What a weekend it was for Manchester! Manchester United made history by securing the league title for the nineteenth time at Ewood Park and Manchester City kept the Manc flag flying high by winning the FA Cup at Wembley!
It isn’t every day you’ll find both sets of supporters celebrating in the city of Manchester but this weekend showed it was indeed possible. And it could be a sign of things to come. We could be entering an era where English football is dominated by Manchester!
Showing posts with label ITV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ITV. Show all posts
Monday, 16 May 2011
Thursday, 10 February 2011
If Carlsberg did football matches...
…they’d be pretty bland. England played on Wednesday night. No really they did. They flew all the way over to Copenhagen to face Denmark in a friendly. Naturally, it being a friendly most of the senior stars conveniently got injured again. Steven Gerrard I’m looking at you. The match itself featured all the young talent England has to offer. In other words: Aston Villa.
Friday, 31 December 2010
Death by Sofa.
Christmas is all wrapped up and done with now so turning on the television is officially outlawed just on the off chance that someone left it on ITV.
If you’re unfortunate enough to be in ITV’s demographic, then you’ll feel my everlasting post-Christmas pain. Every year it’s sale sale sale! And what could you possibly want after Christmas? A sofa of course! Why is it after Christmas they think people will be after sofas, or beds for that matter!? Where is the logic? Have people been sleeping on newspaper for the past twelve months or something? “Oh look darling, turns out beds are readily available now! Hooray!” I mean, don't people usually watch TV whilst sat on a sofa? Maybe people spill red wine on everything over Christmas and need new ones, even so I’m sure Cillit Bang would get rid of it.
I think people are trying to avoid the inevitable VAT increase coming in January, because the sales this year have been served with an extra portion of insanity! People are mad, bonkers, loopy, crackers, off their rocker, and they need help! Who in their right mind would queue up in the hours seen only by owls and insomniacs, all the way down the high street in bitterly cold surroundings to be greeted only by a puddle and a drunken tramp? All to buy the tat the shops couldn’t sell throughout the year.
The very same shops that still make money selling the tat for half price. How much do they make when they’re selling at 100%, interesting thought. Either way in 2011 you’ll be paying 20% VAT on said tat, instead of 17.5% 2010 was plonking on top of it. I’m not entirely sure if shoppers will be deterred from the high street because of the extra 2.5%, they probably won’t be, which will delight Gideon no end I'm sure.
The big shops are still advertising though, Argos, Tesco, and many others are still trying to catch your attention coming into the new year. And it just wouldn’t be right if M&S weren’t ramming themselves down your throat with their pretentious adverts featuring that pervy woman. God help us, there’s another ad you’ll find on dear old ITV.
As I said, for your own safety you should outlaw television post-Christmas, and if you really must watch it, for the love of God make sure you don’t leave it on ITV. It's bad enough that they have nothing to watch on it, why do they have to torture us with their bloody annoying adverts as well? If I bought everything that was advertised during a normal ad-break on tele at the moment I’d come out with three sofas, a double bed, a Nintendo Wii game and a side helping of car insurance. All of which I would not need. But I’d take the Wii game, why not, and you don’t even need a sofa to play on it! Brilliant!
Happy New Year! Keep spending everyone, Gideon needs it.
If you’re unfortunate enough to be in ITV’s demographic, then you’ll feel my everlasting post-Christmas pain. Every year it’s sale sale sale! And what could you possibly want after Christmas? A sofa of course! Why is it after Christmas they think people will be after sofas, or beds for that matter!? Where is the logic? Have people been sleeping on newspaper for the past twelve months or something? “Oh look darling, turns out beds are readily available now! Hooray!” I mean, don't people usually watch TV whilst sat on a sofa? Maybe people spill red wine on everything over Christmas and need new ones, even so I’m sure Cillit Bang would get rid of it.
I think people are trying to avoid the inevitable VAT increase coming in January, because the sales this year have been served with an extra portion of insanity! People are mad, bonkers, loopy, crackers, off their rocker, and they need help! Who in their right mind would queue up in the hours seen only by owls and insomniacs, all the way down the high street in bitterly cold surroundings to be greeted only by a puddle and a drunken tramp? All to buy the tat the shops couldn’t sell throughout the year.
The very same shops that still make money selling the tat for half price. How much do they make when they’re selling at 100%, interesting thought. Either way in 2011 you’ll be paying 20% VAT on said tat, instead of 17.5% 2010 was plonking on top of it. I’m not entirely sure if shoppers will be deterred from the high street because of the extra 2.5%, they probably won’t be, which will delight Gideon no end I'm sure.
The big shops are still advertising though, Argos, Tesco, and many others are still trying to catch your attention coming into the new year. And it just wouldn’t be right if M&S weren’t ramming themselves down your throat with their pretentious adverts featuring that pervy woman. God help us, there’s another ad you’ll find on dear old ITV.
As I said, for your own safety you should outlaw television post-Christmas, and if you really must watch it, for the love of God make sure you don’t leave it on ITV. It's bad enough that they have nothing to watch on it, why do they have to torture us with their bloody annoying adverts as well? If I bought everything that was advertised during a normal ad-break on tele at the moment I’d come out with three sofas, a double bed, a Nintendo Wii game and a side helping of car insurance. All of which I would not need. But I’d take the Wii game, why not, and you don’t even need a sofa to play on it! Brilliant!
Happy New Year! Keep spending everyone, Gideon needs it.
Friday, 17 December 2010
Darling... You are a complete arse!
Well the festive season is well and truly upon us. What comes to your mind when you think of Christmas? Father Christmas? Coca-cola? Jesus? Well no Christmas wouldn’t quite be Christmas if it wasn’t for a bit of pantomime!
And this year has been no different, the BBC and ITV have been dishing out their annual pantos starting months ago. I talk of course of Strictly Come Dancing and the X-Factor! Strictly has pulled out some big names this year, Kara Tointon… nope, Michelle Williams… of girl band fame, and of course Scott Maslen… wasn’t he in The Bill once? Audiences spent the first couple of weeks remembering who Paul Daniels was, and once they did he was swiftly voted out. Okay, so the biggest star was Jimi Mystry, by default, but the biggest personality of Strictly this year was of course Anne Widdecombe.
Now, looking at Anne you wouldn’t really think she was built to be a dancer. And you’d be right. Her partner, the more than creepy Anton du Beke, spent most weeks snapping his back in half and dragging her around the dance floor until the public took sheer pity on him and voted them off. Expect him on an accident at work ad soon enough. Poor lad.
Eight eliminations she escaped. Eight! Is this show even about dancing? Well, obviously it’s not, since John Sergeant managed to fumble his way through last year’s show until eventually quitting, the show has been deemed about ‘entertainment’ rather than dancing. Even head judge Len has declared the show to be about entertainment now, no longer are we hearing: “Darling! It’s a travesty Darling!” They still give low scores but I think the judges have realised that they’re as redundant as a spare button on a zip coat.
Ah the judges, that’s what it’s all about. Four bored know-it-alls sit behind a desk stolen from ITV News look blankly onwards as an out of work actor twirls around the dance floor with a professional dancer from High School Musical. Sounds good doesn’t it? 11 million viewers watch this stuff!
The judges are there for a reason though. They give people a reason to watch, as once the dance is done the couple head over to Brucie who waves his chin at them and herds them to the judges for their weekly grilling. Judge number one is panto baddie Craig Revel-Horwood (boo-hiss) a man who could condescend Christ if he wanted to, sits right on the end and generally finds faults with everyone and has no qualms with ripping into the rubbish contestants. He is quite camp, knows his stuff, and likes to use the word ‘darling’ a lot. Generally what he says is right, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it!
Judge number two, is head judge Len Goodman, who’s spared the title of oldest man in the room thanks to Brucie. Len has the deciding vote and holds most of the authority. In previous seasons he’s been a bit like Craig in that he told the truth but nowadays he just grins at you like the gawping fish at the end of Mario Kart and says “thanks for playing.”
Next judge is Alicia Dixon, who replaced Arlene Phillips last season much to the bemusement of everyone except Arlene Phillips. I think Arlene fell out with the BBC producers and to embarrass her even further they threw in their answer to Cheryl Cole. Alicia plays the part of Widow Twanky, not the lead character but the one who just has very little to do except smile and say well done.
Last but not least is Bruno Tonioli, the most eccentric man on the BBC since Jimmy Savile. Bruno essentially plays the comic of the panto, he sits on the end and yells at the dancers exclaiming how hot they are “Scott-t!” Even if it wasn’t Scott dancing it’s “Scott-t!” that’s all he says. And God forbid if Bruce should get to him last, then he just acts like a sticky spring toy forbidden from jumping only to then be released as if by surprise, to which he ends up stood bow-legged on the desk yelling “It was magnificent! The best thing I’ve ever seen! I orgasmed twice! Marry me now! Exquisite! 10! 10! 10! 11!” The crowd obviously laughs it up while the evil Craig shakes his head condescendingly from the opposite side.
As for the dancing itself, it’s been alright. But what I have noticed this season more than others is that the dancers are using the judges' desk a lot more as a part of their routines. They’ll start by standing on the desk and waiting for the music to kick in and then leap off it. Sounds alright only the camera shot at the start gets to see four of the most awkward people sat looking up at the dancer. It’s just bizarre, I’m fairly sure Bruno farted one week just to relieve some of the tension as Len randomly chuckled for no apparent reason.
There are some decent dancers, but they could be better. Next year I want John Bishop on it! I went to see him live earlier this week and that man got moves! Get him on it and I might actually watch it!
All in all Strictly is a lovely family evening filled with favourites, bad guys, a cheering and jeering audience and Billy Connolly. Which is more than I can say for the other show sat across the road in the studios of ITV.
Yes, X-Factor, the newly crowned ‘most tired show on television’ since Big Brother finished earlier in the year. I can sum this show up in a word. Awful. No wait I can do better than that: Terrible. No that’s not good enough: atrocious. No that’s still not covering it: Harrowing. Yeah that’s a bit more like it, shouldn’t have really given myself a one word limit there, but I’d have been here all day if I didn’t.
I can’t stand X-Factor, I genuinely hate its existence. Especially the first few weeks where ITV literally round up people with serious mental health issues and throws them out on stage where they proceed to sing a crumbling rendition of Ronan Keating’s ’When You Say Nothing At All’, which is then followed by Simon Cowell and his motley crew calling them the worst thing they’ve ever seen (amazing how it keeps getting topped isn’t it?) and the audience laughs deliriously at them. They walk off in shame, crying, and are greeted by a smirking Dermot O’Leary who then takes a huge handful of salt and rubs it in their faces turns them round and boots them out onto the streets again. It is actually appalling. This is entertainment? Laughing at mental disorders on a Saturday night?
Well anyway, it bloody well finished last week, thank God, it’s the main benefit to Christmas falling on a Saturday this year. The winner was not Gamu, it was Matt Cardle, who I’ve only just now realised exists on this planet. He used to be a painter and decorator but now he’s the one being decorated by pretty much everyone in the UK media.
I’ll admit, I know nothing about the man, I only found the painter and decorator fact in the Metro where I read up on the amazing final that 20 million people watched. 20 million, that’s over 25% of the British population sat in front of a flashing box watching a bunch of nobodies crawl about on stage desperately clawing at the fabled 15 minutes of fame. I mean who was watching the other channels? Watch could’ve just shown hardcore porn and no one would have noticed!
To me, Matt looks a bit bland. Okay, he’s more memorable than last year’s winner (answers on a postcard), who incidentally entered the chart with his new single at number 68 on Sunday, but he seems to have the charisma of a moth-eaten cardigan. I don’t know, maybe I’m not being fair, I’ve only seen him sing once, and yes he can sing, but who cares? I’ve seen overweight middle-aged women being thrown around a dance floor dressed as a matador’s cape that have entertained me more than this guy!
Apparently Matt beat a girl called Rebecca and a band called ‘One Direction’, which is a brilliant name I have to say, I’m sure they’ll go on to great things. Anyway the cardigan won it and subsequently released his single: Biffy Clyro’s hit record ‘Many of Horror’. That’s when I thought: hang on a minute, according to an interview I read a few weeks ago Matt said he would only release new material, but what’s this? Looks to me like a cover version of an all round popular chart hit. So you lied to us Matt? How could you? Oh no wait, they changed the song title to “When we Collide.” Ah right well that’s alright then.
How gullible is this man? He seriously thinks he has his own life now, where he makes his own decisions. No, you are no property of Simon Cowell and you will go out there and you will sing and dance to the tune of whatever he sees fit until he gets bored of you and simply gets someone else from next year’s X-Factor! Idiot.
Matt was mentored by Dannii Minogue, the less famous of the two sisters, she’s the one who didn’t marry Jason Donovan on Neighbours. She’s one of the four judges and plays one of the more well liked ones. Cheryl Cole is the other female judge, who, to be honest is looking more and more thin by the day. I’m actually worried about her, has she forgotten how to eat or something? She looks like Olive Oil! If she turns to one side she bloody disappears! I’m not entirely sure why Cheryl is on the panel, given she’s an expert in pretty much nothing but she sits there anyway.
Either side of the lovely ladies is behemoth Cowell and Louis Walsh. Cowell, who is still looking more and more like a Pez dispenser by the day, is the meanie of the gang, Officer Dibble if you will. Louis Walsh, well, he’s just Bennie. Louis makes no sense to me when he talks, all I hear is the same thing. Maybe because it is the same thing! Every week he comes out and says to one of the performers “That was the best performance on X-Factor EVER!” If this show gets any better he’s going to end up having a heart attack! Every week it's: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Until the week after when he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Succeeded by the following week’s show where he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” You get the idea.
The X-Factor judges are boring. They have no personality, except for Cowell, they have no talent, and none of them say ‘darling’! At least on Strictly they have a bit of a laugh, alright it’s all aimed at Brucie and Anne Widdecombe, but fair play to them, they all take it with a pinch of salt and they're all good sports. They obviously want to win the show, but if they don’t they don’t go and cry about it. X-Factor contestants treat the show as if it’s the biggest thing that will ever happen to them. I walked into a KFC once, as crap as it was, it was still a better experience than being on the X-Factor. Get over it you bunch of ungrateful idiots. “I’m doing this for my pet goldfish who died when I was only twelve.” Oh Boo-hoo, why don’t you get a job! I’m sure Blooper would be chuffed with that more than this abomination!
Of course X-Factor, like Strictly, is just a panto in disguise. From the tacky set to the stereotypical panto characters sat behind the desks. It’s just cheap, crappy, pointless, soul destroying television. You can actually feel your self respect dripping from your ears whilst watching it, and if you close your eyes you can see your high school form tutor shaking her head disapprovingly at you.
Strictly is okay, good casual viewing, a bit of a laugh and not treated too seriously. X-Factor is rubbish, and you can say “Oh no it isn’t” all you like, it won’t change my mind, because it bloody well is.
And this year has been no different, the BBC and ITV have been dishing out their annual pantos starting months ago. I talk of course of Strictly Come Dancing and the X-Factor! Strictly has pulled out some big names this year, Kara Tointon… nope, Michelle Williams… of girl band fame, and of course Scott Maslen… wasn’t he in The Bill once? Audiences spent the first couple of weeks remembering who Paul Daniels was, and once they did he was swiftly voted out. Okay, so the biggest star was Jimi Mystry, by default, but the biggest personality of Strictly this year was of course Anne Widdecombe.
Now, looking at Anne you wouldn’t really think she was built to be a dancer. And you’d be right. Her partner, the more than creepy Anton du Beke, spent most weeks snapping his back in half and dragging her around the dance floor until the public took sheer pity on him and voted them off. Expect him on an accident at work ad soon enough. Poor lad.
Eight eliminations she escaped. Eight! Is this show even about dancing? Well, obviously it’s not, since John Sergeant managed to fumble his way through last year’s show until eventually quitting, the show has been deemed about ‘entertainment’ rather than dancing. Even head judge Len has declared the show to be about entertainment now, no longer are we hearing: “Darling! It’s a travesty Darling!” They still give low scores but I think the judges have realised that they’re as redundant as a spare button on a zip coat.
Ah the judges, that’s what it’s all about. Four bored know-it-alls sit behind a desk stolen from ITV News look blankly onwards as an out of work actor twirls around the dance floor with a professional dancer from High School Musical. Sounds good doesn’t it? 11 million viewers watch this stuff!
The judges are there for a reason though. They give people a reason to watch, as once the dance is done the couple head over to Brucie who waves his chin at them and herds them to the judges for their weekly grilling. Judge number one is panto baddie Craig Revel-Horwood (boo-hiss) a man who could condescend Christ if he wanted to, sits right on the end and generally finds faults with everyone and has no qualms with ripping into the rubbish contestants. He is quite camp, knows his stuff, and likes to use the word ‘darling’ a lot. Generally what he says is right, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it!
Judge number two, is head judge Len Goodman, who’s spared the title of oldest man in the room thanks to Brucie. Len has the deciding vote and holds most of the authority. In previous seasons he’s been a bit like Craig in that he told the truth but nowadays he just grins at you like the gawping fish at the end of Mario Kart and says “thanks for playing.”
Next judge is Alicia Dixon, who replaced Arlene Phillips last season much to the bemusement of everyone except Arlene Phillips. I think Arlene fell out with the BBC producers and to embarrass her even further they threw in their answer to Cheryl Cole. Alicia plays the part of Widow Twanky, not the lead character but the one who just has very little to do except smile and say well done.
Last but not least is Bruno Tonioli, the most eccentric man on the BBC since Jimmy Savile. Bruno essentially plays the comic of the panto, he sits on the end and yells at the dancers exclaiming how hot they are “Scott-t!” Even if it wasn’t Scott dancing it’s “Scott-t!” that’s all he says. And God forbid if Bruce should get to him last, then he just acts like a sticky spring toy forbidden from jumping only to then be released as if by surprise, to which he ends up stood bow-legged on the desk yelling “It was magnificent! The best thing I’ve ever seen! I orgasmed twice! Marry me now! Exquisite! 10! 10! 10! 11!” The crowd obviously laughs it up while the evil Craig shakes his head condescendingly from the opposite side.
As for the dancing itself, it’s been alright. But what I have noticed this season more than others is that the dancers are using the judges' desk a lot more as a part of their routines. They’ll start by standing on the desk and waiting for the music to kick in and then leap off it. Sounds alright only the camera shot at the start gets to see four of the most awkward people sat looking up at the dancer. It’s just bizarre, I’m fairly sure Bruno farted one week just to relieve some of the tension as Len randomly chuckled for no apparent reason.
There are some decent dancers, but they could be better. Next year I want John Bishop on it! I went to see him live earlier this week and that man got moves! Get him on it and I might actually watch it!
All in all Strictly is a lovely family evening filled with favourites, bad guys, a cheering and jeering audience and Billy Connolly. Which is more than I can say for the other show sat across the road in the studios of ITV.
Yes, X-Factor, the newly crowned ‘most tired show on television’ since Big Brother finished earlier in the year. I can sum this show up in a word. Awful. No wait I can do better than that: Terrible. No that’s not good enough: atrocious. No that’s still not covering it: Harrowing. Yeah that’s a bit more like it, shouldn’t have really given myself a one word limit there, but I’d have been here all day if I didn’t.
I can’t stand X-Factor, I genuinely hate its existence. Especially the first few weeks where ITV literally round up people with serious mental health issues and throws them out on stage where they proceed to sing a crumbling rendition of Ronan Keating’s ’When You Say Nothing At All’, which is then followed by Simon Cowell and his motley crew calling them the worst thing they’ve ever seen (amazing how it keeps getting topped isn’t it?) and the audience laughs deliriously at them. They walk off in shame, crying, and are greeted by a smirking Dermot O’Leary who then takes a huge handful of salt and rubs it in their faces turns them round and boots them out onto the streets again. It is actually appalling. This is entertainment? Laughing at mental disorders on a Saturday night?
Well anyway, it bloody well finished last week, thank God, it’s the main benefit to Christmas falling on a Saturday this year. The winner was not Gamu, it was Matt Cardle, who I’ve only just now realised exists on this planet. He used to be a painter and decorator but now he’s the one being decorated by pretty much everyone in the UK media.
I’ll admit, I know nothing about the man, I only found the painter and decorator fact in the Metro where I read up on the amazing final that 20 million people watched. 20 million, that’s over 25% of the British population sat in front of a flashing box watching a bunch of nobodies crawl about on stage desperately clawing at the fabled 15 minutes of fame. I mean who was watching the other channels? Watch could’ve just shown hardcore porn and no one would have noticed!
To me, Matt looks a bit bland. Okay, he’s more memorable than last year’s winner (answers on a postcard), who incidentally entered the chart with his new single at number 68 on Sunday, but he seems to have the charisma of a moth-eaten cardigan. I don’t know, maybe I’m not being fair, I’ve only seen him sing once, and yes he can sing, but who cares? I’ve seen overweight middle-aged women being thrown around a dance floor dressed as a matador’s cape that have entertained me more than this guy!
Apparently Matt beat a girl called Rebecca and a band called ‘One Direction’, which is a brilliant name I have to say, I’m sure they’ll go on to great things. Anyway the cardigan won it and subsequently released his single: Biffy Clyro’s hit record ‘Many of Horror’. That’s when I thought: hang on a minute, according to an interview I read a few weeks ago Matt said he would only release new material, but what’s this? Looks to me like a cover version of an all round popular chart hit. So you lied to us Matt? How could you? Oh no wait, they changed the song title to “When we Collide.” Ah right well that’s alright then.
How gullible is this man? He seriously thinks he has his own life now, where he makes his own decisions. No, you are no property of Simon Cowell and you will go out there and you will sing and dance to the tune of whatever he sees fit until he gets bored of you and simply gets someone else from next year’s X-Factor! Idiot.
Matt was mentored by Dannii Minogue, the less famous of the two sisters, she’s the one who didn’t marry Jason Donovan on Neighbours. She’s one of the four judges and plays one of the more well liked ones. Cheryl Cole is the other female judge, who, to be honest is looking more and more thin by the day. I’m actually worried about her, has she forgotten how to eat or something? She looks like Olive Oil! If she turns to one side she bloody disappears! I’m not entirely sure why Cheryl is on the panel, given she’s an expert in pretty much nothing but she sits there anyway.
Either side of the lovely ladies is behemoth Cowell and Louis Walsh. Cowell, who is still looking more and more like a Pez dispenser by the day, is the meanie of the gang, Officer Dibble if you will. Louis Walsh, well, he’s just Bennie. Louis makes no sense to me when he talks, all I hear is the same thing. Maybe because it is the same thing! Every week he comes out and says to one of the performers “That was the best performance on X-Factor EVER!” If this show gets any better he’s going to end up having a heart attack! Every week it's: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Until the week after when he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” Succeeded by the following week’s show where he says: “Best performance ever! It’ll never be topped this!” You get the idea.
The X-Factor judges are boring. They have no personality, except for Cowell, they have no talent, and none of them say ‘darling’! At least on Strictly they have a bit of a laugh, alright it’s all aimed at Brucie and Anne Widdecombe, but fair play to them, they all take it with a pinch of salt and they're all good sports. They obviously want to win the show, but if they don’t they don’t go and cry about it. X-Factor contestants treat the show as if it’s the biggest thing that will ever happen to them. I walked into a KFC once, as crap as it was, it was still a better experience than being on the X-Factor. Get over it you bunch of ungrateful idiots. “I’m doing this for my pet goldfish who died when I was only twelve.” Oh Boo-hoo, why don’t you get a job! I’m sure Blooper would be chuffed with that more than this abomination!
Of course X-Factor, like Strictly, is just a panto in disguise. From the tacky set to the stereotypical panto characters sat behind the desks. It’s just cheap, crappy, pointless, soul destroying television. You can actually feel your self respect dripping from your ears whilst watching it, and if you close your eyes you can see your high school form tutor shaking her head disapprovingly at you.
Strictly is okay, good casual viewing, a bit of a laugh and not treated too seriously. X-Factor is rubbish, and you can say “Oh no it isn’t” all you like, it won’t change my mind, because it bloody well is.
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Morning is Broken.
The most depressing thing has been happening over the past couple of weeks. Something so disheartening that even Carole Smillie goes into hibernation. No, I’m not talking about the X-Factor I am of course talking about our big, bold, beautiful sun. Yes, as I write this at 7.45pm the sun is a distant memory over the horizon of nothingness, which can only mean one thing. Winter is upon us.
So much for waiting for the summer. I genuinely can’t remember any summer at all. I seem to recall a week long warm patch back in May but that’s about as good as it got. Now before you know it it’ll be wet, windy, freezing and pitch black as you leave the office to head back to your dreary little town house.
Co-incidentally this horrible series of events has happened just as Daybreak has begun on ITV. It’s not exactly making life any easier for us now is it. You now wake up in the morning all boggle eyed, scrambling for the remote in order to get your first bit of sustenance from your trusty television, only to find Adrian Chiles and Frank Lampard’s girlfriend greeting you with a cheery grin. I say cheery, Bleakley seems to have mastered it but Chiles seems to be visiting the same smile doctor as the Right Honourable Gordon Brown. It’s like watching a bear wipe its arse with a pine cone.
You may have heard that the big transfer news over the summer was Chiles and Bleakley from BBC’s The One Show to ITV’s brand new morning annoyance Daybreak. Chiles went first complaining about Chris Evans (which is fair enough, we’ve all been there) but Bleakley took a while to make up her mind. In the end she left, but she stuck around long enough for the Beeb to take a cell sample from her and clone her. Yes the BBC have replaced the dynamic due with a burly Manc and Bleakley 2.0.
Now, the burly Manc I speak of is none other than comedian Jason Manford, who suffers a bit from ‘northern comedian syndrome’. He’s a bit like a poor man’s Peter Kay. He’s not that bad to be fair to him, to put him in perspective he’s not quite as good as Peter Kay but he’s still miles better than Paddy McGuinness. And if you don’t know who Paddy McGuiness is, he’s from the Greggs adverts, looks like John O’Shea, about as funny as a JCB running over your feet. Twice.
ITV didn’t just steal the presenters mind you. The got the set designer too. Daybreak’s is pretty similar to The One Show’s except it’s purple, very purple. The set has a massive glass window showing off the city of London in all it’s smoggy glory. Seriously you can see bugger all through it. The times I’ve watched it all I’ve seen is three seagulls fighting over a falling cigarette end one of them dropped and what looks like cranes building what I can only assume is a giant green screen so ITV can just put up a pretend sunrise instead of the bleakfest Londoners are subjected to these days.
Now, to be fair, I’m all in favour of Daybreak. I do kind of like it, a bit of a guilty pleasure I suppose, but I’ll take anything to alleviate the horror that was GMTV. A morning show so simple it was just plain insulting at times. Remember when they used to send Keith Chegwin round to some poor sod’s house first thing in the morning. I used to love it when no one answered the door. I’d rather answer the door to Noel Edmonds than that little git. As for the other presenters of sheer bland I’d rather line them all up and catapult them to a far away land using a giant slingshot just so that no one can be subjected to their drivel any longer.
But of all the absolute morons that presented GMTV my absolute worst was always Andrew Castle. I just cant stand the man. He’d be given special treatment, instead of the oversized slingshot I’d have to build a trebuchet just for him, one big enough to send him into orbit. Let’s see you belittle your audience from there you smug ferryman. Every morning I’d turn on the TV and there he was sat upright, next to whoever drew the short straw that week, with his smirking face and hidden eyes talking at you with his innate attitude of sheer patronization, argh it’s enough to make me watch Breakfast.
So thank goodness it’s gone. No longer do I have to put up with the horrible 80s set. No longer do I have to watch the painful chemistry between Kate Garraway and Ben Shepherd. And no longer do I have to sit and watch Andrew bloody Castle every morning. For that reason alone Daybreak is absolutely brilliant in my eyes. Now I only have to put up with him during Wimbledon.
Daybreak’s supporting cast are also better than GMTV's, yes Garraway is still on it, but she’s been given a minor role in entertainment thankfully. As for the weather girl she isn’t really the best, I’d imagine she’s a graduate, or a Blue Peter presenter because she has no idea what she’s doing. I’ve seen her a couple of times and each time I’ve found my self looking over my shoulder because that’s where she’s staring in to. She looks like she’s reading her lines off a large piece of card being held by an unusually tall man slightly to the right of the camera. What is she gawping at!? I really want to know! Is it a mouse? Jim Davidson? The apocalypse? What are you staring at woman!?
Old favourite Dr Hillary is still on it, giving out some mild advice, that can be found in leaflets, to the general public. John Stapleton’s been sent out into the field to find news, gives him something to do I suppose. And they’ve kept GMTV newboy Dan Lobb to read the sport, which is great news for him as he must have been having nightmares of going back to Sky Sports News to repeat himself over and over again to the unemployed.
As for Chiles and Bleakley they’re as much a married couple as ever. They’re not too bad. Better than the previous generation were. It’s pretty much The One Show's setup only it’s found during cereal time rather than tea time. The content is pretty much the same as GMTV: news, sport, ads, a guest, a chatette, ads, weather, ads, feature story. You get the idea. I have noticed though that a lot of their content is just ripped straight off YouTube, like the penalty save that wasn’t or the running dreaming dog. They cut short the YouTube clip and invite you the audience to text in and let them know which one you want to see more of. Which leads me to question: why don’t they just go on YouTube and watch them all yourself. It’d save you a text, and save you the adverts, actually no there’d probably be more adverts. Fair enough keep on texting.
Yes it could be improved. They could have an actual backdrop, they could have bettered the content of the actual show and they could stop trying to cosy up to me whilst I’m still trying to get the sleep out of my eyes, but otherwise I’m pretty happy it’s on.
What I’m not happy about is the fact that at the start of The One Show the great outdoors looks exactly the same as the start of Daybreak. It makes me feel so sad, so very very sad. I’m looking out into the darkness, dreaming of what could have been, wondering if the sun will rise tomorrow morning. All being well it will, but that's the least of my worries right now, Cheggers is at the door.
***
(Seriously though, Alex Jones and Christine Bleakley have got to be twins, or at least sisters.)
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