Don't peak too soon

Well, he didn't disappoint last night, did he? Baggs. Baggsy. The Brand. He's kept his head down for the past few weeks but last night he leapt up and ran across no man's land naked and unarmed. A one-man charge that revealed everything in his arsenal.

He was all we could have wanted. Rude, bullish, incompetent, insulting, ridiculous, selfish and . . . masculine. Oh so very masculine. In fact, I could almost feel his masculinity from my sofa – as if he'd employed some Uri Geller-like trick. I half expected spoons to start bending in the drawer. But those lucky ladies on his team, eh? Quite a priviledge to work with an adrenaline junkie, brimming with testosterone and – keep up you oldies – capable of keeping everything in his head. No need for pens and paper in Baggsland, just a supersized brain and well honed gut-instinct. Brilliant. And the suggestion that anyone in their thirties is virtually ready for the old folk's home . . .

The only disappointment was that his team won. I would've loved to have seen the stand off between Baggsy and Lord Sir Sugar Alan Lord. Sir. But then, it would peaking too soon wouldn't it? It would be like X-Factor without the spectre of Katie Waissel (still not sure why the public dislikes her so) or Spangly Come Dancing without the right-wing-tory-turned-national-teddy-bear.

After that kind of entertainment, it'll be a shame to see him go.