Metro 123

Richard Herring: Twins? Don’t put the boot in…

Wednesday 16 Jul 2014 
Well done to Charley Boorman for doing so well on the latest series of Celebrity MasterChef. Although, to be honest, I’ve been praying he gets knocked out right from the start.
Every time he appears on the programme, my Twitter feed fills up with people jokily congratulating me on my cooking skills. Because, according to them, I am the spitting image of the red-faced, crinkly eyed actor turned motorcycling friend of Ewan McGregor.
I first became aware of my doppelgänger before I even knew who he was. I was sitting, minding my own business, in a bar when a man at the next table leant over and said: ‘Well done on Long Way Round.’
I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘I beg your pardon,’ I replied.
‘Long Way Round. Great achievement.’
‘I don’t know what that is,’ I said.
‘You know, when you motorcycled around the world with Ewan McGregor?’ As if that was something I might have done and then completely forgotten about. ‘Oh yeah, how did that slip my mind?’
‘That wasn’t me,’ I told him. He looked sceptical. Like I definitely was Charley Boorman but was so up myself that I didn’t want to talk to strangers.Even though I don’t know one end of a motorcycle from another, perhaps I should just have pretended/said something like: ‘Oh yeah, I sure love motorcycling. Motorcycling around. With my good pal Ewan McGregor. Rrrrm rrrrrm.’ But I didn’t do that. So there’s someone out there who thinks Charley Boorman is a bit of a prick (even though by all accounts he’s a very nice man).
When I told my friends about this, they all gasped and told me I could be Boorman’s twin. I couldn’t see the resemblance myself. Boorman is a hideously ugly man who in another century might have made a living travelling from town to town in a cage, begging for peanuts. And I am the most handsome man in history. Yet, somehow, I still keep getting mistaken for him. I can only assume everyone in the world apart from me is suffering some insane delusion.
To further complicate things, I was recently sent a magazine advert featuring Boorman, in which he was promoting boots. The footwear was made by a company called Herring Shoes. You’d think if I was ever going to get an advert then this would be the one. ‘Who can we get for the Herring shoes account?’
‘Hold on, what about massively famous and talented comedian and columnist Richard Herring?’
‘Hmmm, maybe. He’ll be expensive, though. How about, instead of that, we get someone who looks exactly like him?’
‘I’ve always thought Charley Boorman looked like a much more handsome version of Richard Herring.’
‘Are you sure? He’s on TV and stuff. Wouldn’t it be cheaper to get Richard Herring?’
‘But if we get Charley Boorman, it’ll really freak Herring out when he sees an advert with his name and face but which he has no recollection of doing.’‘Good call! Another great day’s work at the advertising agency and it’s only 9.10am. Let’s go and take some cocaines.’Damn Charley Boorman with his Herring Shoes millions that should be mine. I will have my revenge. I am going to spend the rest of my life tripping up old ladies and putting cats in bins and drunkenly gatecrashing funerals and shouting swear words at the mourners. And then, as I turn to leave, I will say: ‘All in a day’s work for me, Charley Boorman. Now where did I put my motorbike? Rrrrrummmmm!’