From the desk of Roland Rocchiccioli

Being a small part of a successful television programme is most rewarding; however, it does have one serious disadvantage. The passage of time…

I never understood why the actor, Gordon Jackson (Hudson in Upstairs, Downstairs), and the film star, Jean Simmons (one of the most beautiful women in the world), never looked at themselves on screen. It was many years before Jean could bring herself to look at the 1948 film of Hamlet in which she played Ophelia, opposite Laurence Olivier. A most modest actor, she said: “I was surprised. I was bloody good!” She added after a moment: “I was so young. I don’t recognise that girl anymore.”

Gordon Jackson was convinced everything he did, including Mutiny on the Bounty with Marlon Brando, and The Great Escape with Steve McQueen, was dreadful. He never watched one episode of Upstairs, Downstairs. No matter how often one told him, he never believed he was good — in anything. He was a great friend, and so wicked!

The Channel 9 two-part special, 30 Years of the Footy Show, produced by McGuire Media, reminded me of what a joy it was to be part of the show. I owe Ed McGuire a debt of gratitude for inviting me to join him, Sam Newman, and Trevor Marmalade. It changed my life; it introduced me to a whole new audience whom I might never have met. Such was its success, 30-years later people still take time to share their recollections of the show — especially the annual players’ revue.

Football is a great leveller. Some of my most fascinating encounters have been with fans of the Footy Show. Using, as I do, public transport, I met and talked with a cavalcade of football desperados. They were an endless source of inspiration. They discovered I was as interested in them and their stories, as they were in me.

I was the round peg in the square hole of the Footy Show. Choosing me was courageous of Ed McGuire, and while I needed no emotional protection, he was fiercely protective. It was ground-breaking television. A steady-flow of criticism was levelled at Sam’s and my antics: however, time, as it’s wont to do, has mellowed the babbling. Social mores change. Distance lends enchantment to the view! A recent, reflective appraisal posited I broke new ground; I paved the way for other theatrical personalities to follow in my wake. Much of what we did, and which caused such outrage, is now deemed common-place. While one was unaware at the time, it is, on reflection, gratifying to realise it may have helped, in some small way, to make a difference in the scheme of things; to have opened closed-doors.

The down-side to television success is being frozen-in-time. Now, like Gordon Jackson and Jean Simmons, I cannot bring myself to look at vision from 30-years past. Time is unkind! It creeps across our faces and bodies like a thief in the night. It steals our youth. Your hair disappears from your head and sprouts from your nose and ears. It leaves rolls of fat in its wash. The six-pack turns into a keg! I was 68-kilos. Now I am 86. I console myself believing my weight is dyslexic!

Unscripted comedy is challenging. The Footy Show was politically incorrect, but never did it intend to cause distress. Its raison d’etre was to make people laugh — and I think, on balance, it succeed more than not.

Roland joins Brett Macdonald radio 3BA 10.45 Monday morning. Contact [email protected]