It takes time to adjust to the end of another 'Apprentice' series. For reasons too complicated to mention, I have only managed to watch two of these epic, three-month battles and rather wish I had seen more. A poisoned left food and doctor's orders to do nothing too arduous enabled me to see ALL of 2009's offerings, the Year of Jasmina, big-mouthed 'Pantsman' Phillip, sinister Deborah, Sandhurst Ben et al, even tuning into Five Live for the day after expulsion interviews. A shopping expedition to Aylesbury was redeemed by an invaluable, cut-price complation of series past, so I can refer knowingly to 'The Badger' and other stuff.
Ths year it all seemms a bit anti-climactic and pallid. Must admit that, even as a golfaphobe, Darren Clarke's triumph at Sandwich meant a wee bit more than Lord Sugar's wary endorsement of nice but nerdy Tom's Bad Back Chairs. So too did the Murdochs' day out in Westminster.
It was fun but cruel to see Jim run out of cliches and unravel under interrogation. The Eastwood of 'Grand Torino' or 'Dirty Hary' would have fought harder and longer. I will be sure to give winsome Susan a cheery wave should I ever find her flogging exotic soaps and potions at Greenwich Market, but boy was she a pain. But what of Helen? So cool under pressure before, so clear-eyed and focused. Ten wins out of eleven, but her collapse on the last leg was worse than Devon Loch's at Aintree.
Lord Sugar clearly felt let down, so too, one imagines, Helen's friends and family. But the greatest shame and disappointment of all surely fell to Greggs. The finest bakery chain in the land (or in Christendom, I would venture) and she an annointed daughter. But come the hour, come the greatest test of all and what did we get? A half-baked (pun fully intended) life supervision service, seemingly plucked from some fourth-rate American self-improvement manual. Thinking outside the box streamlining the day to day....zzzzzzz.
What we should have had was surely a little Greggsian empire-building and some sound advice to the cash-strapped on how to fill your face for £1.79. All those years working with the company that gave us the Sausage, Beans and Cheese Melt, the awe-inspiring Soup and Sandwich combo, the mighty Tuna Bloomer, plus her own star performances on biscuits and pie n'mash and all we got a was a humiliating, last-ditch attempt to win over critics with a bakery-based Plan B. I was close to tears. Could Helen not have swiped a few secrets (chief assistant to CEO and all that), improvised some recipes (perhaps with inventor Tom) and come up with a GLOBAL range of high carb treats? As a longtime Greggs consumer I would gladly have taken on a consultancy and test piloted a new range of snacks. The mainstays are well-known and reassuringly British. But how about something a bit more Continental? For the savouries, a Wiener Schnitzel, Grueyere and Baked Bean Strudel could be just the ticket, leaving just enough room for a cheekily fattening Fudge Fondant or Marshmallow Mousse?
Waiting for a train at Newcastle, I was tempted by a Greggs Belgian Bun, topped by twinkling cherry. But such a heavenly treat felt wrong in the immediate aftermath of Helen's humbling. But like Gregg's under-rated pastry, she will rise again.
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