If you’ve ever thought about cutting corners or fancied yourself as a wheeler-dealer, chances are Arthur Daley, the man, the myth, the well-tailored legend from Minder, had a hand in your imagination. Played by the inimitable George Cole, Arthur wasn’t just a character on your telly; he was an entire vibe, wrapped up in camel coats, cigars, and a never-ending quest for "a nice little earner." He was Del Boy before Del Boy, the godfather of questionable deals and the original entrepreneur of the backstreet economy.
Let’s face it, Arthur Daley was the British dream – if that dream involved ducking taxes, flogging dodgy motors, and convincing everyone else to take the fall. From 1979 to 1994, he was the heartbeat of Thames Television’s Minder, an almost lovable rogue who embodied the cheeky, rule-bending spirit of a generation.
For Arthur, life was a negotiation. Whether it was selling motors that looked like they’d fall apart if you breathed too hard, or turning up at the Winchester Club for “business meetings” that looked suspiciously like an afternoon on the lash, Arthur was always working an angle. And while he may have had all the moral backbone of a bent paperclip, you couldn’t help but root for him. After all, who doesn’t love a man who could sell sand to the Saudis and ice to Eskimos?
Arthur wasn’t just about the hustle; he was a fashion icon in his own way. His camel overcoat became the uniform of the aspiring dodgy geezer, and his love for a three-piece suit was a masterclass in dressing for the deal you want, not the deal you have. Pair that with a cigar perpetually glued to his hand and a knowing wink, and you had a man who was both utterly ridiculous and undeniably suave. If Instagram had existed in his day, he’d have been posting pics of himself next to motors he’d just flogged, hashtagging #BossLife while Terrence "Terry" McCann, his long-suffering minder, stood awkwardly in the background.
But don’t be fooled – behind the wisecracks and dodgy deals, Arthur was as sharp as they come. He may have looked like a used-car salesman, but the man could out-think anyone in the room. Sure, most of his plans went belly-up, but that didn’t matter. Arthur wasn’t in it for the wins; he was in it for the game. Every scheme, every scam was a testament to his unshakable belief in himself.
And let’s not forget his dynamic with Terry, the ex-boxer turned reluctant babysitter. Terry was the muscle to Arthur’s mouth, the yin to his yang, and the perpetual victim of Arthur’s harebrained schemes. Their friendship, or whatever you want to call it, was a quintessentially British bromance: full of bickering, blind loyalty, and just the right amount of moral ambiguity.
Arthur Daley wasn’t just a character; he was a cultural icon. He taught us that life’s too short to play by the rules, that there’s always a deal to be made, and that no matter how much trouble you get into, you can always sort it down the Winchester over a pint and a pork pie. And for that, we’ll always raise a glass to the dodgiest geezer in TV history. Cheers, Arthur. You’ve earned it.
