BLAISE TAPP: Early Doors recalls the warmth and generosity of the pub community

Even if you are unmoved by the PR-driven Blue Monday narrative, lousy weather and dark, long nights mean that many of us have sought a variety of ways to avoid the seasonal gloom. I haven’t had to try too hard, following the BBC’s decision to finally rerun the brilliant sitcom, Early Doors, a 21st Century classic, that is set in an unremarkable Greater Manchester pub. Over the coming weeks, wise old Auntie will continue to broadcast two episodes on BBC4 every Saturday night, and they will also sit on the iPlayer. Even though I was a fan of the show the first time around 20 years ago, its long overdue reintroduction to British culture has brought some welcome sunshine to the Tapp household this week. An hour of being reacquainted with the humdrum lives of Ken, the loveable but slightly dodgy landlord, and his ragtag bunch of regulars such as professional misery guts Tommy, best mates Joe and Duffy and oddball couple Joan and Eddie, elicited belly laughs and broad smiles after a particularly tricky day. In my opinion, I can’t think of a series funnier than this one in the last two decades and I implore anybody that hasn’t seen it before to seek it out because each episode is 30 beautifully crafted minutes of gentle, yet side splitting comedy. For its relatively small, but fiercely loyal, army of fans, Early Doors has long been regarded as the most underrated of television comedies, with its appeal coming from the fact that, crooked coppers aside, we instantly recognise the characters from the show. Anybody who has ever stepped foot in a local will relate with being bored to tears by inane chat about roadworks and temporary traffic lights, even if they were not necessarily on Birdhall Lane. They will also have encountered more than one curmudgeonly old timer who nurses his pint for hours on end and consistently refuses well meaning offers of a drink from fellow regulars for fear of being drawn into a needlessly expensive round scenario. I’ve frequented numerous boozers where longstanding regulars have been honoured with a plaque next to ‘their’ space and woe betide anyone who dares to sit there. I can recall an uncomfortable standoff in a regular haunt of mine between a local of 50 years who, quite literally, stood on the heels of an unsuspecting visitor who was perched on ‘his’ stool until he was convinced to move by the embarrassed guvnor. Although I still get out for the occasional pint or three, I am not a particularly loyal punter and haven’t found somewhere as welcoming as the programme’s fictional pub The Grapes or, for that matter, a couple of cosy hostelries that I used to frequent in my twenties. What I miss the most is the banter - the only time that word should be uttered is when it is used to describe the chat between locals in their public house of choice. Back in the late ‘90s, at least three times a week I would visit my rural local and, even if I ventured in on my own, I would be engaged in conversation within seconds of walking through the door. I became a sometime member of the skittles team, where fellow players would sing the Dambusters’ theme tune, whenever one of my balls bounced its way down the alley. It was a frequent occurrence. I also miss the warmth and generosity of the pub community, something which is often reflected in Early Doors. Although I haven’t yet discovered a pub I can call my local, I am certain there are still many such places up and down the country, despite the very many challenges landlords and owners face.