Spandau Fail to take Prisoners!
........As I was saying, never a truer word was spoken in jest. It's was 7.30pm on a cold November evening and they'd messed up the court bookings - again. We were playing Spandau Ballet's Kemp brothers Martin and Gary. As we stood in the foyer gagging for some playing action my partner Keith Chegwin questioned the new booking system at the Sports centre. The stand-in deputy manager assured us that the cock-up was down to the new shift pattern introduced at the sports centre which had witnessed a complete overhaul of the working rostas. Established booking receptionists had had their rotas changed and didn't know whether they were coming or going. I said to Keith 'Communication lets us down and, I'm, or rather we, are left here.'
It certainly wasn't good enough and I told the deputy manager that in so many words. He pleaded that it wasn't his fault and told us that he was trying to work through the barricades of red tape.
We avoided the a heated discussion and accepted that we had to wait until 8.30pm to go on court. To be fair, the Kemp brothers were as good as gold. The later court time meant that they'd be unable ot squeeze their league match in as they were playing to a 10,000 sellout crowd at the Apollo and had to be on stage at around 9.30pm. "We'll catch with you another time" said Martin in broad eastend style. "Never mind" I said to Keith we'll just play singles and call it a friendly. He agreed. I didn't half give him a runaround that night.
In the bar after Keith confessed to me that he'd fallen in love with TV Presenter Maggie Philbin and she was stopping him from playing any more badminton for the forseeable future. Although I was initially disappointed I felt it no loss because he was such a crap player. I told him that perhaps he should take up table tennis.He said that he thought his racquet may be too big for table tennis. We both laughed. I never saw him again.
The Kemp Brothers of Spandau Ballet who were trying to squeeze their league match in before their sell-out concert at the Apollo were good as gold when they found that they couldn't play
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The Kemp brothers win a prize for "Worst lyric in a Successful pop song" - for the masterly "Why do I find it hard to write the next line?"
And to answer your question, boys, could it be that you are talentless gangsters best suited to walk on parts in London-based soap operas rather than the hit parade?