AS far as the rest of the world is concerned, Worksop had one good thing going for it – but Elvis has now left the building.
Lee Westwood has finally decided to get the hell out of dodge, after 39 years in the town.
From the end of the year he’ll call Florida home, in the good ol’ US of A.
And I for one am shocked to my very core.
Although this will now cement my status as the area’s wealthiest and most prominent resident, I simply cannot believe anyone would swap the A60 for the I-95.
So before it’s too late, I’m going to do Worksop a massive favour, and change Westy’s mind for him.
There are many reasons why Lee should not sell up and ship out, because if we’re all honest, the Sunshine State has nothing on Bassetlaw.
Florida might have the theme parks and Mickey Mouse, but Worksop...er...has the canch and goofy teens who battle in a turf war over the skatepark.
Why would you want to visit International Drive when you can...um...wander down Bridge Street on a Friday night?
West Palm Beach might be attracting top golfers to Florida, but Worksop is...ah...pulling in the Polish like there’s no tomorrow.
Lee and his family are probably looking forward to the Palm Beach International Film Festival and ‘SunFest’, but won’t they miss out on all the new releases at Worksop’s brand new cinema? Won’t they be gutted when the latest gangster chav pop act comes to Clumber Park for the annual gathering of screaming scrotes?
I will concede that it’s a toss up between the danger presented by alligators, and the peril you face when walking past the living dead at the Trader Clock, but I hope Lee is starting to get the picture – look what you’re leaving behind!
Sure you can practise all year round on the sun baked fairways of Florida, but where’s the thrills that come from avoiding the Manton mafia as they skulk across Worksop Golf Club?
And I very much doubt that the Palm Beach Post has a columnist half as witty and entertaining as yours truly.
In all seriousness however, I can understand why Lee has taken this radical decision – if I’d been forced to sit through David Challinor’s jokes in return for Freedom of the District, I’d have turned my back on this little corner of paradise too.