Why The Apprentice didn't fire me...

I watched last night’s Apprentice, my jaw tickling the carpet in disbelief. Lord Sugar did his usual thing of separating the goats from the sheep, and later dismissed one of those sad animals with his famous finger-wave. Well, if I had sat in Lord Sugar’s seat, I would have fired all members of both teams, wiped the slate clean, and held over the lip-smacking, £250 K prize for the next round – yes, there is going to be another series. Alright, it’s wisdom in hindsight, and OK, those poor teasels are under the scrutiny of the camera. But they had so much to begin with, not the least of their resources being a guy who owns his own wine distribution firm. His team won, or rather, didn’t lose because the alternative offering was so dire. The only spark of talent was from a young lady who designed the good-ish product logo for the losing team. Again, wisdom in hindsight, but nobody on either team, when asked to epitomise ‘English-ness’ mentioned William Shakespeare. I had the entire campaign in my head before I went to bed. Picture this. A guy in a suit of armour cries: “For Harry, England, and St. George.” He holds up a bottle of St George (the wine), branded with a red cross on a white background. There is a flurry of Greensleeves, and a galliard of Renaissance men and women on a lawn in front of a stately home. They cease dancing, and a serving wench steps forward with a tray of filled glasses. One man – Prospero? – raises a glass and says “The stuff dreams are made on…” Far-fetched? Years ago, there was a sherry called A Winter’s Tale – is it still around? Costly? The losing team hired a stately home to film a lassie in a modern wedding dress…curious, that. There are Renaissance costumes for hire, the length and breadth of the land. So, there you have it. McCann Erickson, I await your call.