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If you’re a sports fan who grew up in the Seventies, there is a very good chance you spent your Saturdays and Sundays jumping your Evel Knievel Super Cycle off increasingly bizarre configurations of ramps and inclines. The Knievel toys sold upwards of 300 million dollars worth of product and established their progenitor as a cultural icon. The dramatics at Caesar’s Palace, Wembley and Snake River Canyon, all televised either live or on tape delay by the mighty Wide World of Sports, made Evil the hero of millions of young people (despite the fact, by the way, that Evel crashed spectacularly in all three of his most famous jumps) .

One man, a very smart and creative man, decided in 2007 to reconcile the memories of his youth with the realities of present day by visiting Knievel. Oh, the anguish that can result when we endeavour to meet our idols! Richard Hammonds documentary, cleverly titled “Richard Hammond Meets Evil Knievel”, is available on Google videos and is compulsory for any who were enthralled by the stunts and theatrics of the “world’s greatest showman”. It is magnificent viewing, but it sure isn’t pretty.

The revelation of Evel as a bitter, ignorant, narcissistic thug crunches the remnants of your childhood idealism with the vigour of a brandished baseball bat. The answer to the question why Evel’s career tanked overnight is provided and it is very disturbing. My Evel Knievel Camper was so clean and shiny (and often visited by members of the Justice League of America, thanks Mego toys!) but evidently lacking in the real essentials; a wet bar and a collection of assorted white trash losers.

No, the Evel of your mind’s eye won’t survive the one hour running time. When I met the young lady who recommended the doc to me, I thundered, “You killed my childhood idol!” The doc is a stark reminder of life before the internet, before TMZ, before Perez Hilton, when the public was spoon fed contrived image of our heroes. It was a simpler transaction, allowing an easy attraction and fondness for these seamless, manufactured projections.

My preference, like Hammond, is for a more vigorous and thorough examination of our icons. I can handle the truth. Muhammad Ali was a serial womanizer; Stevie Nicks inhaled half the yearly coke production of Columbia; and Elvis, Elvis, died on the can trying to take a dump. There. We’re all okay. The truth will set you free.

Rogue and Mad Bastard, Evil passed away (Nov 30^th, 2007) before having a chance to watch the finished artefact.

GRID IRON..Bill Simmons of ESPN, during the course of making his Week Eight selections, delivered a classic line describing the play of Miami Dolphin wideout Ted Ginn Jr; “He gives us the answer to the question of what a receiver would be like with no arms”.  Ginn responded with a killer performance against the Jets yesterday, but, man, that line is going to live forever…so, it was 24-16 San Diego Chargers, time winding down, Oakland Raiders at midfield. My pick in every Suicide Pool was San Diego. And I could not, just could not, get even the slightest bit nervous. With JaMarcus Russell under centre, the human reaction is too just giggle. Russell take his team fifty yards in the dying minutes to tie the game? No really, tell me another. I didn’t mean to anger the wagering gods but, honestly, I don’t think even they could keep a straight face as JaMarcus “It’s Not My Fault” Russell worked his team into a third and twenty eight before the inevitable change of possession…then there was one - the Tampa Bay Buccaneers are the only team in the League without a win. Just a year removed from the Detroit Lion 2008 debacle the Bucs seemed inordinately determined to fashion a similarly execrable season. The Bucs travel to Lambeau this weekend and will debut their latest draft disaster, Josh “The Milkshake Man” Freeman. I’m having a hard time forgetting my “over” bet on the Bucs at the start of the season, a betting slip destined to inhabit the crowded halls of my Wagering Hall of Infamy. It has company; I also bet a Redskin over, proving the excitement percolating through my grey matter as the NFL prepares to kick off temporarily turns me into a really dumb guy…the Tampa Bay Bucs have two games remaining against the New Orleans Saints. Can the 16.5 spread of this past weekend (Oakland at San Diego, covered) be topped? How many points would you want before taking the Bucs on the Bayou?… MEDIA. I finished Kazuo Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go” on the weekend. The book was shortlisted for the Booker prize in 2005 and is considered, by Time magazine, one of the 100 Greatest Novels of the 21^st century. I had a strong reaction to the book; it’s absolute twaddle. The most pretentious, meaningless pile of meandering rot this side of Margaret Atwood. What brightened my day considerably was a scathing review of the book available on The Guardian website. “The triumph of style over substance”, proclaims the paper. It is amazing what “intellectuals” are prepared to like in order to develop that pompous swagger. The book is plodding and dull with the reader developing no connection to the characters. I hung around to watch them all die, an ending that seemed preordained from the fourth page on…the book is being made into a feature film starring Keira Knightly…Margaret Atwood, the Queen of All Twats, wrote a rave review of the book on Slate, though she did, very generously, note that the book may well be beyond the average citizen…