Rest In Peace Paul

By James Masters

I was tucking into a large portion of seafood paella when I heard the tragic news of the 26th October 2010. A tear sprang from the corner of my eye and painfully rolled down my wincing cheek as I was told of how a modern-day legend had passed away in his sleep. It fell, with a splash, upon the assorted medley of seafood as I realised how young he was. No he may not have been the most intelligent chap around, nor the most handsome and I doubt he would have been any good in conversation but he was a hero. He oozed charisma and the world came to love him… Rest in peace Paul… Paul the World Cup Octopus.

If for some impossible reason you haven’t heard of the illustrious career of this legend I’ll quickly fill you in. Paul, an Englishman by birth, gained his fame in Germany by correctly predicting the results of eight world cup matches, at the infinitesimal odds of 256:1. He did so by choosing a tasty meal of molluscs from one of two containers, each of which bore the flag of the national team playing in that particular match. Quickly a media storm ensued; there were YouTube tributes, Facebook fan pages and Paul regularly made it onto the news. He even achieved the ultimate hallmark of glory – his very own Wikipedia entry.

Now he is no longer with us, his fame is immortalised. Paul on his death has entered the animal hall of celebrity fame, where he can reside alongside the revolutionary Dolly (the cloned sheep) and the much loved PG Tips Chimps. Although every animal in this list deserves praise, special mention must be reserved for Miracle Mike.

Miracle Mike was a chicken but he was a chicken with a difference. He lacked something rather vital to his general wellbeing but continued to live happily in his disabled state for 18 glorious months. Mike the Chicken had no head.

It was September 1945 and Lloyd Olsen, a farmer from Colorado, fancied a bite to eat and so went out, axe in hand, to slaughter his cockerel. Olsen swung down his axe, chopped off Mike’s head in one blow and thus was a tad surprised to see the bird casually preening himself, totally oblivious to his head rolling around on the floor. It transpired that the axe had missed the jugular vein and left just enough of the brainstem attached to control all the essential functions a chicken needs.

Olsen looked down at Mike who gurgled up to him in a pathetic attempt to crow, and thought he’d take the bird under his wing. He fed him a mixture of milk and water with a pipette and took the miracle chicken on tour. The American public went into raptures and flocked to pay the 25 cents to cluck over him at various sideshow tours. At the height of his fame he was valued at $100,000 in today’s money and featured in Time Magazine. Then tragedy struck. It was a dark night in March 1947 when Mike began to choke; he chocked and he chocked and Olsen desperately scrambled around for his pipette. In horror he realised he had left it at the sideshow. There was nothing he could do and with a stifled gasp Mike the Miracle Chicken breathed his last.

Sixty-three years later we are left with only the memory of another animal hero. An octopus who has inspired millions and brought many nations together. Never forget him! Every time you eat seafood paella think of Paul, our hero.