Mick the Miner: The Face of Rotherham

Remember the 1980s.

It was all Yuppies in Golf GTIs yapping into mobiles the size of bricks. I never actually saw this myself, but TV told me about it so often, I believe it. My abiding memory of the 1980s is the bloke in a City wine bar waving a bottle of Rolling Rock and fingering a wad of notes in his shirt pocket as he leers into the camera. I’ve seen that image so often on list shows, I feel like I was there. Such is the power of TV

From October: Rotherham will be personified by Mick the Miner. If you don’t know the name yet- get used to it. Mick the Miner is going to be one of the faces of my hometown.

In the future- when people mention Rotherham- they will think of Mick the Miner. Potential investors will visualise Mick the Miner when they consider bringing jobs here. William Shakespeare is Stratford-upon-Avon.

Mick the Miner is Rotherham.

You can’t say we didn’t warn you.

Jamie says that 60% of people can’t cook at all. Lie.

Oliver came to town because he needed to back up the lie his money making scheme is based on. He also needed to make sure his core audience wasn’t offended. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

His publicity machine has churned out statements about how he was “haunted” by the images of the Rawmarsh lasses on their lunch run. He joined in the cruel mockery at the time- but then he saw a chance to cash in on his “caring” shtick one more time.

His first step was to set up a class of non-cookers to teach for the cameras. If you thought he would choose normal, everyday people to address a serious issue…I know a Nigerian diplomat who wants your bank details. This is entertainment baby- sleazy to the max.

Ideally- this group would conform to the thicko Northern stereotypes he came to Rotherham to exploit and they would go on a reality TV journey guided by the benevolent St Jamie. This tried and tested formula is what his ABC1 Southern female viewers lap up.

He has started to introduce the stooges who have been hand picked to represent sloth, ignorance and gluttony in service of his greed.

In Jamie’s first Radio Sheffield hour- we met Natasha. She claimed to live on nothing but kebabs and takeaways seven days a week. After four cooking lessons with Jamie- she said her life had been transformed. She sits down at the table to every meal with her two children.

Find that little morality tale unlikely- Jamie’s ready to go nuclear.

Meet Mick the Miner.

“Mick the Miner, 56 years old, was even uncomfortable being next to me. He’d never cooked in his life. I showed him the chicken dish that takes about 12 minutes. When he finished it and tasted it, it was like he’d seen colour telly for the first time in his life. He hasn’t stopped cooking since”.

After his corporate bunfight at Magna, Jamie put Mick on the radio. Mick was asked what his level of experience was before he became one of Jamie’s disciples.

“Not a thing- never cooked a meal… My wife did all the cooking.”

This raises a few questions.

1] Jamie’s Ministry of Food is supposed to be about improving health by encouraging home cooking. If Mick was getting home cooked meals off his wife- why was he seen as someone who needed personal tuition from Jamie?

2] If Mick really wanted to learn to cook- why didn’t he ask his wife to help him out? He has someone at home who has promised to love and honour him for life, but he prefers to seek the help of a stranger who he: “was even uncomfortable being next to…”. Is it possible he is just a sad sac who was desperate to be on telly?

3] If, after trying Jamie’s Chicken Chow Mein: “it was like he’d seen colour telly for the first time in his life”- What the Hell has his wife been feeding him all this time? Is it possible that he wanted to say what his new master wanted to hear? Does Mick the Miner just do whatever Jamie wants him to because he wants to be on the colour telly himself? Do you think maybe Jamie and his team egg Mick on to play the stereotype they need?

I ask this because something troubles me about Mick the Miner. He’s too good/bad to be true.

For a start, he’s a miner. That’s, probably the kind of worker an ABC1 woman would expect to find in Rotherham. Not anymore gals. You’ve been watching too many 1980s list shows. They’re pretty rare on the ground these days. But don’t you think sexist old miner would be high on any shopping list of South Yorkshire stereotypes. I look forward to watching fish pies being baked by Mick, brassy blonde barmaid and boy grieving kestrel murdered by sadistic brother

During the interview on Radio Sheffield; Jamie asked his little buddy to tell the listeners the thing he always used to say. Mick obliged:

“Men mine and women cook”.

See, I was born and bred in Rotherham when the pits were a major employer. I was brought up in a mining family and, without an ounce of irony, I can say that some of my best friends were miners. I never once heard anyone use the verb “to mine” to describe what they did for a living.

“I mine at Maltby”. “I’ve been mining for years”. “The paddy broke down and we didn’t start mining till 10 o’clock”.

It just sounds wrong to my ear. It’s like a steelworker saying: “Men steelwork”.

Maybe Mick said something along those lines and it was re-jigged for him by one of the production team. Some Londoner who doesn’t understand the local culture. Maybe he repeated it and Jamie liked it- so it became his catchphrase. His passport to telly time. The more the lovely celeb tickled him- the more he learned to roll over and show him his bits. Everyone playing their fake role in a huge charade.

You may think I’m being a bit harsh – and you’re right. It will be harsh on my town when we are portrayed as a bunch of imbeciles to highlight a problem that doesn’t exist. Drawing on their personal experience- viewers will reject the idea that 60% of people are unable to boil rice. From the episodes of Jamie’s Ministry of Food they see- it will be imprinted in their minds that Rotherham is populated by incompetent tossers who deserve to live in their post industrial squalor.

The media spotlight doesn’t shine on our town very often. Anyone who collaborates in this shoddy enterprise is selling us out- and for what?

My message to collaborators is: if you think this is harsh, wait till Jamie’s finished with you. When the tender moments are on the cutting room floor and all that is left is the image of the bungler being groomed to semi adulthood by the wise mentor.

How do you think people are going to treat you?

“You’ve not dropped it again Mick. Do as I say and you will escape your pathetic life. Look at the colour telly Mick. Isn’t is beautiful”

What you are doing now will define you for the rest of your life.

Do you trust Jamie and his team not to stitch you up?

Really?

Stop staring at the light and think for a second.

Come back.

We’re here for you and we’ll be here when the circus moves out.
No Blackmail