Innes Maran

A lot of people have been asking me to go to fashion shows lately, so I have to make my position clear- there is nowhere else that I would rather not be. Especially when the cricket’s on.

I know what I have just said has probably blown a few minds. You’re thinking to yourselves, “But, Rickster, surely you’d be mad about fashion. You’re young, rich and pretty, and you like hot girls. That sounds right up your alley, doesn’t it?”

My poor misguided fool. How wrong you have it. What I deal with is something Rico told me when I was young- I deal with style.

The thing is, with the markets as jumpy as they are, you can’t always guarantee you’ll be rich. Rico got rich in the 70s, then Reagan came in and did a job on him. Like they always say- form is temporary, class is permanent. Rico soon got rich again, but when he was scrabbling, he would have looked a right tit wearing a white suit 3 days of the week. A lesson that I’m glad he taught me. Only get a white suit when you have at least 8 others. And never wear brown in town.

At the end of the day, you only have to look at the way most ‘designers’ dress and it frankly gives me the shivers. Black jeans black t-shirt combos abound. That’s basically what Good Charlotte built their style on. I wouldn’t trust a mechanic in a rattly car, I don’t trust a tailor in a loose suit, and I don’t trust a fat bloke who looks like Grant Mitchell to sell me overpriced sportswear.

On a side note- that T in the Park’s a bit shit innit?

Lates,

Rickster

Funny thing about flying machines is that they operate to a different code to other modes of transport- they’re inherently more dangerous because they operate in three dimensions. Some things you just can’t get away with in the air which you can on land. My uncle managed to hold down a 15 year motorsport career despite being pissed out of his box everyday on cheap whiskey, he even won Le Mans after being up for five days on a mentaller. He tried it once in a Zeppelin- crashed it into an oil rig. Different rules.

While my uncle was a bit of an idiot in the skies, I was no such fool. When I won that spyplane in the race against the MR2 (pink slips) I decided to get into the old flying game a bit- just in case the Russians were bluffing and I had to put that old bird up in the sky. Luckily old Gorbachev held his nerve, so in the end we could all relax and have a smoke on the nice nice. I wasn’t intending to miss the Addams Family for anything, let alone some nuclear war bullshit.

Fridays were a good day for taking the kite up and doing a little island hopping, before all the weekend funsters got out of the office and clogged the skies. It was a time before Alyson decided to ruin my life (in fact she was still out in Torrance living the simple life, her poison heart thankfully unaware of how the Rickster ran the show), so I was really doing a Biggles when I got out there. We had a little crew that used to meet up in the Caribbean at the weekends, living large, great times. Usual itinerary was get down there, do a few stunts, then put the birds down and get the barbecue going, and a game of cricket with everybody there. Get the ragga bumping, roast up a pig and a goat, try and get Shabba Ranks on your team because he’s a phenomenal paceman- I even saw him clean bowl Viv Richards once, and not many people do that. They really where great times.

It was all ruined really when the Ackman, out of his mind on lighter fuel and Prosecco yet again, came down once in his Apache after the Gulf War had started. To this day I don’t know what kind of brutal visions he was seeing, but he was raving incoherently about his ‘direct line to Reagan’, the ‘octopus conspiracy’ and a ‘truth apocalypse’. It must have wrecked his mind, because that night he lost $250,000 on the baccarat, and he never plays cards. He disappeared into the night cackling wildly… two hours later a series of explosions rocked the island. We found Ackman naked in the surf next to the airfield, clutching the keys to a Volkswagen Jetta. Behind him all our planes burned- he’d turned the guns of his Apache on them, then self-detonated the chopper, before seeking his escape in the Jetta, driving it straight into the sea.

After that, the thrill had gone.

After that, embargoes where handed out to a lot of us, just by association with Ackman, so we were forced to pretty much disband the squadron. Our lifestyles changed, and I found myself spending a lot more time on the ground after I met Anya, who was afraid of flying.

I guess that’s just the way it goes…

Lates,

Rickster

I used to play a bit of the old summer cricket tournaments myself back in the day, charity stuff mostly. I know what you’re saying- Rickster, you give too much. Surely you can’t have time for anything else? Well, I’ve always said that charity is one arena where if you don’t do it no one else will. Unlike sexing your wife because you’re too busy with charity matches. Unless you have an ugly wife, which naturally I did not. Alyson- you don’t know how much you hurt a man when you did that. And Pat Sharp- Cambodia’s not as big a country as you think it is. Your card is marked.

I usually batted about midway down the order, but had the second highest average on the team- behind the actor Chris Ellison, who you might remember as Burnside off The Bill, a phenomenal batsman, but a real Geoffrey Boycott type- stayed in for hours. I had better things to do- I hit big and quick, then back to the clubhouse for the Pimms and keep an eye on the markets. Had to rest my arm for some Beefy style allrounding as well.

I remember one spell I had against a Neighbours XI… the look on Toadfish’s face when I clean bowled him round the legs… kept sending bouncers down to that big Drew fellow just for mispronouncing rodeo all the time… then hit him with the yorker… he hit it for 6… exactly what I wanted him to do… then out with the reverse swing… clean bowled. Karl Kennedy was next- a tricky adversary… I saw the pure ice in his eyes. I knew he’d be looking for the singles, no big hits. I had to find his rhythm, explore the pitch… sent him a few tasty leg breaks, then the googly- he edged it to Ted Roach for a hell of a catch. In the end I took 5 for 18 that day, hit a quick 54 off 20 balls, then hit the town with Ann Wilkinson. Raised over £20,000 for the kids as well, and in the end that’s what it’s really about- giving back.