"Why Reach Drill It." This may sound like some barbaric dentist's motto - in fact it could be my dentist's motto, but it isn't. Let me give you a clue, or two: glasses, outlandish blazers, numbers, vowels, Carol and Rory Bremner. Surely, you know the answer by now?... Richard Whiteley.

You see, it's a conundrum. Ok, OK. I've probably watched too many Whiteley video specials (a disturbing thought) but those conundrum thingies become addictive after a while (a very disturbing thought).

It was all as conscientious research for my job, you understand - yes even I have better things to do with my time. I was going to meet him, Mr Conundrum himself, all beaming smiles and glasses. Actually, a lovely man - I can say that now he no longer graces the opposition's output!

Bit shakey on his Yorkshire claim, mind you. You see he got me to drive all the way over to Giggleswick (an apt name for a very cheery bloke) to see his old school. Now, for those of you who do not know their Yorkshire pud from their Lancashire hotpot, Giggleswick lies next to Settle and both places have trouble with an insidious influence from Lancashire - across the border, but so close you can still smell the War of the Roses!

Giggleswick... I first went there many years ago and have fond memories. I don't remember a uniform of boldly stripped blazers though, so where Whiteley's inspiration came from is still a mystery. I was there to represent my school at cricket, of course, and Giggleswick was well known for fielding a strong team.

Anyway, the day dawned bright enough and the lay of the willow sat nicely in my hand. The wicket was exceptionally favourable to my style of fast bowling (hope I'm setting the scene here; sorry to those of you who are not cricketers!) and I struck. Boy, did I strike. Five wickets in two hours - before the rain came and Giggleswick breathed a sign of relief.

Whiteley wouldn't believe me, so I promised to send him the record. Meanwhile, he enjoyed pointing out that his school got their revenge when the rugby season trotted round. "Vowel please, Carol", was my deflection, rewarding me with a glimpse of Mr Whiteley reaching for his dictionary - a natural reaction, I'm sure.

I'd be no good on that programme - words, well, I'm Ok with words - my work rather depends on them. So, 'Why Reach Drill It' was rather good, I thought, but numbers...

There they sit with plus signs, division, equals. Now, my numbers never worked out with the equals. Give me a list of football team names and I'd learn them in a jiffy, (especially if they were England players for the last 25 years, say), but times tables? Blimey, mathematics teachers are just another term for true torture. Me? I'll just sit and watch Carol Vordeman in awe from afar and bask in the certain knowledge that Yorkshire Pud is, of course, made with potatoes...

19/03/99

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.