Happy 50th Anniversary, Doctor Who

I'd just like to take some time out to wish Doctor Who a happy 50th birthday.

For me, this is a personal piece. It's about what Doctor Who means to me, and what it has done for me over the 31 (almost 32) years that I've been around for. So please forgive me if this piece is a little patchwork in some places, but I just wanted to give a collection of thoughts on the show.

I first saw Doctor Who in the early 1980's. It's one of my earliest memories, watching a beta max recording of "The Five Doctors". My clear memory was of the Dalek blowing up after chasing the 1st Doctor and Susan. And after that my next memory was of "Time and the Rani" from 1987. I remember seeing Mel go up in that bubble trap set by the Rani. And then I remember being petrified when Ace turned around with yellow eyes in "Survival". So technically Sylvester McCoy was my first Doctor. I must have watched most of the 7th Doctor stories on original broadcast, because I remember that as soon as it finished every evening, my Mum would get me ready for bed.

Then during the late 80's my Dad would buy the VHS releases. "Death to the Daleks" and "Day of the Daleks" were the first few we got and I watched them over and over again (including the two Cushing films, which still hold a place in my heart).

I had a number of Dapol Daleks as a kid and a toy TARDIS as well. I remember being frustrated with the TARDIS as it fell apart so easily. As I didn't have a console toy, I ended up gluing the box together (something I regretted years later). I also remember a few years later, my Mum had bought me an Ice Warrior figure, but the morning it arrived at the door, she took it away and I had to wait until Christmas (!). But that Christmas I almost had a fit. We caught it on home video as I not only got my Ice Warrior, but also a 4th Doctor and K9 figure!

In 1992 I remember putting together a "Radio Who" programme. It was really just me messing about, playing selected Doctor Who music and putting them to tape with me talking between items. Lot's of fun!

But the big Doctor Who madness kicked in around the same time that I met my good friend Alex. He didn't know much about Doctor Who at the time. Myself, Alex and Matthew (another friend) were in the playground playing Doctor Who. I was the Doctor, Matthew the companion, and Alex wanted to be...the Doctor. No, no, no. That wasn't going to work. But sure enough, all three of us became the Doctor in that playground. Except this was different. Apart from my stint as the 2nd Doctor, all three of us created future incarnations.

Now, you have to remember that this was 1992 - when we only had 7 Doctors. So, I became the 8th Doctor - a bald headed, wacky, leopard-skin-coat-wearing Doctor in the guise of Richard O'Brien. Matthew became a curly haired, mustachioed 11th Doctor, and Alex became the slightly older, wiser and romantic 13th Doctor, along with his companion Ace (who had decided to travel with him again.)

So together we had big adventures in the small playground. But during the spring of 1993, we realised that we were growing up, and in a few weeks we'd be splitting up and heading off to separate secondary schools.
Our Playground Adventures had to come to an end. So we devised a finale on the very last day of school. The 8th, 11th and 13th Doctor's were gathered at the edge of the playground. ALL of the Doctor's companions had come to join the final battle...
All the 13th Doctor had to do was flip a switch or something, but he had to travel over deadly land (a piece of grass) to do it! And he did. The 13th Doctor sacrificed his life. With no more regeneration's left, he lay on the ground, dead.
But then the Time Lords appeared. They felt it too much to allow the Doctor to be gone forever, so instead they granted him a new set of regeneration's. But this time, the Doctor would be different.
As the Doctor regenerated, the 8th Doctor had the final line. "Oh yes, he's going to be very different."

The final act of the Playground Adventures was the birth of the 14th Doctor - and the hilarious situation that

Alex, now playing the 14th Doctor, had regenerated into a woman!

And then the school bell rang, and it was over. We had to grow up and move on.

But we didn't leave Doctor Who behind us. Alex and I remained good friends for years after, both obsessed with our favourite TV show.

I was collecting the magazines that my Grandma purchased  every month for me, my Dad bought each video when they came out, and there are many Saturday nights that I spent at my Dad's flat, light's off, engrossed in an old grainy Hartnell story, or a familiar McCoy story.

And Alex and I used to dress up. I remember going to a sci-fi market at the Town Hall. Alex was dressed as the 4th Doctor and myself in the 6th Doctor's trousers (I never really went the whole hog and got fully dressed up.) It was then when we made the most magical of discoveries. A dealer was offering us a copy of "The Tenth Planet" and a few other remaining episodes. Alex and I were so excited as we got them and ran back to his house. That normal, quiet Saturday afternoon was changed when we popped on the VHS and watched "The Tenth Planet". It was grainy and bad quality, but this is something I never thought we'd see. And not only that, but some silent cine clips from lost stories were tacked onto the end of the tape! Amazing! We even called the BBC to tell them about these clips. They already knew, of course!

In 1996, the proper 8th Doctor - Paul McGann - came along. Doctor Who was back! I remember recounting the entire story to someone at school. The entire thing. It was an amazing experience.

I collected books and other paraphernalia. We attended Grimsby gatherings were we watched "The Greatest Show in the Galaxy" recorded from the TV and I met Sarah Sutton (Nyssa). These were the magical days of my childhood. Doctor Who was virtually gone from the screen. I was laughed at for liking the show, but I didn't care. These days were the ones that have stuck in my mind the most.

But, as with all things, my interest faded a little. By the time I'd reached 16, I was more interested in music, college and girls. And then as I turned 18 it was all about going for a drink with the lads. I stopped getting the videos and Doctor Who Magazine. It seemed to me, that I'd exhausted everything relating to Doctor Who. It was time to move on.

But then, in around 2001, out of curiosity, I picked up "The Fearmonger" - a 7th Doctor audio story by Big Finish. Here, once again, was new Doctor Who. Brand new, shiny, perfect Doctor Who featuring the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Doctor's. And I fell in love with the show all over again, collecting the magazine, 8th Doctor books and the Big Finish audios. And I often wondered why I had ever left the programme for those few years.

Then, in 2003, it was announced that Dotor Who was returning. I was at my ex-girlfriends in Germany when I found out who the 9th Doctor was going to be. I remember feeling frustrated at the time that they weren't continuing with the 8th, as Paul McGann had been excellent on audio, but I soon warmed to the 9th Doctor.

And so Doctor Who came around again. I clearly remember that my girlfriend was supposed to be coming to Grimsby on the weekend of the broadcast of "Rose". She changed her mind and instead got us tickets to see Keane on that very night. I think we almost split up because of it, and it must have contributed somewhat to our eventual break up as bizarre as that sounds! So instead of watching "Rose", I swallowed my anger and went to Germany. By the time I'd gotten back, Eccleston had already quit the role and I had to watch the first episode of a brand new story knowing that this excellent Doctor would soon be gone.

I got my ex into Doctor Who. She fell in love with Captain Jack. Even her parents got into it. I have a happy memory of bringing a VHS recording of "The Christmas Invasion" to Germany and myself, Sarah and her parents sat around watching it.

We all know what happened to Doctor Who after that. The programme became massive. It became huge. So much bigger than mine and Alex's Playground Adventure days. Now I wasn't laughed at for being a Doctor Who fan. Everybody wanted to be one. The Doctor had reached the point that I always knew he should have been at.

And now here we are, in the 50th year. These past few weeks I've watched some amazing things on TV. I've exploded with delight at seeing Paul McGann's 8th Doctor return to TV. I've cried at watching the drama of William Hartnell and his "I don't want to go," after he had been moved on by the BBC from the role. Even my Richard O'Brien Doctor lives on, 21 years later, in my fan fiction stories "Doctor Who: Darkpaths". Although the stories and situation doesn't resemble anything I did at the age of 10!

Tonight I'm going to the cinema - THE CINEMA! - to watch "The Day of the Doctor". It was always a dream that I'd get to see Doctor Who at the cinema one day. Now that boyhood dream has come true.

And my wife is into Doctor Who as well. It's so wonderful to be able to share this wonderful show with the person closest to me.

Doctor Who has changed me over my life. It's made me into the person I am today. Yes, it's just a TV show, but it's much, much more than that. It's fantastic and it's beautiful and it's one of the happiest, most hopeful things in my life.

Thank you to William Hartnell, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Colin Baker, Sylvester McCoy, Paul McGann, Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant, Matt Smith, and everyone else who has been involved in making this phenomenon.

And finally, Happy Birthday Doctor Who!