25 May 2011

Nothing has been done about Sam Wollaston

I don't get many visitors to this blog, and I don't complain about that: it's too irregular and too unfocussed to build up a following. (More than half the visitors I do get only come here because they think they're going to see something about Charlton, and more than half the time they're disappointed.)

But one of my posts that's always attracted a trickle of views dates back to April 2009. I suppose it turns up when people do a search for Sam Wollaston. Why would people google him? I think it's unlikely that people want to know more about him - he's adequately forthcoming himself about his own life, his career, his girlfriend, etc - but I like to think it's people looking for someone else who shares their disbelief that he keeps his job.

And now, more than two years later, I've got my first comments on the post, and I'm pleased to say they support this hypothesis. In fact the first commenter, Ronniespraggs, makes me look like Wollaston's biggest fan.

As for me, I've almost stopped looking at Wollaston's columns. I know that people will say that's what I always should have done: if you don't like it, don't read it. But for me the real pity of Wollaston's writing is the opportunity cost: the Guardian's TV review could be, and used to be, one of the delights of the paper, one of the first things I'd turn to. Ronnie and Linda's comments have made me look at his latest two columns, and it doesn't seem things have changed. This makes me sad.


Anonymous said...

the man makes my blood boil, and yes, i found your site when googling in anger. bring back nancy

Anonymous said...

His articles implied that he was from the upper class. Nepotism in the Guardian?

Anonymous said...

Bring on the vitriol, but I came across this site while googling his name out of interest. I have always enjoyed his writing. If a TV reviewer can make your blood boil and provoke this degree of ire, then you either live very sheltered lives or are just one more tantrum away from a stroke.