Top stuff, that Top Gear

There they were last night, three little boys playing with their toys.

They form a typical boys’ gang, with constituent parts that are so far removed from each other that they shouldn’t really get on.

First there’s Jeremy – the brash, over-confident leader of the pack.

You imagine he would be the first to shout “Fight” when a fracas breaks out in the school ground/ TV studio.

And also the first to melt into the background in case he becomes involved or, more to the point, hurt.

Then there’s Richard – the human version of Shrek’s Donkey, pogoing behind Jezza shouting “Pick me, pick me”.

He may be the smallest of the litter but he’s up for anything. He’ll rarely be top dog in the gang but he loves the aura that radiates from the leader.

And finally there’s James – sensible, boring and practical. We ALL had a James in our gang.

He’d be the one saying: “I really don’t think we should be attempting a new land speed record down Everest Street using a Beano annual as a seat on a single roller skate” as you looked for the next school summer holiday challenge.

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, you have to admire the three amigos.

Getting paid barrow-loads of money to prat around with your best chums, visit exotic parts of the world, upset the locals and have a jolly good time while you’re at it is quite inspiring.

The closest thing to the Utopia of being a member of Jezza’s Gang is to be a professional footballer. They get paid container-loads of money for doing something they like – only without the fun.

And to think I used to say being a journalist was better than having a real job.

I REALLY must get out more.