Appreciate your assets. As Sally's crusade against the parking situation continued, Tim spent much of the week grumbling about her determination and single-mindedness. This is what you get when you marry Sally, Tim; she is a force of nature, and you should admire her from afar, like a tornado. Don't get in her way or she'll chew you up. She confessed that she was a little bored and looking for something to fill her life. Go back into politics, Sal; Weatherfield needs you as its mayor. Especially if you produce another
incredible campaign video.
Fergus certainly seems to appreciate Sally's brilliance and is firmly on board with her plans. Do you think Cherylee Houston is ok with her real-life boyfriend getting a bigger part in the show than her? Fergus was brought in as support for Izzy during her shielding storyline, and while she hasn't appeared since August, Fergus practically has his own tankard in the Rovers. I'm imagining the scripts dropping through the letterbox and Toby Hadoke snaffling them from under her disappointed nose.
Welcome the twelfth man. There was a time when Wethy County was simply a place for the men of the Street to disappear on a Saturday afternoon while the women did the important soap opera jobs of gossiping and sniping. Not any more; now the football team is in the show almost as much as Roy's Rolls. It was bad enough when it was just James playing there, running off to training with his rucksack in every other episode, but now Corey's there as well. Suddenly we're getting press conferences and discussions about matches and if I wanted this sort of nonsense I'd watch Sky Sports.
It doesn't help that the writing staff are irritatingly vague about Wethy County's actual status. Kevin mentioned the other day that they were in the cup against Shrewsbury, who are in League One, what old people like me still call the Third Division. You'd think that would make them pretty low rent, but they're talked about like they're Premier League, with coaching teams and press officers and so on. I liked them a lot more when they were vaguely discussed as a load of hopeless losers, rather than this sub-Manchester United team that everyone is fascinated by. (And why are they playing league matches on a weekday afternoon?)
Pay attention at the back. Mention of James means we have to talk about his racism storyline, not because it was interesting or anything, but because this blog has a duty to educate you as well as entertain. This is SERIOUS ISSUE and it needs to be covered with dignity. James had a lot to say about racism this week - a lot - but rather than give him some interesting dialogue or character moments, the writers simply copied and pasted Wikipedia pages into the script. When he helpfully informed us that "25% of players in the Premier League are black" I half expected him to add "citation needed". Even then, the programme fudged it, with white character Steve helpfully educating black characters Michael and James about the history of black players in English football. Think about the optics of that for a moment, producers.
James did at least get an apology from the police force for being racially targeted, and then PC Racist came round and apologised to him in person and said he'd learned an important lesson. Hurray! Racism is cured! Now make the Baileys into interesting characters who aren't simply educational tools. Right now my heart sinks every time they appear onscreen as I know I'm about to get some sort of heavy-handed lesson.
Eat out to help out. "Happy birthday darling! As a special treat, I've booked us an expensive meal in that lovely bistro you like. Let's go and enjoy a three course meal with wine and coffee. Hang on... is that a curry van? Never mind the slap up meal, let's stand in the street and pick at a jalfrezi with plastic forks. Enjoy!"
The person I feel most sorry for is Naveed. He's been loitering in the back of shot for months, vaguely wafting coriander around, and the only time he ever gets any dialogue he's immediately fired. Hope you enjoyed your one and only pay packet as a cast member, mate. Zeedan and Debbie seem to have resolved their battle, which is a shame, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I was hoping it would climax in a massive food fight in the middle of the Street. Secondly, it means they now have room to introduce a storyline where the Dad out of
The Kumars forces Zee to launder his dodgy money through Speed Daal. I suppose it has been about eight minutes since we last had a plotline involving gangsters - we're due another one.
Let's take a moment to appreciate this truly astonishing ensemble from the Gazette's food critic. Beret? Pointy glasses? Animal print? All at once? Amazing.
Get yourself an Aadi. While Asha careens headlong into another no doubt disastrous relationship - she's got a crush on a girl in college who will probably turn out to be a Nazi or something - and Dev looks for someone who'll love him as much as he loves himself, let's take a moment to applaud Aadi. He's been in a relationship with Summer for only a couple of months but in that time he's proved himself to be mature, level-headed and supportive. Even when he found out she was a plagiariser, he caringly brought it up with her in a calm manner, rather than, say, calling her a big old cheat. He's even willing to go on twilight litter picks with her and Billy and a load of over-enthusiastic Christians. Truly, he is a saint.
Let's hope Summer appreciate him as much. At the moment she's dividing her spare time up between Max and Daniel, and in soap land, the minute you put a young girl in a room with a man shenanigans ensue. The question is, will she go for mature but dull Daniel (he actually makes his dad look vibrant and thrilling) or young but psychotic Max (before you say anything, he's only eighteen months younger than Aadi; maybe she has a thing for jailbait). I hope neither, and she shares a tender, romantic relationship with Aadi, promising to remain true to him even though they're parted while she's at Oxford, then banging the first bloke she meets at Fresher's Fair.
If you know where I can get that beer that tastes of biscuits, please let me know on Twitter @merseytart. Or rather, don't, because I drink too much beer already.
