Jeremy Clarkson's right, don't worry so much about exam results - Sarah Todd

“Don’t worry if your A level results aren’t what you were hoping for,” he counselled. “I got a C and two Us, and here I am, 46 years later, with my own pub.” Adding, with more than a hint of self-promotion, “It opens next weekend if you fancy dropping in.”

There have been some corkers over the years, all starting in the same way with the mention of the C and two Us, which translates as a failure to make the grade, or “ungraded”.

Back in 2020 there was a hint of the motoring journalist’s intention to spend more time on his Diddly Squat Farm with: “I’m currently building a large house with far reaching views of the Cotswolds.” Two years earlier he reflected on “deciding which of my Range Rovers to use

today”. Glamorous holiday destinations have regularly featured, with lines such as “I’m currently on a superyacht in the Med” and “I’m sitting in a villa in St Tropez.”

Of course there are critics; the fun police who fail to grasp that this annual bragging is tongue-in-cheek and intended to provide hope that success and happiness can follow poor exam results.

It’s interesting to look back and wonder what was learnt at school that actually turned out to be a bit of use. Some teachers and friends were sniffy about this pupil’s determination to take typing rather than a more academic alternative.

Turned out, with a career as a journalist, it was the best thing that could have been studied and being able to touch type moved this teenage reporter to the top of the class. Other skills learnt in that office studies classroom - wonder if it’s still even offered as a subject? - have been beyond useful over the years.

From correctly laying out a CV to simple things like folding a letter so when the envelope is opened it comes out the right way around.

Do these little things matter? Perhaps not, but they have been real life skills and watching today’s youngsters, tapping away with two fingers on a computer keyboard or without a clue how to address a formal letter, the smartly turned-out lady who took those classes is often thought of.

At 18, a similarly styled teacher - big blow dry and immaculate nails - instilled shorthand skills. This, over the years, has also been a gamechanger.

Younger colleagues think they are clever with the recording apps on their mobile ‘phones but, potential technical problems aside, there is nothing intelligent about having to listen back to a whole hour’s interview to get ‘the quote’; something that old hacks will have got jotted down in the moment, all dated and marked up.

More often than not, those of us from a certain era can have the story written and ready to go before the full interview has even been played back on the young pretenders’ phones.

Like Clarkson, a bit of good humoured boasting but with more than a grain of truth.

Nothing else from school seems to stand out as being particularly useful. History learnt since leaving has been much more relevant than the reciting of Henry VIII’s wives of our day.

Modern modules, about subjects such as the Partition of India and apartheid in South Africa, seem so much more interesting and offer greater potential for making a difference in the world.

Studying English Literature at A-level was an eye-opener. That feeling of getting completely lost in a book and analysing every word and the slightest nuance.

It’s one of life’s tragedies that just grabbing ten minutes to read the Sunday newspaper supplements is hard enough; never mind getting lost in a challenging piece of literature. Even more tragic is that when there finally is time the old eyes will probably have given up the ghost.

But back to where we started with exams. Teachers, parents, employers and the wider community has a responsibility to not write children off who don’t get the best exam results.

It is vital that they feel reassured that the most important thing in the world is to be a kind and pleasant person; the rest will fall into place.

Performing seals, who can jump through hoops in examinations and have the homelife and resources to submit top grade coursework, are at risk of getting eaten by the sharks.

Cheeky chappies, like Mr Clarkson or fellow school dropout Sir Richard Branson, shouldn’t be consigned to the history books.