Back in the days when Tim Henman was the lone standard-bearer of British tennis, his sponsors hatched a plan to strengthen his image.
The soft-spoken, public-school-educated darling of his home counties lacked the steel necessary for an international sports star. Too prim, too proper, they thought.
The poor marketers at Adidas tried just about everything: new clothes, new haircut. They even suggested that old Henners stop shaving for a few days to look tougher.
Even then, he looked as menacing as a Hare Krishna monk.
An equally doomed project appears to be underway among Labor image-makers to give Sir Keir Starmer a tougher makeover.
Bad marketers at Adidas even suggested that old Henners stop shaving for a few days to look tougher, and an equally doomed project to give Sir Keir Starmer a tougher makeover appears to be underway.
At PMQs, the opposition leader has started to adopt a grumpier and more aggressive tone – everyone has a “let’s try it” and “in your face” attitude.
If he arrives at the House of Commons in the coming weeks sporting a Hells Angels jacket and a pair of (vegan-friendly) bovver boots, we shouldn’t be too surprised.
The problem is that it is still so pitifully rigid. I’ve seen braver performances in lost episodes of Crossroads.
You can see the voice coach at Labor Party headquarters having kittens: ‘Keir, darling, let’s try it one more time, but this time do you think we could inject some oomph?’ You are auditioning to be Prime Minister, not the voice of the talking clock.
Yesterday, Sir Keir decided to focus on ambulance waiting times. He asked the House to imagine that someone, somewhere in the country, was currently experiencing chest pains and needed urgent medical attention. (For some reason, I remembered that story about U2 singer Bono informing the audience that every time he clapped a child in Africa died. To which someone responded: ‘Well, then stop doing it! ‘)
Considering the beating the Prime Minister gave him the previous week, Rishi would probably have been happy to follow Sir Keir down a dark alley blindfolded.
Starmer asked the Prime Minister how long he estimated it would take for the ambulance to reach them. Rishi smiled as if he was happy to follow his opponent down this avenue.
Mind you, considering the beating the Prime Minister gave him the week before, Rishi would probably have been happy to follow Sir Keir down a dark alley blindfolded.
He noted that Starmer had opposed the government’s anti-strike bill: if Labor were in charge, some days the ambulance wouldn’t even leave the hospital car park.
Sir Keir jumped to his feet as if he were having a Eureka moment. Classic Sunak: ‘Deflect, blame others, never take responsibility!’ Starmer declared.
Bravely, he decided to continue with his imaginary story of coronary heartbreak, although it was clear that his dramatic story was failing to capture attention in the way he had anticipated.
Just as the pub carried drones undeterred long after the last orders, Starmer pressed on
The Conservative MPs crossed their arms and looked impatiently at their watches. Even Labor Home Affairs spokeswoman Yvette Cooper began sneaking glances at her phone.
However, just as the pub carried drones undeterred long after the last orders, Starmer pressed on.
He relayed to the House the news that our patient was now “in bad shape: sweating, dizzy.” So were most of us in the press gallery for the duration of this story.
Still, Rishi refused to be drawn into the guessing game.
In the end, Sir Keir put us out of our misery by announcing that an ambulance could take up to an hour and forty minutes to arrive. Compared to Sir Keir’s endless story, that now seemed decidedly fast.
The rest of their exchanges? Oh, just the usual back and forth of familiar insults. Starmer accused Rishi of “playing politics”. Rishi responded that the Labor leader was the “living example of political games” and “in the pocket of his union paymasters”. In other words, lukewarm and silly things. None of our fighters lives up to his reputation as a “tough man”, no matter how much his advisors try to convince us otherwise.