For years and years the ‘currant bun’ has been my daily newspaper of choice, keeping the number one spot just ahead of the Daily Telegraph. But things have changed. Wapping’s finest and I have grown apart and these days…well, it’s just me and the Torygraph in a state of subscription-sustained monogamy. So who did pull the plug on what was once a pretty lustful relationship? Why did I fall out of love with Britain’s biggest-selling daily? I mean, was it anything to do with hackgate for example? Hmmm, and to answer my own question – no I don’t think it was. I think it’s just a case of familiarity fatigue.
Simply the best
You see I’ve always loved everything about The Sun, from its beautiful - and much copied - written-style, its brilliantly clever headlines, fantastic editorial ideas, sense of humour, and even some of its political perspectives. And for me it’s columnists (such as Kelvin McKenzie) and critics (e.g. Ally Ross) always left their rivals eating dry dust when it came to great writing.
There’s lots more too. I always followed Claude Duval in Sun Racing, read ‘Striker’ every day and, while he was there, turned to Ian King’s Sun City page before anything else. But Kingy and Striker are a long time gone now and Kelvin had it away on his toes in the summer. Sadly. the paper doesn’t give me what it once did in terms of ‘must-reads’. So because I never really took to the Saturday version I stopped buying that first. Then the paper and I were apart from each other for a couple of weeks while I went on my hols and I suddenly realised I didn’t really miss my racy, red-topped, sauce-buddy so much after all. And that, as they say, was the beginning of the end.
Or is it the end?
Can I really throw away all those years of loyalty and companionship? What about the £15 holidays? What about ‘Stick it up your punter’ by Peter Chippindale and Chris Horrie – my favourite book ever, a fascinating and highly illuminating history of The Sun? Was it all for nothing? Maybe the reality is we’re on a break. Yeah that’s it, a break. It’s me, I just need to get the Telegraph er…‘out of my system’ for a bit and then I can go back. That is, if she’ll take me back.
My god what have I done?
