The Strongest Link
George Watson
"What on earth first made me think
That I could be the Strongest Link?
Although for years I've been a fan
Of quizzes and the lovely Ann
The answer is, just be quite practical
Avoid all votes both fair and tactical
Confront Madame without a blink
To survive until that final wink"
The day finally dawned, the early morning flight to Heathrow, then a BBC taxi for the famous Pinewood Studios. Maybe it was that little piece of doggerel that got me through the audition and onto "The Weakest Link".
Well-meaning friends and family had warned me "they always vote off the oldest contestant first", "Scots have no chance down South" or simply "please don't embarrass us all!"
Half the fun of the day was meeting my fellow participants in the Green Room, which for some strange reason is black and white on the telly.
There was everyone from bankers to barmen, even a guy who'd fixed my car windscreen a couple of weeks beforehand. Inevitably there were a few eccentrics. There was seventeen years old Tommy, who insisted on doing back flips across the floor for no apparent reason. There was limp-along Doreen, "I'm sixty three you know"....I didn't tell them I was three years older!
The actual mechanics of the show are fascinating; the participants need to have different names, different ages, different towns and different shirts! There are three episodes filmed in one day, with a huge team of technicians, directors, producers, make up artists, hairdressers, sound men, and most importantly the wee man who shows you how to write on the plastic board, then turn it over so it's not upside down....a concept which sadly Doreen never grasped. When it came to voting, inevitably Tommy the acrobat and dizzy Doreen didn't last long.
Mrs Robinson (actually Mrs Penrose) duly appeared, a tiny, immaculate figure armed with computer assisted information geared to embarrass the poor candidates. To be honest, not as daunting as we all feared, but playing her polished role with practiced ease. The producer said, please, please, when Ann asks you why you voted for someone, don't just say "they got three questions wrong", for God's sake try and think of something more imaginative!
So lights, action, music....and sweaty palms. Tactical voting or remembering to bank? Neither, especially when Ann starts to wind you up and your mind goes even blanker than usual. Those who are voted off return to the Green Room, some annoyed, some relieved, each one disappointed.
By way of homework, I'd read Ann's biography. No wonder she's a feisty lady, a tough upbringing, a determined journalistic career, a few issues with the men in her life, not to mention the devil drink. Finally a career defining move into TV, even though the Americans didn't know how to handle her, she's become an iconic feature on British television. She was keen to chat after the filming, but was rapidly whipped away by the producer for the third show of the day.
So by late afternoon it was all over, back to Heathrow, and the phone call home to my wife and grandson, anxiously awaiting news of the event.
"So, was it an extraordinary day?"
Yes.
"Tell me you didn't take the Walk of Shame"
No.
"So you were voted off second?"
No.
"For goodness sake just tell us, we've been on tenterhooks all day!"
I only WON the bloody thing!
