Three cheers to John Sergeant, who quit the show Strictly Come Dancing this week, saying that his performance had been "a joke to far".
Not that I watch, or have ever watched, the show. It's not really my cup of tea. Or even my pint of beer, glass of Rioja or tub of ice cream for that matter. As my wife's granddad would say in his broad Yorkshire accent, "Wot's t' point of watchin' a bunch of am-a-t's when you c'n watch t' real thing instead." (My source of information is the Metro.)
I just don't think this kind of show is the bee's knees, or the wasp's nipples (as the great Douglas Adams would say) or even the crayfishes' tinsy winsy toes.
In short, Sergeant's abysmal attempts to dance each week were slated by the judges, but his humour and popularity won him a legion of fans who kept him in week after week.
His hilarious moves included dragging his partner (Kristina Rihanoff) around like a sack of potatoes, stopping mid-dance to re-introduce himself to his partner, pretending to read a newspaper and stomping around like he was squashing grapes.
Apparently his next dance, Murder On the Dance-floor, was going to feature him shooting at the judges. However he feared that people would have found that too much to handle and resigned instead.
Too much to handle? What a shame. I for one would have climbed into the barrel, scraped through the bottom, dug to the centre of the earth, and actually watched the show.
I say it again. Three cheers for John Sergeant.