Passing the remote: what I've learned in 14 years as the Guardian's TV reviewer

He loved The Thick of It, hated The Apprentice, and blew hot and cold about Robin Hood. But what’s the biggest takeaway from thousands of hours spent watching telly?

“I could be wrong – and being new to this game I probably am – but there appears to be some quite good television around at the moment,” began the Guardian TV review of 2 February 2004. The writer went on to mention a few programmes, some of which still seem quite good, others perhaps less so. Shameless, The Alan Clark Diaries, Little Britain, Six Feet Under, I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out Of Here! (Hey, it was still relatively new; it was the series with Katie Price and Peter Andre. And OK, maybe the writer – I – was wrong.) The review itself was about a programme in which Alistair McGowan went wild with rhinos and a South Bank Show about television, both forgettable.

That was my first review (apart from a brief stint a few years before, but let’s not complicate this). Since when I have written about bonnets and ballroom dancing, Big Brother, baking and a whole bunch of stuff that doesn’t start with B. Drama, documentaries, comedies, soaps, gameshows, Nordic noir, Black Mirror, Red Riding, Green Wing, Blue Planet. I have written about people who marry horses, and eat their lovers, and about Rolf Harris painting the Queen. I have covered the coverage of elections and World Cups, the Olympics and presidential inaugurations, and I have reviewed other people reviewing TV.