Make (an absolute minimum of) no bones about it Saturday’s Courier stands alone as the greatest ever testament to the quality of British journalism.
Arguably.
I know it’s a bold claim, you don’t have to tell me that (if indeed you were considering such a course of action).
However, I did qualify the aforementioned bold claim by adding, in the following paragraph the word “Arguably” (see above).
And having thus suggested there is a case to be made, I intend to hereby and henceforth make it:
We start with all the latest news regarding the plight of Jim Murphy. The politician has suspended, repeat suspended, his tour of Scotland following some harsh treatment (including egg-related horror) on the streets of Tayside and Fife. He may have made it across much of the country, but the capers he faced in Courier Country were, quite frankly, rather below the belt. We have the full story.
Meanwhile, David Cameron came north to suggest he really does he think we are all better together (who knew?) and Alex Salmond was out and about in Edinburgh. Our man Kieran Andrews was there to soak up every bit of information and then faithfully translate it into ruddy good copy. He’s a handy fellow to have around at a time like this.
Saturday readers will almost certainly be intrigued to read about the Fife man congratulated by King George (not yesterday pedantry fans, some time ago) after he sent nine sons and a son-in-law to fight in the Great War. Remarkable stuff.
Intrigued by the above you may well be, but hang on to your hats because your intrigue will not last too long.
Not a bit of it. Need for intrigue duly sated by the above, you will be left feeling positively cock-a-hoop when you turn your attention to the latest sensational twists in the latest Bake Off bin-cident-gate drama. Offcom have ruled out a formal investigation, despite over 800 complaints to the BBC over Baked Alaska sabotage. That’s right, hordes of viewers have found themselves Al-askin’ just what the heck has been going on. Cripes.
Still not convinced that Saturday’s Courier is worth the metaphorical entrance fee (or indeed quite literal cover price)?
Well let me, at this juncture, pull out what may very well be viewed as a trump card.
We have news of your chance to lift the Ryder Cup.
That’s right, you could be the toast of the sporting world by holding aloft one of the world’s most famous trophies. Millions will watch in adulation as you accept the silverware after sinking a 80-yard putt on the final green of Gleneagles.
(Please note, none of the above is true. Sorry about that. You could, however, purchase a near perfect replica of the trophy at an auction in Perth. If you can afford it. Then by all means you could pretend all of the aforementioned fantasy is true).
In my opinion there’s something about a weekend. Something magical. Please don’t miss out on your spell-binding Courier. If you can’t, won’t or shan’t but the paper copy, I won’t give up on you. None of us will. Instead, I will merely retain my composure and politely inquire: “why not try our digital edition?” And that is a question you may well find it simply impossible to answer.