In the aftermath of a horrific event, the most important thing is to get back to a kind of normality, and Phillip Schofield isn’t about to roll over and bow to the will of terrorists.
A man – a man, as though the heart of a lion, soul of an eagle and righteous fervour of Jesus at a U2 concert could be embodied in a mere man – a man with resolve only as steely as his hair, The Schofe woke up this morning and said to himself: “Right, then. Bloody right, then.”
“Today is the day I show those terrorist ratbags what for. If you’re coming for Great Britain, you’d better be ready for sackful of Schofield in return, and let me tell you, son: these are some bloody big sacks.
“I will not cower inside when there’s a battle to be fought. I will not allow darkness to consume us when there is a light that shines in me – in all of us, yes, but to a large degree shining in me – not so large as to be big-headed, but noticeably large, like a St. Bernard or a Big Mac – I will, and this I vow…
“I will walk over Westminster Bridge, in TRIBUTE and DEFIANCE.”
And that, dear children, is exactly what he did.
There was just no stopping him. He simply put one foot in front of the other, with each step kicking sand in the face of ISIS, stubbing a broad British toe in the hairy bollock of religious fundamentalism. Neither terrorist nor lolly-gagging tourist was going to stop The Schofe crossing the Thames today.
It was, quite simply, a staggering act of walking. Words like “courage”, “valour”, “gallantry”, “fortitude” – these words don’t even come close to describing what The Schofe did today.
In many ways, it was the perfect tribute, in as much as it required next to no effort, as all the best tributes do. We all remember the tributes we paid to the late great Chuck Berry when we hummed the opening riff of Johnny B. Goode while doing the washing up, or the victims of 9/11 when we looked at the calendar and realised that it was 9/11.
Touching? I haven’t been touched like this since I went to the physio about my fat ankle. It was nothing major, just a bit of swelling that would go away with time and a bit of light walking. A lot like terrorism, really.
So we salute you, Phillip Schofield. As long as The Schofe is out there, walking over bridges and taking pictures and putting them on Instagram, we need never fear the grip of evil.
