Nine years old, ZX Spectrum,
One kid discovers video games.
Nobody knew where this would lead.
Nobody knew about the jorts.
Little Ian, joystick in hand,
Dizzy on the screen, another world at command.
Games, sci-fi, anime filling his head,
While sensible career choices quietly fled.
Studied media, learned the trade.
Shopping TV was where the groundwork got laid.
Floor manager first, then directing the show,
Vision mixer buttons, look at him go.
Made gaming videos when the day job was done,
Turned an obsession into something more fun.
Reviews on TV, press events on the way,
Paid his own trip to E3 twice, by the way.
Jorts never die,
Denim battle flags held high.
Space Buddies fly,
Ketchup and Mustard across the sky.
From a Spectrum screen to a camera light,
Ian Higton made the weird feel right.
Years roll on, but one truth survives:
The jorts never die.
Then Eurogamer came calling his name,
Thirteen damn years making videos on games.
Interviews, streams, VR on his face,
Chaos and laughter all over the place.
EGX stages, adventures abroad,
PUBG disasters that defied every god.
Built up a following by just being him,
Funny, enthusiastic, wonderfully dim.
Affectionately.
Platform32 kept the madness alive.
Space Buddies somehow learned to survive.
Ketchup and Mustard, tiny legends were born,
While Ian kept proudly refusing full trousers.
Thirteen years, then one day,
Eurogamer ended his run.
That part wasn't funny,
But Ian wasn't done.
New chapter, same beard,
Same games, same knees.
A different road was waiting.
Insert Coin.
Jorts never die,
Space Buddies fly.
From Eurogamer to Insert Coin,
The next damn chapter has been deployed.
From that Spectrum kid to the man today,
He somehow made being himself a career along the way.
Making people laugh just by being that guy,
Warm heart, weird brain, denim thighs.
So here's to Ian Higton,
One of a kind.
Jobs may change and years may fly,
But the jorts never die.
Games changed.
Jobs changed.
The internet changed.
The trousers got shorter.