Here's the thing. I'm pitching a new TV show. The premise is that we get two or three celebs (or even regular civilians) on each week to describe what they consider to have been the best day of their life. One single day. Of course many, when initially asked the question, will cite their wedding day or the birth of a child, but those things are excluded. This is mine: Easter Monday 1985 - I was in Jersey on a football tour with my Sunday league team. We had had a pretty outrageous weekend and were heading back to the airport via Jersey races. We didn't have time to stay for all of the races, but I backed the winner of each race that we saw. After the first two winners, I was filled with a kind of supreme confidence that I was going to back every winner. So much so that I gathered around me a team of hangers-on from the locals who, thanks to my vociferous celebrations, had become as convinced as me that I would back the next winner. And so I did - and so did they. Four races, four winners. The flight home was interesting, as the individual entrusted with the recreational drugs decided that he didn't want to be still in charge of them as we entered Heathrow. So we had to eat the resin. It only took a few minutes until there were a dozen or more mediocre footballers laughing helplessly, and the rest of the plane seemed to join in. We landed at Gatwick and got the train back to Victoria, where my wife, pregnant with my first child, met us all and was chain-waltzed down the platform to a chorus of On The Street Where You Live. The day was not over, though, as we all had tickets for the Mean Fiddler later to see The Pogues. There was a moment that night when I was standing next to my wife watching the band, whilst she was stood next to Elvis Costello on her other side - just one of us. I got home that night, fished winnings from every pocket and collapsed on the bed, feeling like a true master of the universe. What would be your best day?
My best day would've been the one that you've just described, Stroller. My own life has been filled with abject failure, false hope and bitterness from the moment the chord was cut.
