Mark Andrews: What's in a name?

It happens all the time. Not a week goes by without a message telling me about my growing reputation as a leading expert on subjects I know nothing about. My name has been referred to in a study in the United States, and also in a paper published in the International Journal of Modern Trends in Engineering and Research. My 860th mention was in a biochemistry, genetics and molecular biology paper. Since then, I'm informed I have been featured in research by Cedric de Coning. Haven't we all?

There are two possible explanations for this. The first, and slightly terrifying one, is that these columns are being taken a little bit more seriously than intended. That my musings about broken lawn mowers, David Icke and people queuing for the tip are actually being studied by the world's greatest minds, and probably forming the basis of the Government's policy on coronavirus. When Boris Johnson talks about 'following the science', he probably means deferring to microbiologists and biochemists who have read my thoughts about idiots licking the toilet bowl for the 'coronavirus challenge', and produced a scientific study based on the evidence. No wonder 'bonking professor' Neil Ferguson thought it OK to break the rules.

The alternative, and hopefully more likely explanation, is that I share my name with somebody considerably more learned than myself. And it is quite possible that the very clever Mark Andrews, the one behind the international papers in biochemistry, is actually logging on each morning to find his inbox filled with press releases about the transport select committee reports and weird surveys about how people from Telford have spent lockdown making sex toys out of aubergines and smartphones. Yes, really.

That is the downside with having such a common name. But at least my mentions on Academia are reasonably polite and inoffensive. Which is more than can be said of the ones on Trustpilot. It is quite an eye opener to see your name followed by diatribes of "scum", "scammers" and "cowboys" from people you have never heard of, although in my defence they appear to relate to a now-defunct chain of used car dealers which didn't exactly enjoy a five-star rating. Nothing to do with me guv'nor, honest.

It's nothing new. In my early days in this trade, there was a political activist called Mark Andrews, who regularly wrote letters to various local newspapers, often proposing quite radical ideas. This made things a little difficult when dealing with the local bigwigs of the time, who always seemed a little suspicious of my motives. One particularly strange moment came back in the 1990s, when I was spending a day with a newly elected MP. After a very amicable hour or so, she decided to turn the tables and started asking me questions about politics. Slightly surprised by my confused expression and non-committal answers, she then asked me if I had sponsored a rival candidate. She obviously had no idea of how stingy I am.

There was a bit more ribbing when Mark Andrews the Punch-and-Judy man also appeared in the paper, and I also have a namesake who works as a DJ in Lichfield.

Yet while people seem more than happy to believe I might be a boffin or small-time politician, I have never managed to convince people I am the namesake I would like them to think I am: international wrestling superstar Mark 'Lightning Kid' Andrews. Despite looking uncannily like him, and sharing a nickname – for some reason we have both become known as 'Mandrews' in our respective fields – nobody ever believes me when I try to pass off his picture as me.

This used to rankle a little – after all, we've both got the same boyish good looks, eye-catching fashion sense, and bulging physiques, so why wouldn't people think we're one and the same?

Then I discovered the real reason. He is four inches shorter than me.