Helen Skelton, action (figure) hero

In the regular polls held to decide who is the greatest Briton, Winston Churchill wins so consistently that a better poll might be 'second greatest Briton'. However, maybe its time he started looking over his shoulder, because the man has competition.

Helen Skelton is a Blue Peter presenter ('Blue Peter' rather than 'children's television' presenter because 'children's television presenter' conjures an image of a twat with highlights and primary coloured dungarees being condescending to kiddies while thinking that while their HND in drama and applied mime from their local 'University', formally a poly, formally a junior school, got them this job, they should, according to the career plan they drew up aged nineteen that's currently stuffed at the back of their sock draw, be playing the lead in 'The Cherry Orchard' at the Old Vic, rather than pretending to be a cloud and getting paid less than the other presenter - a puppet. A Blue Peter presenter could, one feels, if required, easily give an update from the front line of a war zone, they have that sort of calm authority.) who has not only paddled the length of the Amazon in a kayak, but recently skied, kite-boarded and cycled her way to the South Pole.

The girl has, to put it plainly, gumption. On television she comes across as exactly the sort of no-nonsense northern lass that forms the backbone of many a community. If it was all going tits up at lambing time, she's the sort of person one could expect to keep heads cool and soapy water warm. She's also very, very attractive. During her Amazon adventure, she had to get an anti nausea shot in her bum. The resulting footage and strain of simultaneously processing a fear of needles and the sight of a pretty bottom gave many a dad a funny turn.

Certainly, if these achievements are not worthy of the accolade of greatest Briton (something that in this jubilee year may just go to the most famous corgi-botherer in the land) then surely it's deserving of that other most public form of recognition - the action figure.

Action figures are great. For somebody who grew up sending his action man on dangerous missions behind the sofa, the joy of an action figure is in playing with them. They is why I have never understood the practice of issuing pop star action figures or dolls. I mean, just how much fun could you have with a collection of figures only slightly more plastic than their real life counterparts? The only purpose they could serve, I imagine, is to do reconstructions of acrimonious break-ups and backstage spats.

If you are a pop star, and they suggest making an action figure of you, decline. One day, ten or twenty years from now, you will be sitting on a chat show sofa, plugging your memoir, pasta sauce range or release from rehab/prison and the host will reach behind him to pull out a six inch tall reproduction of you in your prime. This is unsettling for two reasons, the first is that it's bad for your confidence to compare the dynamic miniature you to the middle aged balding fatty you currently resident on the sofa, the second that it's unsettling to think that somewhere out there is somebody who has held on to an action figure of you, who is not your mum.

Then the host simulates sex between your doll and a plastic gorilla and you're back on the crack.

Helen Skelton is the exception. She would make an fantastic action figure. First of all, think of the outfits and the accessories! Helen in the Amazon, Helen in the Antarctic, Helen in space! And you could have the studio, complete with pets and cameras, you could recreate your own episode of Blue Peter. Who of us have not, at some time or another, dreamed of stepping into the stilettos of Biddy Baxter and manipulating the young minds of the nation - but for good!

Best of all, Blue Peter being the show it is, they would no doubt show you how to make your own playsets rather than shelling out for them in the shops.