Nineties nostalgia

REMEMBER the Nineties? I should flaming well hope so. They only finished 19 months ago. Toddlers have an excuse for not recalling anything from a decade that delivered Baywatch and Hugh Grant. The rest of us are just trying to forget it.

Fat chance. The past is catching up with us. Tonight on BBC2, I Love 1990 kicks off the latest series of year-by-year retrospectives. Is it possible to be nostalgic about the Nineties when they are so fresh in the memory? Telly bosses certainly hope so. And it certainly saves them putting on a brand new series.

Quite by accident, the Evening Press on this day ten years ago was quite a succinct guide to the decade ahead. Led by warnings of trouble in the Gulf, a war that was fought twice over in the decade, the paper also carried a report about an "acid house" party in Harrogate that ended in chaos. Drug-fuelled dance crazes were to continue to hit the headlines from then on.

After record-breaking summer temperatures, North Yorkshire was shivering in autumnal fog on Saturday, August 18, 1990: portentous of an era of weird and wacky weather.

Among the job advertisements in the Press was one for a receptionist at Scarborough's Holbeck Hall Hotel. This full-time post would come to an abrupt end less than three years later when the cliff-top hotel elegantly slipped into the sea.

Later the same week, York City manager John Bird told of his pre-season confidence in the team's promotion chances, although the fans weren't happy at some of his summer buys. Record crowds flocked to the Ebor race meeting.

York parents could not buy toys based on cartoon Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles for love nor money, as kids' TV became little more than a merchandising opportunity. And estate agents were gloomy about a slump in the housing market (price of a Fulford three-bed semi: £66,000). They needed to hold on tight. The North Yorkshire housing market was set for a roller-coaster ride.

So what were the cultural highlights of those long gone days of the 1990s?

On the Box

Ten years ago exactly, when we only had the four channels, Saturday night on BBC1 included comedy 'Allo, 'Allo! and Miss Marple.

Telly was never to be the same as the satellite revolution took hold. Suddenly viewers had countless channels of sport, movies and drivel to choose from.

On terrestrial TV, Gladiators gripped a delirious public. Lycra-clad hunks of both sexes did battle with ordinary idiots. The weapon of choice: a giant cotton wool bud. Home grown hero Hunter, aka James Crossley, was wowing the nation with his York-honed biceps.

Bruce Forsyth was bringing back his Generation Game, this time assisted by South Milford's own Rosemarie Ford. At least telly execs these days wouldn't revive a dead series in a desperate bid for ratings.

Another hit was Absolutely Fabulous, starring Jennifer Saunders (currently being revived as part of the BBC's autumn schedule).

At the movies

Hollywood wunderkind Quentin Tarantino had hits on his hands with two genteel English comedies, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. Meanwhile, Hugh Grant achieved international fame for his double gore-fest, Four Weddings And A Funeral and Notting Hill. Or was it the other way around?

York's Dame Judi Dench needed to invest in a new mantelpiece for all the gongs she kept winning, most notably the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her eight-minute appearance in Shakespeare In Love.

Another York actor, Mark Addy, became a film star - a cling film star - in the Yorkshire comedy The Full Monty.

Leo Di Caprio drowned, providing welcome light relief in unsinkable hit Titanic, and the somewhat cheaper Blair Witch Project scared the willies out of the world.

Music and dance

Britpop enjoyed a resurgence. More than 30 years after the Fab Four broke up, Manchester's Oasis - the classiest of the Beatles tribute bands - were out to conquer America.

First, though, they had to take on arch-rivals, Blur, from London. The north-south divide hit the charts. The north won, naturally.

Schoolgirls didn't care for either. They only had eyes for Take That, the clean-cut boy band who must take responsibility for giving Robbie Williams to the world. Take That were so huge, they only did the biggest stadiums: Wembley, the Sheffield Arena, York Barbican Centre...

Fortunately, the Barbican also had some class acts during the Nineties, including Jools Holland and the resurgent Tom Jones.

Across the pond, Vanilla Ice became an overnight phenomenon. His debut single Ice, Ice Baby reached number one in November 1990 and the rapper was on the front cover of every teeny pop magazine. But the public soon wised up and Mr Ice found himself frozen out by music-lovers.

For those who liked to fling themselves around the dancefloor, they had a few crazes to follow. Madonna turned posing into an art form with Vogue, while Latin lovers learnt the Macarena.

Critics lacerated Michael Flatley's Riverdance, but come on guys - it was armless.

Sport

Only one football team was equal to the mighty Manchester United: the even mightier York City. In the Coca Cola cup, City conquered Old Trafford, stuffing the Red Devils 3-0. It was to prove a springboard to future failure.

For England, the Nineties were the near-miss decade. Who can forget Gazza's tears, when he discovered the pie stall had sold out in Italia 90? Or more despair in Euro 96, when football thought about coming home and then changed its mind at the last minute?

Elsewhere, Henry Wharton was pummelling his way to the top in the boxing ring, coming within a few points of being crowned world champion.

And Yorkshire Cricket Club were... oh, let's not even go there.

Updated: 08:57 Saturday, August 18, 2001