SERGEANT HAD A DUTY TO THE FANS
MARCHING OFF: John Sergeant
Saturday November 22,2008
By David Robson
How many devoted – that’s de-voted – fans of Strictly Come Dancing will not be tuning in this evening?
Millions, I hope. They will be missing John and Kristina’s “farewell dance”. And so they should.
“I should like to thank Kristina and all those viewers who have been rooting for me through the series,” said Sergeant as he announced he was withdrawing from the competition. In a week’s time he will be on a cruise of the Caribbean.
John, a couple of months ago you were just another vaguely amusing, slightly charming, defunct political journalist.
Now, thanks to us, you are a hot property. We had plans for you this Christmas but you seduced us then traduced us. Does
it make us angry? Of course it does. We thought you were the Dashing White Sergeant. You turned out to be a deserter.
You said there was a “danger” you might win; “Even for me,” you said, “that would be a joke too far.”
John, it wasn’t a joke. It was serious. Don’t flatter yourself that it was just because we love you so much.
We were desperate – the other competitors are an unbearably dreary bunch. No Olympic heptathlon gold medallists, no Barnsley cricketing legends, no Alesha Dixon – just a lippy England rugby player, a tall fashion model and a soap-opera nonentity.
We did quite like you John. Old people liked you, little children liked you, but mostly we needed you.
The judges are dreary, predictable and self-important. They hated the way we took no notice of their criticism of you.
They said it was their programme and it was being undermined. But it isn’t their programme. It’s our programme or, at least it was until you decided to cruise out of it.
Voting. That was the problem. The BBC likes phone votes because they keep us interested and give us the illusion that
we are calling the shots. But as far as transparent, democratic voting is concerned, the BBC is on a par with
North Korea and Zimbabwe.
It is a matter of record that sometimes we the public were invited to keep calling in to contribute to decisions that had already been taken; little children were suckered into thinking they could choose the name of a Blue Peter cat (the kids wanted Cookie, Blue Peter named him Socks).
If you think phone votes are a joke, John, what about BBC’s Great British Menu where the winner is chosen not by judges but by the votes of the audience who haven’t even tasted the food. That’s what I call a joke, but not this.
Next time you sign up for something John, try to stick it out until the end, will you? Don’t make a joke of it. You may have made a good career decision but it was damn bad form.
So off you go on your cruise ship.
Enjoy the Caribbean, don’t jump off halfway.
And be careful – there are pirates out there.
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