As illustrations of how far our sporting heroes can fall, I give you not George Best or even Dereck Chisora, but Olympic medallists Colin Jackson (silver, 1988), Sally Gunnell (gold, 1992) and Roger Black (silver, 1996).
Icons all. Held in highest esteem by a sport-loving nation. And now, just a few short years later, brand ambassadors for Florette. Roger is the face of crispy salad, presumably because he’s the freshest. On that basis, Sally must be well past her sell-by date and Colin positively limp.
Congratulations to whichever agency got away with this, because it’s just the sort of thing we’ve been trying to sell to our clients without much success. They seem wary of our attempts to cash in on the Olympics, without mentioning the O word of course (outrageous), by shoehorning past-it sportspeople into unlikely promotions. Karoline (with a K), who admittedly knows nothing about sport, even tried to sell “that Eddie ‘the Beagle’ Edwards chap” to Nicorette in an ingenious ‘quit and save this smoking dog’ campaign.
Talking of which (not the dog bit) I am now back on the fags. The New Year’s rezzy (no smoking, OK, well, just one then) has given way to Lent (no chocolate, so must have a ciggy). I’m sure it’s recognised as one of the 61 diets women are supposed to have tried by the age of 45. I’m nowhere near that old and have already been through most of them so I’m hoping this one works better than the panda dung tea diet unveiled this week (it’s £125 a cup so it might work as there’ll be no money left for food).
At least it keeps me away from the salad fixture.
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