FREDDIE (where's the) STARR..? by Ben Scotchbrook

"Over to Ben now who's live in Camden. Ben..." says Katie in the studio.

"Up yours..." may have been a somewhat unorthodox way to kick off, but that was the sort of mood I was in.

You see, I was at the Proud Gallery with Martin (one of our cameramen) to cover an exhibition celebrating 40 years of the Sun's front pages. Sounds great, and if we're honest, the 'love it or loathe it' champion of all-things tabloid has printed some crackers over the years, not least, "Freddie Starr Ate My Hamster".

Anyway, as Martin and I walked in, we were looking forward to doing a live wandering round a gallery... rolling in a bit of a pre-recorded interview with former editor, Kelvin MacKenzie... and THEN chatting live with Freddie Starr: the big question - did he or didn't he? Excellent. That's what had been planned - that's what we were looking forward to.

Only, as we're lugging the camera-kit up the stairs to the gallery, the phone goes, and news-editor Lizzie tells me "Freddie's not coming. His agent says he's decided not to do it. He won't get in the car and he's turned his phone off". While I'm saying "B****r", Lizzie doesn't have time for such niceties and is already phoning around for someone to fill our 'live-sized' hole.

Meanwhile, Martin and I are walking into the gallery - only the gallery is a barn-like marquee on top of a building, with blow-ups of Sun frontpages sprawled around the edge. (Anyone who found themselves out and about on this particular Wednesday may remember the heavens not so much opening as emptying across London - which explained the army of people mopping up and putting out heaters.) Don't get me wrong - Sun-lovers should go see, but it just wasn't the TV-tastic environment we always hope for.

So, gone was wandering around the gallery: seats in the way, digital link wasn't going to work here. Gone too was Freddie (behaves like a) Starr: I frankly no longer care WHAT he snacks on. And teetering on the edge was the 3 and half minutes I'd been asked to supply for the programme: that has to merit a loud "B*****r".

However, all was not lost... while Martin and I wandered and wondered how we were going to bring a bit of life to this rather damp looking live, Lizzie had chased one of the six PR companies (could the Sun make a headline out of that?) who in turn had chased Kelvin MacKenzie... who in turn had agreed to do a turn... again. Now, there aren't many journalists who've wanted to hug MacKenzie over the years but when he was standing there, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me, I could even have given him a light peck on the cheek. So...

"Over to Ben now who's live in Camden. Ben..." says Katie in the studio.
"Up yours... Delors", I say. As if I'd say "Up Yours" to Ms Derham, live on air. Round the office may be.