Farewell to the dashing white Sergeant

HE WAS not the Lord of the Dance, but its beloved jester. Week after week the public switched on in their millions to watch John Sergeant tangle up the tango and, well, not so much pass the paso doble as fail on the polished dance floor.

If dancing is poetry in motion, then the former ITN political editor was lumpen prose. Watching him drag Kristina Rihanoff, his Russian partner, across the floor made coalmen wince with recognition. If Strictly Come Dancing usually creates stars, Sergeant was its first black hole, a talent so tiny but with a presence so powerful that he sucked in votes and appeared unstoppable.

Yesterday, however, Sergeant, fearing his continued presence was destroying the show, decided to self-destruct, pulling out of a competition he had an increasing chance of winning, despite resembling, as one critic said, "a dancing pig in Cuban heels".

Yet he was the nation's pirouetting porker, a figure increasingly beloved for his shambling moves and beatific grin. He was Eddie the Eagle in sequins.

As markets crashed, Sergeant soared, buoyed by the public's well wishes, before being brought down to earth by jealous judges and growing ill-will. Despite being voted the "worst dancer" on four occasions and, at one point, racking up just 12 points out of 40, the lowest score in the show's five series, he was persistently saved from the final dance-off, which each week results in one couple's swift exit, by the public's vote.

The imbalance between Sergeant's lack of ability and his persistent achievement to hang in while far better dancers fell by the wayside, riled the judges who were anxious to pass sentence. Len Goodman, the head judge, said his success "made a nonsense of the show". Sergeant responded: "It is funny how judges both in real life and on Strictly Come Dancing lose touch with the views of ordinary people."

The views of ordinary people were quite clear: John Sergeant, 64, portly – despite allegedly losing two stone during the past three months of training – was an urban hero, an everyman who, as one blogger explained, "represented every dad at a wedding".

Dance competitions have, historically, proved popular during an economic crisis. During the Great Depression in America, thousands would turn out to watch contestants dance till they dropped in "marathon dance competitions" that lasted as long as 24 hours.

Today's entertainment is a little more humane, but still more than nine million viewers switched on each week to forget rising unemployment and hang their hopes on a chubby failure capable of turning the cha-cha into, as one judge said, the "ha-ha".

When the show began, the former political correspondent provided a little comic relief as he manhandled the sumptuous Ms Rihanoff, a Russian champion, like a clumsy butcher with an ungainly side of beef.

The judges, to begin with, were patronisingly positive, describing his waltz as "warm" and "understated". Yet, while his fellow contestants sweated over their moves in the hope of surviving one more week, Sergeant, a correspondent in Vietnam, the Middle East and Northern Ireland, preferred to relax and read the broadsheets.

On a number of occasions, Ms Rihanoff issued posts on her blog, denying stories in the tabloids that she had had shouting matches with her partner.

"I never have, nor would I ever, 'roundly curse' John or any of my students – in English or in Russian! To say that I did during our cha-cha training last week is ridiculous and hurtful."

The contestant's ungainly swagger and relaxed attitude to training was quickly picked up and celebrated by the public. While Ms Rihanoff began selling "Team Sergeant" T-shirts on her website, thousands were signing up to more than 20 Facebook groups.

Over the next few weeks he became such a draw that William Hill was offering "Sergeant Specials": odds of 6-1 that he scores no points; 3-1 that he scores the lowest points tally in the history of the programme; 10-1 that he made it into the final and 33-1 that he wins.

The tension came to a head on Sunday night when Cherie Lunghi, the actress, and Lisa Snowdon, a former model, found themselves facing a dance-off, despite both being favourites to win in terms of their ability.

Goodman said: "This is terrible… neither should be going."

When Lunghi was eventually voted off, her partner made a public plea against those persistently voting to keep Sergeant in: "This is supposed to be a dance contest. Please, please, people at home, vote for the dancing."

In an ironic twist, one Sergeant might have managed, the actual "twist" being slightly beyond his ability, the dance he and his partner were due to rehearse was to be called "Murder on the Dance Floor", a sequence that was to end with him "machine-gunning the critics". He would not have been convicted.

Yet last night Sergeant insisted he had not been bullied out of the show, but said instead that the time to leave a party was before the fighting began.

Yet, with the public on his side, it was a fight he may well have won.

Sergeant sets out Strictly retreat

JOHN Sergeant yesterday said fear of victory after a "bloody battle" on the dance floor was the reason he dramatically quit Strictly Come Dancing.

The former political editor, whose clod-hopping style has made him an unlikely national hero, also declared that the joke had worn thin.

However, Sergeant, 64, brushed off suggestions he had been bullied to quit and said there was a real danger he might have won.

Speaking at a press conference at BBC Television Centre in London, he said: "That is a frightening thought, it is a terrifying thought. I didn't want that to happen because it would have been a very bittersweet victory."

Falling back on his years of election reporting, he added: "The problem was there was no viable Stop Sergeant candidate."

Sergeant, who has come under fire from judges for his clumsy footwork, said: "I decide to choose my own battles. What I did not want was a bloody battle." But he added he was very grateful to everyone who had voted for him over the past few weeks.

Viewers' fondness for Sergeant has kept him in the popular BBC1 show – despite him coming bottom of the judge's scoring table three weeks in a row with dance partner Kristina Rihanoff.

The BBC's website has been flooded with comments from "strictly incensed" viewers angry at his departure. Jay Hunt, the BBC1 controller, said anyone who had voted for Sergeant and wanted reimbursed would be.

Lord Mandelson, the Business Secretary, has added his voice of support. He said: "John Sergeant should not bow out. He has become the people's John Travolta and he should be a fighter, not a quitter."

Sergeant will end his dancing career with a last waltz on Saturday. After that, he said: "I shall return to my rather quiet life."

In front of a glitzy backdrop yesterday, Sergeant defended his move to quit the show. He said: "The reasons for leaving – well, it is like when do you leave a party? You leave before the fighting starts and I think that is what has happened on this occasion.

"We had fun dancing and dancing is a wonderfully enjoyable thing, but if the joke wears thin, if people begin to take things very seriously and if people are getting so wound up that it is very difficult to carry on the joke, then it is time to go."

Sergeant had planned a routine to Sophie Ellis-Bextor's Murder On The Dance Floor.

"It ended up with me firing imaginary bullets at the judges," he said. "It would have amused me, and maybe lots of people in the audience, but some people would say: 'Here we go – not more John Sergeant ruining a marvellous dancing competition.'

"The idea that we would carry on doing this week after week – irritating and annoying people and causing controversy – that is not what I'm about and that is not why I wanted to join the show."

From 'cute and cuddly' to 'stinking' – how John's ballroom blitz went sour

DURING his nine weeks on Strictly Come Dancing, John Sergeant has perfected the technique of dragging his partner around the ballroom.

But it started rather well when in week one his waltz was popular with the judges, despite him being the top tip to leave the show first.

Judge Bruno Tonioli described Sergeant as "so cute and cuddly".

"It was like watching Winnie the Pooh," he added.

"I found it a very endearing performance."

Sergeant's next performance, of the tango to Tony Bennett's Boulevard of Broken Dreams, was also popular, giving him scores above other dancers such as Jodie Kidd, who would have been expected to flourish.

Such dances earned him praise for his "warm" and "understated" performances.

But the kind words about his dancing did not last long.

In one of his most cringe-worthy – yet entertaining – performances, Sergeant pulled a seemingly unconscious Kristina Rihanoff along the floor while puffing out his chest like a proud peacock.

During the same performance of the paso doble, the political journalist marched along much to the enjoyment of viewers – but sadly not the judges.

Sergeant's unique version of the cha-cha-cha to Twist and Shout saw another classic performance – but his lowest score – just 12 out of 40.

Head judge Len Goodman said: "That was more ha ha ha than cha-cha-cha. If somebody deserving gets knocked out because the public like you, it makes a nonsense of the show."

Tonioli begged him to quit, saying: "Your charming personality is undeniable, but you must admit your dancing stinks."

The dragging technique reappeared again in his last performance, of the American smooth. During the dance, Sergeant trotted backwards, dragging Miss Rihanoff along the floor as she did the splits.

Judge Arlene Phillips said she found his performance "endearing".

But she added: "You did get that Hollywood feel, although it was more Mickey Rooney than Fred Astaire."