As Paul Gascoigne ploughs through the worst days of his life, he is totally and utterly alone. But then he always was, reflects Taylor Parkes
“Cries for help” don’t come any more blatant than cancelling a steak on room service but asking them to send up the knife, then attempting to drown yourself in front of the policemen who have broken down your hotel-room door, and sure enough he has been swamped in goodwill. The fact is, most of it is worse than useless (“Gareth Southgate has called on Paul Gascoigne’s friends to save the fallen star in his darkest hour,” reports the Daily Mail, as if that meant anything). While the back pages weep and fret, or offer worthless diagnoses, the news boys dig for gold: Gazza was begging in street, blared the Sun. “He tried to buy a Ferrari then his trousers fell down.” (In case we wondered, the article confirmed that “he was wearing no underwear”.) This reaction, all heat and no light, is as miserably predictable as the breakdown itself.
