Frank Gascoigne and Frazier

Unusually for me, I sat through three separate television programmes last night, and each made for compelling viewing, although for very different reasons. I started with the first part of the Anne Frank story, and it was an emotional opener. I was horrified to discover that I had very little real knowledge of her story,  apart from being aware that it was secretly written. Ellie, who thankfully had been captivated by the tale when being taught in school, was happy to enlighten me further and explained what happened to each of the family members. I was saddened by my lack of true awareness of this incredible story, but also captivated by the incredible strength and spirit shown by someone so young. And this was an event that happened less than 70 years ago, which is  yesterday in historical terms. Modern-day life in the technological and celebrity-laden  age can be exciting, and we can receive stimulus from an endless supply of sources. But we must never forget somebody  like Anne Frank, for she is a true hero of the modern world.

My second show was 'Surviving Gazza,' and a fly-on-the-wall documentary of the most horrid kind. It followed the family of Paul Gascoigne as they struggled to cope with his increasingly bizarre and alcohol-fuelled behaviour. This was car-crash television at its worst, and nobody came out of it with any credit, least of all the dreadful 'Addiction Advisor.' Her advice?. Follow him to a hotel room in Portugal where intelligence suggests he is currently hiding, (with film crew in tow of course) and tell him you are finished with him,  and that he needs to sort himself out. Brilliant. (Btw, the invoice is on the coffee table.) There was so much sadness in this programme is was hard not to cry like Gazza had so famously done himself, back in the days when his life was so simple. One hopes for a happy ending, but that becomes more unlikely by the day. At least some people are making  money out of it which, it seems, is all that matters nowadays.

My last show, and the one which kept me away from my bed until after 1am,  was the story of 'The thriller in Manilla,' the third fight of an unforgettable trilogy between Mohammed Ali and Joe Frazier. Unlike so many documentaries, this was from the perspective of the losing combatant, and give a fascinating insight into both men, and the impact their rivalry had upon each other. Frazier in particular had suffered from Ali's incessant jibes and name-calling, much of which was racist in it's content.Whilst Joe Frazier will always be remembered for his punishing left-hook, it was Ali's tongue that handed out the most punishment, and Frazier was an easy target. One suspects that Ali was never truly held accountable for these slanderous comments by the public because of the awe he inspired in so many. Yet it was clear to see just how much they hurt all members of the Frazier family, and not just Smokin Joe himself.  To this day Joe Frazier has a voicemail message which points to a deep-rooted dislike of Ali, a hatred which has not been lessened by the passage of time.   Whilst this was not dignified, I was struck by how he had been able to retain his dignity right up to the present day, even in the most difficult circumstances. Remarkably he still lives in a room upstairs from the gym where he  trains young fighters, in the same part of downtown Philadelphia he has called home for much of his life. He receives none of the affection that Ali continues to do, but it was hard not to think of him as the better man after watching this programme. A true warrior, and an incredible human being.

Finally, many happy returns to my nephew Patrick who is 5 today!. Happy birthday from us all.