From The Scotland On Sunday - Sun 3rd March 2002
NOW that Spike Milligan has finally departed to that great madhouse in the sky - and no, he isnt working as a steward
with British Airways - we should perhaps honour the hitherto little-remarked influence which the late Goon had on the world
of sport.
An inveterate pessimist prone to dramatic mood swings , one shouldnt be too surprised to discover that Milligan cherished
a lifelong interest in cricket and all its foibles. Like so many others, he was a grim witness amid the wreckage of Englands
Blackwashes against the West Indies in the 1980s, and subsequently spoke to David Gower about the trauma. "Spike called
it the Perkins Principle: the purest form of sporting courage, because it demands nothing back, and certainly not victory,"
recalled the former England captain. "His philosophy was summed up in one of his brief poems: The boy stood on the burning
deck,
Whence all but he had fled,
Twit. Ive never forgotten that."
Milligan, mind you, was gleefully addicted to hopeless causes, which maybe explains his affection for Irish rugby, of
which he once said: "Do you know what I like most about their test team? The fact that they are the only side who come
off at the end of any game and ask: Who won?"
Back in the mists of time, when Milligan appeared on the right wing for D Battery, 56th Heavy Regiment, he grew to appreciate
that whereas his English and Welsh army colleagues tended to view the game with an excessive seriousness, the Irish were a
different proposition.
"There was this hilarious game somewhere in Munster, where two-thirds of the way through the second half, one of
the XVs called on the referee to stop the match because they had to rush to catch the last train home. So the team that was
left high and dry insisted on finishing the game, and ended up with 120 points," said Milligan.
"On another occasion, I was very anxious to see the All Blacks play Ireland at Lansdowne Road, but couldnt get a
ticket. I went over to Dublin in any case, because I knew there would be lots of touts outside the ground. So I walked around,
saying very quietly: Anybody got a ticket? Anybody got a ticket?
"Eventually, this woman came over to me and said: Ive got a ticket. I replied: How much? and she said: Two hundred
pounds. To which I spluttered: What, two bloody hundred pounds! But, for that amount of money, I could get the most beautiful
woman in Dublin.
"Whereupon, she retorted: Ah yes, but she certainly wouldnt give you 40-45 minutes each way with a wonderful brass
band playing in the middle."
Introduced to the sport by the Catholic brothers at St Pauls College in Rangoon, Milligan scored his last try at the age
of 80 for Rye RFC, and brought a wonderfully-quixotic approach to rugby unions "eternal struggle between big buggers
and little buggers".
My favourite story concerns Milligans famous creation, Eccles, and his crews labours to escape from a ship on the Amazon.
"When the rest of us reached dry land, Eccles was already there, so we asked: How did you get ashore?
"Ho hum, I came across on that log.
"Log...buts that an alligator.
"Oops. I wondered why I kept getting shorter."
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