Olympics: Part I...

Me and the Missus are discussing who will light the flame at the 2012 London Olympics.
‘Sir Steve Redgrave...’
‘Too obvious.’
‘Mo Farrah...’
‘Not famous enough outside the UK.’
‘Dame Kelly Holmes...’
‘Don’t think so.’

I start to think outside the box.
‘David Beckham...’
‘Too much of a twat.’
‘Eddy the Eagle Edwards...’
‘Wrong Olympics.’
‘Eric Bristow...’
‘Why?’
‘He could throw a lit dark into the unlit flame and light it up.’
‘No.’
‘Tony Knowles...’
Silence.

I take a different track.
‘Stephen Fry...’
‘No sporting connection.’
‘Sean Bean...’
‘Supporting Sheffield United and starring in When Saturday Comes is not a sporting connection.’
‘Muhammad Ali...’
‘He’s American.’
‘But we’re British. We have a history of stealing from other countries. It’s the British way!’
No response. Again.

‘Charles Dickens...’
‘Charles Dickens is dead.’
‘Sherlock Holmes...’
‘Fictional character and also dead.’
‘No he’s not. There’s a new series on next year.’
No response. A brief look of exasperation.

‘Dick Emery...’
‘Dead.’
‘Charlie Chaplin...’
‘Dead.’
‘Benny Hill...’
‘You’re just naming dead comedians now. Please stop.’

We decided I have no idea about who is lighting the Olympic flame. And no idea about anything else either...