I tend to approach these little essays with the question "What does this story mean to me?" It is the question by which I hope to emulate the vastly more experienced Mr Hunt in producing seven hundred words which won’t bore the shoes off you all. The One Doctor arrived in the early twenties of December and thereby Big Finish hit a deadline (it being their "Christmas story") for the first and probably only time in their history. Although Zagreus may have come just before the anniversary. It was well into December by the time I waded thought that… other article I’ve yet to write.

I remember being reasonably pleased with parts one to three. Listening to it again it is very much a slice of its time. The obsession with the Weakest Link was in full force in that winter of 2001. It is a cultural beacon which, assuming the BFs have any great longevity, will baffle future generations. They won’t know the full force of Anne Robinson back in the days when there was a spark of reality left in her performance. She’ll still be doing the show in twenty years time but I fear she will have become so exaggerated that there will only be time for two rounds of the quiz.

Part four was Christmas Eve. Not just any old Christmas Eve though. That was the Christmas Eve of which I spent the entire afternoon being leaned on by the girl I was then hopelessly obsessed with. She had been in the office that morning but had obviously been drinking throughout as she was barely mobile by the time we reached the pub. She didn’t sit next to me by choice – I was in the loo when she chose her seat and, had she been able to focus, she would no doubt have been disappointed to find out who she was leaning on. So I sat there for about four hours, bearing her weight and drinking alcopops whenever anyone would go to the bar for me. I didn’t dare move. She was becoming less and less rigid as she carried on her conversations with people on the other side of the table. Her skirt was getting higher and higher too as she babbled away to people who may or may not have been listening. I was in mid table (think Tottenham with glasses) so there was conversation to the left of me and conversation to the right of me. But unlike the valley of death nothing was coming in my direction except half hourly bottles of something brightly coloured and deceptively alcoholic. Not being able to move for fear that she would tumble backwards and hate me even more and for ever more meant I had no idea how drunk I had become. I got home via an obliging father and the only thought in my head was that it was time to listen to the final episode of the One Doctor. Odd really.

So I listened to it with my head a-swimming and maybe just about followed some of what was going on. It seemed very strange indeed. And do you know what? Listening to it again recently I realised that it wasn’t the drink talking. The One Doctor really is like that. Somehow the years between first and second listening had involved me pushing all the silly bits into the final episode and blaming the drink. What had been Keys of Marinus with Biggins, jolly but ultimately sensible, had been exposed as four episodes of silliness. A crowbarred pop culture reference mixed with a nice idea plus an absurd segment with self assembly furniture. But the best part of it was that it worked. It actually bloody works. If ever there was a story which should’ve failed miserably it was this one. But it didn’t.

CD Facts

Part 1 - Tracks 1-8

Part 2 - Tracks 9-17

Part 3 - Tracks 1-9

Part 4 - Tracks 10-15