For almost 30 years it’s been a part of our lives. Since the 2nd November, 1982, it has continued to unite children, students, parents and pensioners in their quest for the nine letter word. Love it or hate it, there has always been something strangely comforting about its inclusion on the weekly TV schedule. But, with the recent announcement of Jeff Stelling’s retirement from the flagship Channel 4 game show, the conundrum once again surfaces: is time up for Countdown?
You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who hasn’t spent many an afternoon playing along to Countdown. One of my earliest TV memories is that of Richard Whitely setting his extremely oversized (and yes, that is two nine letter words in a row, well spotted) clock off on its 30-second journey. You see, my dad worked nights, which meant he was always awake and watching TV whenever I got home from school. So whilst all my friends got the luxury of CBBC’s Goosebumps or CITV’s Zap, I had to make do with Countdown.
But to be honest, I didn’t really mind. I used to enjoy the thrill of potentially beating my dad to a larger word, a feat I almost never achieved. Although I did once at the age of eight get the conundrum within a millisecond of the letters being revealed. The fact that I did this in front of all of my family, grandparents included, meant I’d pretty much guaranteed the status of “child prodigy”. It didn’t matter how badly I was doing at school, I got the Countdown Conundrum really quickly; that was sure to guarantee me a successful future. I should add that I never repeated the feat, it was a complete fluke.
It’s difficult to imagine Countdown being commissioned today. It seems that in this modern age game shows need to have some bizarre element, be it Pointless’s search for the least popular answer, or Deal or No Deal’s Noel Edmonds. One of the reasons for Countdown’s success though is surely its simplicity. You try to make the biggest word you can, or you try to get to the big number using all the smaller numbers. Even if you’re rubbish at it you can at least grasp what’s going on. And that’s the way it has been ever since it began, unlike pretty much every other game show out there that feels the need to mess around with their concept as soon as the viewing figures take the slightest dip.
The fact it has remained exactly the same game is why we love it so much. Like a family pet, or that neighbour who’s lived up the road all of your life: you change, grow up, move out, but they remain exactly the same. And there’s something strangely reassuring about it. Even if Aliens invaded and took over the world, you’d expect that somewhere in a small studio in Leeds there’ll still be a dull looking northern chap asking for “two from the top and four small ones.”
The only thing that has changed about Countdown in its three decades on the box is its presenters, and those changes were implemented out of necessity rather than choice. The sudden death of original host Richard Whitely in 2005 sent producers of the show into a frenzy. For a while many thought that Whiteley’s passing would be the end for Countdown. That was until Des Lynam stepped up to the challenge of filling the great man’s shoes. Unfortunately, Lynam never really felt at home at the helm of the afternoon favourite, and announced he was to leave after little over a year fronting the programme. Countdown replaced one great Des with another: the sun-tanned god that is Des O’Connor. He too failed to settle in and it looked as though the presenter role was a poison chalice and no one would be able to fill Whiteley’s shoes. That is of course, until the Stelling Revolution.
With Jeff Stelling came a breath of life into Countdown, something fans fear will leave with Stelling when he finishes his tenure at the end of this year. But as great as I think Jeff’s been, I don’t think his departure is anything to worry about.
Countdown is bigger than its presenters, bigger than its contestants, bigger than a nine letter word. Countdown, like the Royal Family, a cup of tea, or hating Piers Morgan, is one of those things that make Britain, well, British. There isn’t any logic behind its success; you may not even feel any sense of enjoyment whilst watching it. But if it was to leave our screens for good, it would leave a void much larger than a 45 minute slot in Channel 4’s weekday schedule, it would take away a part of our identity. Countdown isn’t just Channel 4’s flagship game show, it’s Britain’s flagship game show.