www.thetimes.co.uk/article/swings-tantrums-bananas-just-another-election-ljh8nq93kf3behind a paywall I know but you can read limited articles for free and this confirms what I read about the 2005 exit poll and earlier results showing a Lab majority of 30,then 52 and 66
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Swings, tantrums, bananas just another election
Nick Robinson’s Political Notebook
Saturday May 07 2005, 1.00am, The Times
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THURSDAY 8.32pm
“Have you heard?” Jonathan Dimbleby asks, as I stride jauntily into the ITV News election office. “We are in for an interesting night.” There is a buzz in the air. The early results of our exit poll suggest a Labour majority of just 30; well below the point that would trigger calls for Tony Blair to go. It’s a result that would be good for trade. Yet it is also terrifying. Memories of 1992 flood back, when Neil Kinnock cracked open the champagne on the basis of leaked exit poll results. Memories, too, of those who called it for John Kerry in November last year.
8.48pm No time to dwell on that worry as another takes over. As we rehearse the top of our results programme, Jonathan’s high-tech wireless earpiece tumbles from his ear and finds the only crack in the base of the set. It sits there defiantly as if to say: “What can go wrong, will go wrong.”
9.28pm I’ve forgotten to eat and with the next nine hours to be spent in studio, this is something of a problem. The sandwiches are curling, the quiche rubbery (isn’t it always?). It’s a banana-only diet from now on.
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9.40pm The exit poll’s predicted majority is creeping up as new data comes in. It’s 52 now (by 10pm it’s reached 66). Our polling guru tells us, not at all reassuringly, that it could easily turn out to be 90. “Why don’t we act out a range of possible outcomes?” I nervously suggest. The team looks at me with contempt. They’ve spent more than a year debating how to handle this moment. They don’t plan to bottle out now. “I’m glad it’s not a cliffhanger,” someone who was involved in the 1992 debacle remarks unhelpfully. We liberally sprinkle caveats in our scripts.
10.50pm The tension begins to show. Unable to find the information I need to analyse the trickle of results, I throw a tantrum. The last time anyone spoke this way was my wife on the maternity ward when the anaesthetist asked her whether she was really sure that the epidural wasn’t working. Roy Hattersley feels it necessary to gently remind me that I’m not actually running for election. Note to self: apologise to all, then apologise again.
FRIDAY 2.36am Our correspondent reveals that George Galloway is set to pull off a coup against the party that expelled him. Lord Hattersley calls it “a tragedy”. Alex Salmond responds: “No, Roy, the Iraq war was the tragedy.” Ouch.
6.00am Off air at last. Was anyone watching? I have three hours before I have to be back in the studio. I race to the Holiday Inn for a kip.
7.50am Where am I? What’s that screaming noise? Wherever I am it appears to be on fire. Hauling on my trousers I head for the door — unsure quite where it leads. Adrenalin pumping I realise in one moment that I am now completely awake and in the next that the fire alarm has just gone off. False alarm.
9.59am One curling, suspiciously warm ham and cheese croissant later and I’m back on air. Frank Dobson declares that the sooner Gordon Brown is Prime Minister the better. Leadership race No 1 is under way. Later another Labour MP tells me off air (and rather too graphically for my tastes) that Blair’s days are numbered because the “arse-lickers” in the party are “looking for a new arse to lick ”.
11.30am I am standing outside the gates of Downing Street pleading to be let in to see the PM’s victory speech. I’m told we are in “a lockdown”; no one can move in or out. A desperate colleague suggests preposterously that the PM will be expecting me to be there to ask a question. “Nice try,” says a good-natured PC, “but we’ re not letting anyone in.” He points over our shoulder to prove his point. A beaming John Prescott waves at us.
I get out my pocket radio and listen to history being made 200 yards away.
12.30pm “But I’ve run out of burble,” an exasperated Andy Marr tells the BBC’s everhungry news channel. So have I, but burble I do about historic third terms and Blair & Brown. “Have you heard?” a producer’s voice screams in my ear. “Heard what?” I ask wearily. “Howard’s resigning!” My phone lights up with Tories who wouldn’t want to be quoted, you understand, but if I’d like to say that they might be considered a good Tory leader that would be very nice.
5.30pm Call home to remind my children that they have a father. “Daddy,” four-year-old Harry says, “I’m wearing my tiger suit.” “Haven’t you heard?” I begin to ask, forgetting myself. “Oh sorry — it was just that Daddy had a busy day at the office . . .”
