The Eye Of The Tiger

Last Saturday I compered a charity concert in my home town of Glasgow. I felt straight at home as my cab driver beamed “You’re Paul Coia. Nice to see you.” And then, because it’s Glasgow, came the put down line as he said, “ I thought you were dead.” Brilliant.

Afterwards I was sitting in a mini bus, squeezed between singers Midge Ure and Jim Diamond, when actor Tony Roper in the front seat said “I looked at the line up tonight and couldn’t believe I was on stage with you lot.” Then Midge said the same followed by Marti Pellow and Graeme Clarke of Wet Wet Wet from the back seat. In a night devoid of ego, along with Paolo Nutini and many others, we had gathered to honour an old colleague of mine who is suffering from ill health.

Tiger Tim is the only man I know who could have got all these people to drop what they were doing and turn up for him. Midge, originator of Band Aid with Bob Geldof, sang his number one hits like Vienna, Jim sang his number one I Should have Known Better, The Wets sang their number one record breaker Love Is All Around and Paolo sang around five numbers that are currently making him a superstar all over the world. Paul McCartney even recorded a message for the evening.

So what makes Tiger Tim special enough that so many people made such a huge effort? Well, it’s because he is completely, one hundred per cent, bonkers. A nutcase. A sink plunger short of a Dalek. A legend in his own diary.

I once asked colleagues at Radio Clyde to record a story about their favourite Christmas. Tim delivered his well after everyone else so I had to take him at his word that it was ok. I put it straight out on air to find he had recorded it after the Christmas lunch, was drunk, had exposed his bottom to passers by, and was then sick all over someone’s desk. His last words were “There’s a piece of carrot coming down my nose.” I though my career was over.

Tim would always make a point of dropping in to the studio when any of us were doing interviews, dropping a few remarks - and then dropping his trousers. Annie Lennox walked out early in fits of giggles, and Rod Stewart and other big names had to carry on as if it was an everyday occurrence. Often he would walk in to the news studio while the journalist was reading the headlines and wee in the waste bucket very loudly to put them off.

When I was at school, he had a big recording contract, supported David Cassidy in stadium gigs, hosted TV shows and made fortunes. One theatre boss told me that Tim used to come off stage and tickle Cinderella’s ponies in such a way that they took to the stage showing graphically just how excited they were to be in panto. Kids were confused, parents were irate, but it just encouraged him more. One night the ponies remained untouched and Tim could be found nowhere. Someone broke in to his dressing room to find him naked and handcuffed to the sink, laughing his head off.

He is a real one off. A unique talent, and one that will never be replaced as he heads for a well earned rest and his personal battle with his illness. Marti Pellow may be about to tour with George Benson, Midge Ure may be about to finish off his Ultravox reunion dates, and Paolo will pick up the rest of his world tour. But none of them will enjoy themselves, or laugh as much, as much as they did on Saturday.

And it’s all thanks to the one, unique, completely bonkers, Tiger Tim.