Whither Shropshire

Shropshire has become the go-to county for comedy writers, seeking somewhere completely unknown. 'Green, Green Grass', the spin-off from 'Only Fools and Horses', was where I first encountered it. Boycie has to do a runner from South London and the place he decides no-one will find him is Shropshire. Or, as Marlene puts it, “What's Shropshire?” Which was the initial title of my book 'The Northern Line to Shropshire', until someone pointed out that not only would hardly anyone know the answer, but even fewer would care.

In 'Twenty Twelve', the satire on the Olympics, they plan the torch relay but can't find any reason to go through Shropshire. They settle briefly on Market Drayton before deciding it's in Staffordshire. Only the other week in 'Miranda' the character played by Sally Phillips said she doesn't know where Shropshire is and she's just come back from a weekend there.

None of this competes with Martin Tyler at the weekend though. As I was snoozing through the Man City/Liverpool game, Martin mentioned that Joe Hart had previously played for Shrewsbury. There was a pause and he added, as though talking to himself, “Shropshire.” And then, at the next break in play he corrected himself: “Of course, Shropshire doesn't actually exist.”

Which came as an unexpected existential jolt to my Sunday afternoon.