CK Goldiing cheers for a comic's indiscretions

In a former Correspondence piece, I characterised 95 per cent of the stand-up comedians I’ve met as ‘pussies’. Well, I’d like to apologise for this embarrassingly ill-advised observation and make amends.

Incidentally, to be clear, I’m not apologising to the aforementioned 95 per cent, why would I? YOU’RE PUSSIES! No, I’m apologising to the comedy heroes I neglected to mention. The inspired minority who break fresh ground, pioneer new practice and spearhead genius with seemingly effortless dexterity. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…I give to you, Jason Manford Esquire!

In all honesty, I genuinely couldn’t care less about the man’s recent indiscretions. Moreover, his rather graceless departure from a primetime BBC One TV show provides me with zero satisfaction, in stark contrast to many a- bitter circuit comic - who I imagine embraced this unsavoury news story by dancing around their poky living rooms, bollock naked, chanting: ‘He’s left the BBC… He’s left the BBC… now all I ask is where my damn CV?”

The thing that resonated with me, as I read this breaking story, wasn’t the heartfelt and candid openness with which Mr Manford reflected over his ‘misguided’ behaviour, no, I was instead preoccupied with predicting the man’s future… a future which now shines brighter than Kate Middleton’s wedding ring after Prince William scraped off all the gunk and asphalt.

How many times have you heard someone spout the tired adage: ‘Stand-up comedy is the new rock ‘n roll’? Well, interestingly, I’ve heard it infinitely more times than I’ve actually read about a comic throwing a TV out of a hotel window, humping an awestruck fan, snorting crack off a butt crack or imprisoning an expensive hooker in an inexpensive wardrobe. So, while stand-up comedy has always had a perceived potential to be a hotbed for debauchery, misadventure and indiscriminate shagging, it’s so far failed to live up to this wonderful responsibility.

Until now!

Granted, in the grater scheme of things, Mr Manford’s reported escapades are rather innocuous, especially when juxtaposed with the expertly consistent drug and sex adventures of Charlie Sheen, but hey… stand-up comedy’s pursuit of invaluable column inches has to start somewhere, and let’s face it, once the dust has settled on this story, Mr Manford will be an even bigger success story than he already is – leading to every comic and their dog dabbling in low-grade promiscuity with carefree abandon.

It’s the oldest rule of the playground… if you want to be the biggest kid in the place; you have to punch a Dinner Lady in the face! Okay, my analogy is tenuous, but the theory is sound. Now that Mr Manford has effectively punched the general public in the face with a wonderfully-disguised right hook, you can be sure that from this point onwards, although my jaw is a little delicate from the impact, as is yours, no doubt, he is now a heavyweight… and his future earnings, exposure and acclaim will reflect that.

Mr Manford… I salute you! (But please don’t message me on Twitter)

Published: 19 Nov 2010