Sometimes, it’s hard to know the ‘correct’ way of behaving. The truth is, there is no correct way. It’s lovely that a lot more people now are understanding and sympathetic, but that approach isn’t for everyone. I’m not hanging around with lads who cuddle each other and tell each other they’re brilliant all the time. That’s not for me. And I find a lot of it is false. I’m always hearing people say ‘be kind’ nowadays, as if it’s some kind of deep philosophical directive. But just because someone is going around telling everyone else to ‘be kind’, that doesn’t necessarily make them kind. It’s similar to people who say ‘be humble’. Often, they need to take their own advice.
I’m not sure kids are growing up soft but I worry that they have a very low tolerance to certain things. I know everyone wants the world to be a lovely place, but it’s really not. There’s always going to be people who think differently to you, you’re always going to be competing for things and sometimes it’s going to be ugly and unpleasant. That’s why schools that don’t believe in competition are letting kids down because they’re not preparing them for reality. They don’t pick the best people for their teams in the name of inclusivity, but that’s not how the real world is.
In the real world, the people who work the hardest get the jobs. Now, kids are entering the workplace and expecting to be handed things on a plate, because that’s what they’ve been taught will happen. Well, that can’t happen, because the older people in the company probably worked bloody hard to get where they have. What do they think their boss is going to say? ‘Right, so you’d like a promotion, but you’ve only been here six months and don’t really know anything yet? Fine, you can have Trevor’s job, he’s probably been here too long now and knows too much.’
That’s why I’m tough on my boys when it comes to their cricket. So many people play sport, so you’ve got to be bloody good at it if you want to turn it into a career. People think sport is romantic, and it can be. But it’s just so bloody cut-throat and not always the healthiest environment.
They need to learn that no one is going to give them anything, they are going to have to fight tooth and claw for everything they get. They have to learn that there will always be rivals trying to get one over them. That being the case, you have to be prepared to crawl over broken glass to get one over them. That applies to every sportsperson, even the likes of Michael Jordan and Lionel Messi. Yes, they’re extremely talented, but they might never have made it if they hadn’t been ruthless and worked like dogs. I think giving kids tough home truths is better than pretending that everything and everyone will be lovely.
Too many people are too self-righteous nowadays. They think that because they find something offensive, everyone should find it offensive – and whoever doesn’t find it offensive is guilty by association. But there aren’t many things that someone, somewhere, won’t find offensive, so people are always having to watch what they say. Apart from Piers Morgan, who says what he thinks, usually backed up by facts, which is why so many people dislike him.
Some people want to create their own truth, believe what they want to believe, and deny any facts that don’t fit their narrative or ideology. Even if you show them actual scientific facts, they’ll say they’re wrong and start getting abusive. When did this start, this denial of scientific facts? And when did people start bullying people who believed in scientific facts? It’s so weird.
Anyone being abused for what they look like is horrible. I know, because I had a taste of it. And I’m all for body confidence and people feeling comfortable in their own skin. That’s something that everyone should aim for. But we shouldn’t allow the waters to get clouded. We now have a situation where fat activists are claiming that there’s nothing wrong with being obese, and that anyone who points out that being obese isn’t great for you is bigoted. That’s just ridiculous. There’s a difference between fat-shaming and stating facts, and it’s scientific fact that being obese is bad for your health. It increases the chances of you getting all sorts of diseases and anyone who thinks otherwise is deluded.
Nowadays, everyone’s got an opinion on everything and isn’t afraid to shout about it from the rooftops. Or, as we call the rooftops in this day and age, social media. Everyone knows how to play football better than actual professional footballers, everyone knows science better than actual scientists, everyone knew how to run the country during the coronavirus lockdown, everyone knew what the long-term implications of coronavirus would be. There was a time when people went to university or learned a trade and could then claim to be an expert in something. But now, everyone thinks they know everything because they’ve got a Twitter account. And they can’t handle being told what to do, because they think they already know the answers.
My head doesn’t work like that. When there’s a discussion going on, I’ll often go really quiet, either because I’m desperately trying to think of something to add to the conversation or I simply don’t give a shit. Or, if I’m in the mood, I’ll say exactly what’s in my head, which sometimes doesn’t go down very well. I try to keep it short and as honest as possible, but I can tell you from experience that it doesn’t normally go down very well, because people don’t like opinions that are different to theirs. Other times, a topic will come up that I genuinely know quite a bit about. Maybe it will be cricket, which I obviously know inside out. And I’ll be sat there listening to a conversation thinking, ‘Everyone’s talking absolute bollocks. People are actually making things up.’ And it’s usually the people who are talking bollocks and making things up that are telling other people they’re wrong. But I can’t be arsed saying anything. Except maybe when they leave, when I tell everyone they were full of shit.
I’ve had plenty of dads tell me about cricket, including about games I played in. I’ve had people tell me how A League of Their Own works, or how it should work. I’ve had people tell me stories about colleagues on various shows and what they’re ‘really’ like. I just try not to engage, mainly because it’s madness people telling me about my own life but also because that would mean having a longer conversation. Now I’m doing Top Gear, almost every bloke I meet has an opinion on it. People will start talking to me about how much they loved or hated Clarkson or how good or bad Matt LeBlanc was. And everyone wants to know what the best car is. My answer is always the same, and quite disappointing for some people: if you like a car, you like a car. Whatever your budget is, get the nicest car you can afford. Unless you’re a car geek, modern cars pretty much all drive the same. But that doesn’t stop people saying things like, ‘You say that, but from third to fourth, the BMW X5 is an absolute dream. But the differential on an Audi A6 is in a different class completely . . . ’ Sometimes I’ll think, ‘Turn it off, will you?’ But other times I’ll spout the biggest load of bollocks you’ve ever heard, while laughing inside.
While I do think that people are more likely to be offended nowadays, that’s not to say people didn’t used to get offended. The main difference is that people weren’t allowed to say they were offended and put up with it in silence, which is maybe even worse. I think that we now have a situation where people – especially younger people – are more sensitive, combined with the fact that there are more ways of being offended. Someone can offend you to your face, over the phone, via email, text or WhatsApp, on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or TikTok. It doesn’t help that some people, including me, aren’t very good at expressing themselves online, which makes for misunderstandings. But on top of that, people have realised that they can use being offended – or pretending to be offended – to their advantage. By kicking up a stink, they can make people feel bad, get people to dance to their tune and stay relevant.
As I’ve got older, I’ve developed this thing whereby I mutter stuff under my breath if someone is talking bollocks, probably because I’m getting less tolerant of other people’s nonsense. My kids have picked up on it, so they’ll say, ‘Talking to yourself again, Dad?’ And my standard reply is, ‘Yes, it’s the only way I can ha
ve a sensible conversation around here.’ But sometimes if I disagree with something, the muttering will come out a bit loud and get me into trouble. It’s not quite Tourette’s, but it’s similar. If I’m talking to someone and they’re not paying attention, I’ll suddenly blurt out, ‘You’re not even fucking listening!’
When I’m in meetings now, I’ll say exactly what I think, because I think giving an honest opinion is the right thing to do. But I had one recently which I thought went really well, in which I thought I’d given lots of constructive input from a good place, and afterwards my agent Katie started shaking her head and said, ‘What was that? I was cringing all the way through.’ I replied, ‘Oh, really? To be honest, I thought it went really well.’ I was certainly getting it all wrong in my head. I’ve never really been tactful, but I think I’m getting worse. It’s like my filter has gone faulty and stuff is getting through that didn’t used to. And once it’s out, you obviously can’t put it back in. The deed has been done. And in these politically correct times, when saying what you really think can have terrible consequences, lacking tact can be dangerous.
Part of me can’t wait to get old, because old people don’t give a shit who they offend. Not long after our new baby was born, I took him to see my grandpa, along with a pie. We walked into his flat and my grandpa said, ‘I’m not feeling well, put the pie in the kitchen and go if you want.’ I said, ‘I’ve driven an hour to be here.’ And he replied, ‘Nah, you get off.’ I was there for about three minutes, but I thought, ‘Fair play, he doesn’t want us there.’ People might think that’s a bit weird, but I wasn’t offended. Why would you be? He didn’t want us round his house, that was the end of it. That’s one of the fun things about getting older, you’re allowed to say exactly what you think and people aren’t really allowed to be offended. That said, I don’t really want to wait until I’m 92 to be able to say what I want. And anyway, the rules for old people might have changed by then and perhaps it will acceptable to shout at them for saying the ‘wrong’ thing, just like anyone else.
CHAPTER SIX
LOCKDOWN LOWDOWN
The world will never be the same after coronavirus. America certainly hasn’t come out of it too well. They’ve got millions of middle-class people on food parcels, a health system that can’t cope and a load of nutters who think the whole thing was a hoax. Sometimes I think America must be having a massive nervous breakdown.
I find Donald Trump compulsive viewing. Guilty pleasures are usually things like Love Island or the Spice Girls, but my biggest is the leader of the free world. He’s so unhinged he’s clearly a massive danger to his own people and the rest of the world, so the fact that he amuses me so much is probably quite wrong. I’d tune into CNN every night to watch him doing his daily briefing and it would be like a dark comedy sketch. Whenever he spoke, you could tell when he was on script, because he’d almost be talking like a normal human being. But you could see his advisers hovering over his shoulder, looking tense. Not because he was talking about really important things, like the fact that thousands more Americans had died that day, but because they were terrified of what he might say. You could almost see them thinking, ‘That’s it, Donald, just keep reading the words on the page . . . ’ And then he’d spread his arms and start looking around the room, and you knew he was going to say something weird. Like suggesting that people should inject bleach or announcing that he’d been sucking Strepsils to ward off infection. He ended up telling people to take some anti-malarial drug that doctors had to point out might increase the chances of dying from coronavirus. Even then, he wouldn’t stop: ‘It’s fine, I’m taking it. Go on, take it! It will do you the world of good . . . ’
Watching Trump is like watching a parody. He’s like the longest-running Saturday Night Live sketch in history. I’m a 42-year-old bloke who was educated at an average school and have no qualifications apart from a few GCSEs, yet every time Trump opens his mouth I think, ‘That can’t be right.’ When he starts freestyling is usually when he gets himself into trouble. But he only gets himself into trouble with some people, because he says things with such conviction that his own people believe him. The way he carries on reminds me of when I was a kid and you’d have mates who would march up to a queue outside a nightclub and brazenly salute the bouncers. Sometimes it would work and the bouncers would smile back and wave them in.
Everyone says Donald Trump is thick, but he can’t be thick. I know he inherited a load of money from his dad and has lost loads of money, but he’s still a multi-billionaire with loads of businesses. I’ve been to his hotel in Scotland and it’s beautiful. And he became president of the United States! If you’re able to convince tens of millions of the public to vote for you as their leader, you can’t possibly be thick. Then again, we’re talking about a country where more than a third of the population don’t believe in evolution and almost half of Republicans polled thought Bill Gates would use coronavirus vaccines to implant microchips. I want to believe Trump is chucking new stuff out there every day to throw the media off the scent, so that he can focus on the serious business of managing the country. You watch CNN and they don’t even try to hide their disdain for him. But I think the fact they’re constantly bagging on him works in his favour, because it makes people feel sympathetic towards him. They watch all these very clever, smug journalists and anchors making smart remarks and think they’re picking on their man, especially those who are naturally inclined to vote Republican.
But maybe I’m giving Donald Trump too much credit. I suspect he’s actually a conman and a psychopath who’s so far out of his depth it’s terrifying, and that there are a load of competent people running around in the background covering his arse and keeping things going. But however bad Donald Trump is and whatever is going on behind the scenes, imagine how bad the Democrats must be. If I was Hillary Clinton, I’d spend a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, ‘How shit must I be if I couldn’t beat that lad?’ How many people have accused him of sexual assault? Almost 20? And that’s in the age of the Me Too movement. He’s had hundreds of lawsuits filed against him, loads of associates convicted of crimes and he still might get in next time, because all the Democrats can come up with as an opponent is a 77-year-old man with a habit of putting his foot in it.
I think Trump panics, opens his mouth and stuff comes out that he had no idea was even inside his head. Then after he’s spouted bollocks for 20 minutes, his health officials, poor old Dr Fauci and Dr Birx, have to follow him on stage, contradict him without making it too obvious, and somehow tie everything up and make it look as if everyone’s on the same page. When I was on talkSPORT, Ally McCoist and Laura Woods would sometimes have to be my Dr Fauci and Dr Birx respectively.
I’m torn when it comes to America. I love going there, it’s an amazing place. And I love Americans, although they are annoying. They’re such positive people, they genuinely want everything to be great and everyone to be having a good time. But they wind me up at the same time. Coronavirus seems to have magnified all their problems, including the inequality and rampant individualism. While every other developed country was in lockdown, they were carrying on as normal. It was bonkers. People were screaming and shouting because they couldn’t get a haircut or a massage. Who needs a massage that much? Just get your wife or husband to give you one. Then there were the tattoo people. Seriously, who needs a tattoo during a pandemic? As in, actually needs one? I must admit, I was planning to get some tattoos before coronavirus came along. But once lockdown kicked in and all the ink parlours closed, I didn’t take to the streets with a placard that read, ‘IT IS MY HUMAN RIGHT TO GET A TATTOO! STOP THE TYRANNY!’
In America’s defence, there are a lot of people in that country – something like 330 million – so it’s only natural that there are a lot of idiots. And these idiots, who keep turning up on the telly shouting about their right to a manicure or a foot rub, make all Americans look like complete dickheads. In my opinion, their constitution needs rip
ping up because these idiots are always using it and its various amendments to justify their actions, whether it’s the right to be homophobic or racist or wandering around with machine guns.
Meanwhile, back in leafy Cheshire, I thought I was being very naughty by popping out to the supermarket. As I was driving over there, my heart would skip a beat whenever I saw a police car. And then I’d switch on the telly and see some American woman having a meltdown in a supermarket because someone had told her to put a mask on, or a load of college kids packed into a swimming pool in Florida, drinking cocktails and snogging each other. Some people in America honestly thought the whole thing was a conspiracy theory. As you know, I like a conspiracy theory. But we are entering a whole new world of madness where people think someone has made up a virus when tens of thousands of fellow Americans are dying of it and the hospitals are full to bursting point. I can only assume they thought the media was making everything up. You’ve got no chance with people like that, they’re a lost cause. The level of stupidity is so completely off the scale, I’m not sure they should be allowed to leave the house, let alone vote in elections.
I hope that the main lesson we learn from coronavirus is how important certain people’s roles are for society. Before coronavirus came along, we had the government referring to NHS workers as ‘low-skilled’. Low-skilled? They’re saving the world! While most people, including sportspeople and pointless celebrities, were sat at home watching Netflix and making videos of themselves doing press-ups or washing their hands, these so-called low-skilled NHS workers were risking their lives to treat patients struck down with coronavirus. And it was the same with carers and bus drivers and delivery drivers and all sorts of other people who don’t earn much money. It showed how topsy-turvy society is, that the people needed to keep society functioning during a deadly pandemic are paid peanuts in comparison, while people whose jobs don’t benefit society in the slightest are on bundles of money. If you were to view society as a house, those key workers would be the foundations, floors, walls and roofs – easily forgotten, but absolutely vital to structural integrity. And inside the house, celebrities and footballers and the like would be giant TVs and ludicrously expensive kitchen units – nice to look at but expendable.
Right, Said Fred Page 7
