeology. Then I had to explain to a potential audience what it was, which was a tough proposition given that I wasn’t sure myself. “It’s a theatre show. About bikes.” “Bikes?” “Yup.” “What, bicycles?” “Yup.” By way of elucidation, I’d then add, “It’s a one-man show. I’m the one man.”
So, now this year’s tour is over, I can exclusively reveal that I am still not entirely certain what it was, but it was riotously good fun to do.
Somewhere between stand up comedy and a Powerpoint presentation, I would riff for a couple of hours about Aussie former pro rider Robbie McEwen, bottom brackets, Norwegian former pro Thor Hushovd’s dad’s campervan and the similarities between chamois cream and Marmite. Part therapy session, part nostalgia binge, part parliamentary sub-committee.
Anyway, the point is how can this even be a thing? I mean, the very notion that someone could have suggested a bicycle-related theatrical ‘extravaganza’ (I use that word very, very loosely and not in its strictest legal sense) in the first place is a key indicator of where cycling is.
There is still a huge pent up demand for stuff about cycling, and there really isn’t enough supply. It only flickers across mainstream TV screens once in a yellow moon, and even then you normally have to scope out hitherto unexplored corners of your TV remote control to happen upon it.
So, in a quest to slake their thirst for cycling-related stuff, the Lycra-crazed brother and sisterhood descend on the peripherals. That’s why they buy tickets to The Cycle Show, The Bike Show and Rouleur Classic, where they pay to have people try and sell stuff to them. That’s why the wonderful British cycling public still turns up at every possible opportunity to watch bike races; the Tour Series, the Tour de Yorkshire, RideLondon and the Tour of Britain to name but a few. And, amazingly, that’s why my Bikeology show got off to a flying start.
If the bubble’s about to burst, then no one told the cycling community on these shores. They (we) are still frothing at the mouth at the slightest mention of Paris-Roubaix or Campagnolo.
So I will be back on stage, with luck, next year, when, like an overenthusiastic evangelist, I will be preaching to the converted about the singular truth staring us in the face. As the abomination that is 2016 lurches to its ghastly end, one curiously simple, oddly unchanged Victorian invention still has the power to change the world.
The bicycle might not get us entirely out of the hole we have dug for ourselves, but it will get us to the shops and back, and leave us smiling on our return.
I have even got a name for 2017’s Tour – Bikeology, Recycled. Book now!
One curiously simple Victorian invention still has the power to change the world