A posh dinner, with sour grapes for dessert…

So, there I was, enjoying a lovely meal courtesy of my pal Rob McGlennon, the missus in a posh frock and me in the tux, having a lovely chat with Rob’s other guests and so far, I haven’t talked anyone to sleep.

And then, all of a sudden, there’s a load of noise and flashing lights and a lot of shouting and people diving for cover and….ah, not a fire, no panic….the 2022 G Awards presentation ceremony has begun.

Perhaps I should not have gone this year. Because for the first time in many years I had submitted an entry, this time for the Best New Product category – for the Gerda doors that I now distribute in the UK – and we had not been selected even as a finalist. And that left me feeling a tad cheated, especially after the finalists and then the winner, were announced.

Just like every other rejected entrant – and there could be hundreds of us – I felt that my product was ten times better than any of those chosen as finalists. And I accept any accusations of hypocrisy, having slated someone a few years back for obsessively bitching about the unfairness of it all when they didn’t win. Now I believe they had a point. And that doesn’t improve my mood either.

Do the sponsors get the lion’s share of the spoils? It certainly seems so but having said that, I understand that there is a relatively limited number of companies that are prepared to put their hands in their pockets to have their monikers flashing up on the screen and on the table settings.

And that many of those are also the ones that have the resources to put entries together and sometimes they may coincide. But whatever the truth of it, the impression is that winners are often sponsors.

But my main gripe is that, having entered what I still believe should have at least been selected as a finalist, I have absolutely no idea why we were rejected: if I am deluded about my products then please don’t spare my blushes – tell me so and why.

And I can guarantee that every other failed entrant, let alone finalist, will be thinking the same as me. Every entrant believed that their product or service or what-have-you was the best in its category, or they would not have entered in the first place. After my entry was submitted, I received no further communication whatsoever. Does anyone, including the winners?

At this point I can feel the heat coming off the brow of G Awards’ organiser, Tony Higgin, so let me put things into context: As an industry we NEED a decent awards event. As a previous winner of a G Award, although the category was not one of the most coveted (Apprentice of the Year) there was immense pride in slapping the lad we were supporting on the back and going up to get the gong. I cannot deny the joy that everyone called to stage on the night enjoys.

But it could be so much more.

Let’s get something straight: despite one or two pretenders (the main requirement for winning at the National Fenestration Awards seems to be having an address somewhere in the North of England) the G Awards remains the most relevant and, as far as I can tell, enjoyed of these events.

But I believe that the communications must be improved for entrants at every stage and especially when entrants are deselected, that they – we – are told why. What influenced the judges to believe, even anonymously, that an entry was not worthy of progressing further…we still might not agree but at least we will have an insight into the inner workings of the process. And actually, after we had calmed down, we might just take a look at ourselves and the thing that we entered. And improve it.

Tony: you hold in your hands the hearts and souls of all of us that enter; but for me an otherwise delightful dinner slipped into sour grapes for dessert. However, as flawed as I and others believe it to be, we need the G Awards, or at least something like it.

Either way, I guess it might be a mistake for me to enter again any time soon …