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Actor David Jason has reflected on the highs and secrets of Open All Hours as he took on one of the most iconic comedy roles on television in the 1980s

Sir David Jason famously landed two iconic comedy roles in the 1980s. One was the lead in Only Fools and Horses as wheeler dealer Del Boy Trotter.

The other was playing second fiddle to Ronnie Barker as unlucky-in-love errand boy Granville in Open All Hours. With such a workload, some actors might have ditched the co-star role and concentrated solely on being ‘the star of the show. But not Sir David.

Looking back on Open All Hours’ 50 ^th anniversary, he says he would never have turned his back on the loveable put-upon corner shop assistant. He says: “I was never grand about ‘Oh I’m above playing Granville.. I have got my own series.’ No, I was just happy to be doing another character which was so different. I had this character that was the total opposite. The leading man, the driving force, the wheeler dealer.”

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Open All Hours is regarded as one of Britain’s top classic sitcoms. Viewers fell in love with penny-pinching stuttering shopkeeper Albert Arkwright (played by the late Ronnie Barker) and his endless efforts to woo ‘the lust of his life’ – the very buxom Nurse Gladys Emmanuel (the late Lynda Baron) while a string of regular customers would pop in and out of the shop in Yorkshire often being conned by his latest crafty tricks.

Added into the mix was Arkwright’s over-worked shy and awkward nephew Granville played by Sir David. The show was made for Ronnie in 1973 as one of seven new comedy pilots by the BBC who had lured him away from LWT to work for them.

Sir David, who is now 86, was excited to be among its cast as it meant working with the comic genius. Their paths had crossed when he appeared in his sketch show Hark at Barker in 1969 and he claims he learned so much from him over their years together.

In a new TV special called Open All Hours: Inside Out marking its 50 ^th anniversary this year, Sir David pays a fond tribute to the legendary funny man saying: “I couldn’t wait to work with him to see what I could learn from him.

“When we first started to work together he was a big star and I was in his shadow for years. Ronnie was at the top of his trade if you like. The rest of us crawled about underneath desperately trying to learn how to be as clever as Ronnie B but with that came the generosity of spirit he was so wonderful to work with he was good fun and he was respectful.

“It was a huge learning curve in my career to work with Ronnie B. It was a great journey to have travelled with him and learned his respect for showbiz and what it meant to be in it and to entertain people. A brilliant man.”

Audience research for the pilot of Open All Hours was very positive but the BBC wanted Ronnie for another show called Prisoner and Escort (which became Porridge). It meant Arkwright and Granville stayed on the shelf for three more years as the comedy was not fully commissioned until 1976.

But there was unrest about its scheduling on BBC Two on a Friday at 9pm. Writer Roy Clarke calls it ‘terrible’ and adds: “That was the equivalent of burying it.”

Even Sir David comments: “BBC One would have had the kudos over BBC Two but at least it was going out I suppose.”

Ratings for series one topped more than six million each week but, remarkably, the BBC went cold on the show. They wanted Ronnie to do more Porridge and more of The Two Ronnies with his pal Ronnie Corbett and writer Roy busied himself penning more episodes of Last Of The Summer Wine.

Meanwhile, Sir David landed the lead role in a new ITV sitcom called A Sharp Intake of Breath in 1977 and then in 1981 he was cast as Del Boy in a new BBC comedy Only Fools and Horses.

It was an immediate hit.

But at the same time, the Beeb decided to revive Open All Hours for a second series. This time it was scheduled to go out on BBC One. Sir David had no hesitation in juggling both roles as he loved playing Granville and knew fans loved the character too.

He says: “Granville appealed to the viewers as people saw a bit of themselves in him – a dreamer who wanted to see the world. Granville was wistful and a bit romantic. I was so happy to be working with that sort of personality.”

Ratings for the sitcom soared with an average of 13 million viewers tuning in. In addition to its main stars, the shop’s badly behaved till became a character in its own right. And the Carry On style humour appealed to the masses especially when Nurse Gladys used to comfort Granville in her ample breasts – something which always made Arkwright jealous.

Sir David now recalls those scenes with a chuckle: “She was so padded everywhere you couldn’t get any pleasure about being pulled into her bosoms.”

Open All Hours bowed out in 1985 after 26 episodes and even beat Corrie in the ratings. It always remained popular whenever it was repeated but fans never expected to see the corner shop again especially since Ronnie passed away in 2005 aged 76.

However, in 2012, Sir David went to the BBC head of comedy with an idea for a sequel. He says: “I always wondered what would have happened to Granville if Arkwright left the shop to him.. and the rest is history as they say.”

And in 2014, Still Open All Hours was launched with the actor reprising the role. However, the new twist was that Arkwright had died and left the shop to Granville who had turned into a miser just like his uncle and was now tormenting his errand boy son Leroy played by James Baxter.

James says: “I had the toughest role. I was nervous at the beginning but I was in very safe hands with David. He built this world, him and Ronnie and Roy so I never felt too scared. Arkwright and Granville are icons of British comedy. I will stand in that shadow. That is fine by me.”

Some characters from the original made appearances too including Lynda Baron, Stephanie Cole and Maggie Ollerenshaw. It was a huge hit and ran for six series. A seventh was planned but ended up being cancelled when the Covid-19 pandemic struck and the series was shelved for good.

Sir David – who has also starred in The Darling Buds of May, A Touch Of Frost and A Bit Of A Do – comments: “I always felt it would be nice to see how we round it all up so that we the audience would go ‘Oh that’s lovely, you know’.”

His wish is granted in the new TV special as he gets to dust down his old shopkeeper overcoat one more time as Granville for a final sketch penned by Roy Clarke. And he jokes about the script: “It might be rude. Knowing Roy Clarke it might be very rude.”

On the show’s 50 ^th anniversary he concludes: ““It’s as much as that? 50 years? Doesn’t time fly when you are having fun? I was so lucky to work with such lovely people who were so good at their job and had a wonderful sense of humour because this is what it is all about.”

* Open All Hours: Inside Out airs on U&Originals on Thursday 7 May at 8pm.

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A legendary NFL coach found linebacker Rod Martin not by scouting him at USC, but almost by accident.

The Oakland Raiders had a throwaway 12th-round pick in the 1977 draft, and then-coach John Madden grew frustrated hearing his personnel executives contemplate using it on a basketball player or track guy. Finally, Madden blurted out that he could find a random kid walking around the USC campus in sandals who could make more of an impact than that.

“Ron Wolf says, ‘All right, smart guy,’” recalled Madden’s son, Mike. “So they were a couple picks away and dad goes, ‘Let me call [USC coach] John Robinson.’”

Robinson had one question: Has Rod Martin been drafted?

Raiders linebacker Rod Martin stands on the field during a game against the Buffalo Bills on Dec. 6, 1987, at the Coliseum.

(Mike Powell / Getty Images)

“Dad goes, ‘What position does he play?’” the younger Madden said. “Robinson tells him Martin is a linebacker, and dad goes, ‘Good. Tough guy we can knock around in training camp. Have him run down on kicks.’ And Robinson says, ‘No, John. Rod Martin will make your team.’”

Martin did a lot more than make the team. He would go on to set a Super Bowl record with three interceptions in one of the most dominant defensive performances in championship history.

Martin, who would play his entire 12-year career with the Oakland then Los Angeles Raiders, is dead at age 72. The Raiders announced his death Monday but did not specify a cause of death.

“The Raiders family is deeply saddened by the passing of Rod Martin, a standout linebacker and key player on two Super Bowl championship teams,” read a team statement.

The franchise called Martin, “a beloved member of the Raiders Family and a favorite of Raiders fans everywhere.”

A two-time Super Bowl winner and a two-time Pro Bowl selection, Martin saved his best game for the biggest stage. In Super Bowl XV at the Louisiana Superdome, he intercepted Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Ron Jaworski three times in a 27-10 Raiders victory.

“What I remember about Rod was his ability to diagnose and react,” Jaworski said by phone Monday. “In the Super Bowl, he makes two phenomenal plays. He has three interceptions, but interceptions one and two — I’d like to say they were bad decisions on my part. They weren’t. I tried to squeeze throws in. He just made a great play. He was a great athlete.”

Three years later, Martin was still a key component to the Raiders’ defense in a Super Bowl victory over Washington. He had a sack of quarterback Joe Theismann, a fumble recovery, and a fourth-and-one stop of John Riggins late in the third quarter of a 38-9 blowout.

Born in Welch, W. Va., the son of a coal miner grew up in Los Angeles and attended Hamilton High before going on to play at Los Angeles City College and USC. The NFL saw him as a tweener, too small for linebacker at 210 pounds and too slow to play safety. Clearly, that was a faulty assessment.

Hall of Fame quarterback Warren Moon was two years behind Martin at Hamilton, and the two remained friends throughout the decades that followed.

“We met when I was a sophomore,” Moon said. “He was a senior — middle linebacker, fullback and center on the basketball team. He was the ultimate athlete. At the time I was there, I looked up to him quite a lot.

“He wasn’t the biggest guy in the world, but he was big enough. He had the strongest hands and the strongest forearms. He could just take a tight end or whoever came to block him, grab his pads, shove him off and go make the play. He was just a real solid player.”

It was those hands that grabbed an opportunity with the Raiders and didn’t let go.

“So dad goes marching into the draft room,” Madden said, “looks at Ron and everybody else and says, ‘We’re going to take Rod Martin, linebacker, USC.’ And they did.”

Garret Anderson, the often misunderstood and always lethal Angels slugger who starred in the 2002 World Series, has died of a heart attack. He was 53.

Anderson’s most memorable moment was belting a decisive three-run double in Game 7 of the only World Series ever played by the Angels. Yet consistency over 17 seasons — 15 with the Angels and one each with the Dodgers and Atlanta Braves — was the hallmark of the taciturn left fielder.

“The Angels Organization is mourning the loss of one of our franchise’s most beloved icons, Garret Anderson,” owner Arte Moreno said Friday in a statement. “Garret was a cornerstone of our organization throughout his 15 seasons and his stoic presence in the outfield and our clubhouse elevated the Angels into an era of continued success, highlighted by the 2002 World Series Championship.

Garret Anderson, who hit the game-winning three-run double, runs with the World Series championship trophy after the Angels beat the San Francisco Giants in Game 7 of the World Series in Anaheim on Oct. 27, 2002.

(Kevork Djansezian / Associated Press)

“Garret will forever hold a special place in the hearts of Angels fans for his professionalism, class, and loyalty throughout his career and beyond. His admiration and respect for the game was immeasurable.”

Nicknamed “G.A.,” Anderson is the Angels leader in games (2,013), at-bats (7,989), hits (2,368), total bases (3,743), extra-base hits (796), doubles (489) and runs batted in (1,292). And he achieved it all without fanfare.

“Garret didn’t seek the limelight,” said Mike DiGiovanna, The Times’ Angels beat writer throughout most of Anderson’s career. “A classic lunch-pail guy. He was a superstar, he just didn’t act like it.”

Fans occasionally booed Anderson for a perceived lack of hustle. He didn’t dive for fly balls and on rare occasions failed to run hard when he hit a ground ball.

His teammates, however, backed him without hesitation, saying he was one of the smartest players in baseball and made the game look easy through hard work.

“He doesn’t dive for balls because he gets there quicker than most guys,” center fielder Darin Erstad said in 2003.

Fans cheered in shock when Anderson made a diving catch against the Minnesota Twins in 2002.

“But, see, that’s what I’m talking about,” he said. “I never should have had to dive for that ball. I got a bad jump. I study hitters. I have an idea of where the ball is going. I don’t dive because I don’t have to.”

The Angels’ Garret Anderson watches the ball after hitting a two-run homer against the Toronto Blue Jays in the seventh inning of a game in Anaheim on July 4, 2008.

(Mark Avery / Associated Press)

Anderson’s understated demeanor fit well in an Angels clubhouse stocked with young, rowdy personalities.

“We have so many emotional guys on this team, Garret is a calming force,” teammate Tim Salmon said in 2003. “He’s criticized for a lack of emotion, but I think it’s good.”

For his part, Anderson possessed a wry sense of humor and wasn’t above poking fun at himself.

“Interesting,” he told The Times Bill Plaschke with a faint smile. “I used to be called lazy. Now that we win a World Series, I’m called graceful.”

After Anderson retired in 2010, he worked as a television analyst for the Angels.

Garret Joseph Anderson was born June 30, 1972, in Los Angeles. He attended Granada Hills Kennedy High, where he starred in baseball and basketball. He remained close to his baseball coach, Manny Alvarado.

“I’ve lost a handful, some of them at a young age, but this one we had a relationship for a long time,” Alvarado said Friday. “I have a ton of memories, some of them from day one and some just recently. The one thing that comes to mind he was kind of an old soul. A lot of major leaguers have a lot to learn from him.

“He was very humble and always picked up the phone. He made it to a lot of alumni games, was very generous.”

Anderson was drafted in 1990 by the Angels in the fourth round and made his major league debut July 27, 1994 versus Oakland before going on to become one of the most productive players in franchise history.

Anderson had a stretch of eight consecutive seasons appearing in at least 150 games for the Angels and played in at least 140 games in 11 of his 17 major league seasons. He was inducted into the Angels’ Hall of Fame in 2016.

“Teammates and fans came to appreciate him for his consistency,” DiGiovanna said. “He was like a metronome.”

In addition to his World Series Game 7 heroics, Anderson batted .300 with four doubles, two home runs and 13 RBIs during the 2002 postseason. He finished fourth in American League Most Valuable Player voting that year.

In 2003, he became the first player since Cal Ripken Jr. to become both the Home Run Derby champion and MVP of the All-Star Game. Anderson batted .293 with 287 home runs in his career.

His final season came with the Dodgers in 2010. At age 38 he batted only .181 but provided a settling influence on young Dodgers stars Matt Kemp and Andre Ethier.

The Angels will honor Anderson by wearing a memorial patch on their jerseys the rest of the season. There will be a moment of silence and a tribute video before Friday’s game.

Anderson is survived by his wife, Teresa, daughters Brianne and Bailey and son Garret “Trey” Anderson III.

Times staff writers Eric Sondheimer and Bill Shaikin contributed to this story.

Wales had endured more than half a century in the international wilderness, absent from major tournaments since the 1958 World Cup.

There followed decades of false dawns and agonising stumbles at final hurdles, until a golden generation of players emerged to inspire a new hope.

Bale, Aaron Ramsey and the rest had been around a while by the time the Euro 2016 campaign came around and, as those stellar talents approached their peak, they were ready to take Wales to new heights.

“There was definitely optimism, a quiet belief I would say,” says Hal Robson-Kanu, the former Wales forward who started up front against Bosnia.

“We’d begun to get results which typically you wouldn’t expect Wales to get at that level. We knew we could do something special.”

Having won three and drawn two of their first five qualifiers, Wales truly started to believe this could be their time when they beat Belgium – then ranked second in the world – in Cardiff.

Coleman’s side then missed the opportunity to seal qualification when they were held to a goalless draw by Israel but knew a point in Bosnia or at home to minnows Andorra would get them over the line.

And so to that night in Zenica, a hard, industrial city in the heart of Bosnia, soaked by driving rain.

Even with the security of the Andorra game to come, Wales could not hide their dejection after second-half goals from Milan Djuric and Vedad Ibisevic gave Bosnia a 2-0 win.

“It was the first game in that campaign we’d lost, so that feeling was just hurting us,” Coleman tells BBC Sport Wales.

“We were playing Andorra at home in our final game, we needed a point, and I remember thinking about our history, how we always fall at the last hurdle and I was thinking, ‘Come on, really?’ I fancied us to do something against Andorra, but you never know, do you?

“Then I was coming off the pitch. Our fans are to the left. I remember thinking, ‘They’re a bit joyful. We’ve just lost 2-0. Why are you doing this?’

“Then I saw Mark Evans (the Football Association of Wales’ head of international affairs), who had a look on his face. He said Israel won. And I swear he waited three or four seconds and then he said: ‘Cyprus two.’ He paused again and said: ‘Israel one, Cyprus two’.

“He said we’d qualified and then I just remember turning around and all the players were waiting for me because I think they knew before I did, and I just couldn’t contain myself. I just ran to anybody.”

An eerie silence had settled.

As word evidently reached activists in the last few weeks that disturbing allegations of sexual abuse against Chicano civil rights icon Cesar Chavez were forthcoming, things started to happen without much explanation.

Groups began to cancel long-planned parades, dinners, lectures and fundraisers scheduled for Chavez’s birthday on March 31. People who I’ve known for years suddenly weren’t returning calls or texts about what was going on. Longtime defenders of Chavez — who stood by their hero even as revelations in this paper and in biographies over the past generation showed there was a dark side to the man — suddenly became hard to reach.

When the United Farm Workers and the Cesar Chavez Foundation put out statements Tuesday morning that “troubling allegations” against their patriarch were considered credible enough for them to offer help to his victims, the silence transformed into dread. There was a discomfort similar to waiting for a tsunami — that whatever was coming would change lives, shake institutions and make people question values and principles that they had long held dear.

And like a natural disaster, what emerged about Chavez was far worse than anyone could’ve expected.

Wednesday morning, the New York Times published a story where two women whose families marched alongside Chavez in the fields of California during the 1960s and 1970s disclosed that he sexually abused them for years when they were girls. Just as shocking was the revelation by Dolores Huerta, Chavez’s longtime compatriot and a civil rights legend, that he had once raped her at a time when their leadership in the fight to bring dignity to grape pickers earned national acclaim and amounted to a modern-day Via Dolorosa.

The silence has transformed into screams. Politicians and organizations that long commemorated Chavez and urged others to follow his ways are releasing statements by the minute. My social media feed is now a torrent of friends and strangers expressing empathy for Chavez’s victims and outrage, disgust and — above all — disappointment that someone considered a secular saint by many for decades turned out to be a human more terrible than anyone could’ve imagined.

There will be questions and soul-searching about these horrifying disclosures in the weeks, months and years to come. We will see a push for the renaming of the dozens of schools, parks and streets that bear Chavez’s name across the country and even the rebranding of Cesar Chavez Day, a California state holiday since 2000 devoted to urging people to give back to their communities and the least among us.

The reckoning is only right. Much of the Latino civil rights, political and educational ecosystem will have to grapple with why they held up Chavez as a paragon of virtue for too long above others just as deserving and, as it turns out, nowhere near as compromised.

In any event, the myth has been punctured.

A portrait of Cesar Chavez on a mural on Farmacia Ramirez, 2403 Cesar E Chavez Ave. in East Los Angeles.

(James Carbone / Los Angeles Times)

Chavez’s biography always reads like an entry in the “Lives of the Saints” genre of books that Catholics used to read about the holy men of their faith. The son of farmworkers who became a Mexican American Moses trying to lead his people to the promised land of equity and political power. An internationally famous leader who lived a mendicant’s life. Who devoted decades to some of the most exploited people in the American economy. Honored with awards, plays, posters. Murals, movies and monuments. President Biden even kept a bust of Chavez at his Oval Office desk.

It was a beatific reputation that largely persisted even as the union he helped to create lost its influence in the fields of California and a new generation of activists looked down on Chavez for his long-standing opposition to immigrants who came to this country to work without legal status. Admirers kept him on a pedestal even as former UFW members alleged over the last two decades that the boss they once idolized purged too many good people in the name of absolute control. The hagiography continued even as a new generation of Latinos came of age not knowing anything about him other than an occasional school lesson or television segment.

I was one of those neophytes. I first heard his name at Anaheim High School in the mid-1990s and thought my teacher was talking about Julio Cesar Chavez, the famous Mexican boxer. I was thrilled to discover that someone had bravely fought for the rights of campesinos like my mom and her sisters, who toiled in the garlic fields of Gilroy and strawberry patches of Orange County as teenage girls in the 1960s, the same time that Chavez and the UFW were enjoying their historic wins.

“Who’s Cesar Chavez?” my Mami responded when I asked if his efforts ever made her work easier.

My admiration for Chavez continued even as I learned about some of his faults. I was able to separate Chavez the man from the movement for which he was a figurehead. Long-maligned communities seek heroes to emulate, to draw hope from, to hang on their walls and share their quotes on social media. We create them even as we ignore that they’re flesh and blood just like us.

Chavez seemed like the right man at the right moment as Mexican Americans rose up like never before to battle discrimination and segregation. Now, Latinos and others who admired Chavez have to grapple with his moral failings of the worst possible magnitude at the worst possible time: when there’s an administration doing everything possible to crush Latinos and we’re looking for people to look up to like never before.

He remains one of the few Latino civil rights leaders known nationwide — and Chavez is nowhere near as known as acolytes make him out to be. Some people will argue that it’s unfair he will likely get wiped away from the public sphere while other predatory men from the past and present largely maintain their riches and reputations.

But that’s looking at the abuse revelations the wrong way. For now, I will follow what those most directly affected by Chavez’s actions are telling us to do.

The UFW and Cesar Chavez Foundation were wise to not try to defend the indefensible in their statements and instead consider any victims first before deciding how to decide what’s next for them.

The Chavez family put out a news release that states “we honor the voices of those who feel unheard and who report sexual abuse.”

Huerta wrote in an online essay: “Cesar’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement. The farmworker movement has always been bigger and far more important than any one individual.”

Another of his victims told the New York Times of Chavez’s legacy: “It makes you rethink in history all those heroes. The movement — that’s the hero.”

The fountain in the Memorial Garden surrounds the gravesite of Cesar Chavez and his wife Helen Chavez at Cesar E. Chavez National Monument in Keene, Calif.

(Francine Orr)

The face of that movimiento brought inspiration to millions and improved the lives of hundreds of thousands. That’s why we shouldn’t cancel the good that Chavez fought for alongside so many; we should direct the adulation he once attracted and the anger he’ll now rightfully receive toward the work that still needs to be done.

To quote an old UFW slogan that Chavez transformed into a mantra, la lucha sigue — the fight continues. It’s a statement that’s more pertinent than ever, damn its imperfect messenger.