Colson Smith reveals new job following Craig’s brutal Coronation Street death

From Cobbles to Country Life: Colson Smith’s Bold Career Shift After Coronation Street Exit 🚔🐑🎙️

Colson Smith, best known for his portrayal of PC Craig Tinker on Coronation Street, has officially closed one of the most memorable chapters of his life. After 14 years of playing the kind-hearted and often underestimated Weatherfield police officer, the actor is stepping into an entirely new world—one that couldn’t be more different from the streets of Manchester.

Following his character’s shocking and brutal exit from the long-running soap, Colson is now embracing fresh opportunities that are both surprising and inspiring.

A Dramatic Farewell

Craig Tinker’s storyline ended in a brutal fashion, leaving fans reeling. His attempt to confront the increasingly dangerous Mick Michaelis ended in tragedy, as the beloved officer was left for dead following a vicious baseball bat assault. While many fans initially feared the worst, actor Colson Smith took to social media shortly after the episode aired with a cryptic message: “He’s just sleeping.” It was both a cheeky nod to the ambiguity of soap deaths and an unofficial farewell to a character that had grown up alongside the audience.

The end of Craig’s journey also marked the beginning of Colson’s exciting next chapter—a chapter that moves away from television sets and into new, very unexpected territory.

From Scripted Drama to Real-Life Radio

In a surprising but fitting twist, Colson Smith has landed a brand-new role in broadcasting. He will be joining BBC Radio Leeds as a presenter this summer, where he hopes to bring his authentic charm and humor to the airwaves.

Speaking about his move into radio, Colson shared how thrilled he is to try something new that allows him to still connect with people, albeit in a different format. After spending most of his adult life on-screen, this shift provides him the chance to explore conversations, storytelling, and connection in a more intimate, unscripted way.

“I’ve always loved talking to people and sharing stories,” he said. “Radio gives me the perfect space to do that—without someone handing me a script!”

Getting His Hands Dirty—Literally

As if radio wasn’t a surprising enough transition, Colson has also taken on an unexpected side hustle: lambing on a farm. That’s right—the former soap star is now helping deliver lambs in the countryside.

Fans were stunned (and delighted) when Colson posted photos of himself in wellies and farm gear, wrist-deep in rural life. It turns out, his sister is a vet, and she brought him along for lambing season, where he found himself knee-deep in a completely different kind of drama.

“It’s mad,” he laughed in an interview. “You go from chasing down bad guys on screen to literally catching newborn lambs. But honestly, it’s been one of the most grounding and rewarding experiences I’ve had.”

The hands-on work has not only given him a new appreciation for animal care and rural living but also served as a much-needed mental reset after years in the high-pressure world of television.

Back to the Audition Room

While Colson’s focus is currently on farming and radio, he hasn’t abandoned acting altogether. He recently auditioned for a role in an upcoming season of the BBC crime dramedy Ludwig. The part? A young, slightly bumbling police officer—not unlike Craig Tinker.

Despite the similarities, Colson admitted that returning to the familiar felt odd. “I walked into the audition room and thought, ‘Hang on—I’ve done this before,’” he joked. “But it was a nice reminder that I still love acting. I just want to explore different kinds of roles now.”

Whether or not he lands the part, the experience reignited his passion for performance and reminded him that stepping out of one door doesn’t mean others won’t open.

Saying Goodbye to Craig—and Hello to Himself

Colson Smith’s departure from Coronation Street marks more than just a professional shift. It represents a personal transformation as well. He’s grown up in front of the cameras, evolving from a shy teenager into a confident and multi-talented adult.

In recent years, he’s also been open about his fitness journey and mental health, becoming an advocate for self-growth and resilience. Now, with his feet planted both on the farm and in the studio, Colson is embracing the freedom to redefine himself outside of Craig Tinker’s shadow.

“I’ll always love that character,” he said. “He gave me so much. But there comes a time when you need to live a little, take risks, and find out who you are without the uniform.”

What’s Next?

So, what does the future hold for Colson Smith?

With a radio debut on the horizon, a potential role in a new TV series, and perhaps a few more sheep to deliver, the possibilities are wide open. Fans will no doubt be watching closely—and listening—to see where his journey takes him next.

One thing’s for sure: whether he’s behind a microphone or mucking out a barn, Colson Smith is proving that life after the cobbles can be just as exciting—and maybe even a little more real.

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The atmosphere in Weatherfield shifted from uneasy to outright frantic in a matter of hours. It started quietly enough—just another ordinary day on the cobbles—until word spread that Dorin Pop had gone missing. At first, no one knew quite what to make of it. People assumed he had simply taken off without telling anyone, perhaps to clear his head after recent tensions. But there was something in the air, a gnawing tension that made this disappearance feel different. Meanwhile, Abi Webster was in her own spiral of panic, not over Dorin’s absence at first, but because of a troubling photograph she’d received showing Hope Dobbs in a place she shouldn’t have been. The image was grainy, unsettling, and entirely out of context, but it was enough to make Abi’s heart race. She tried to convince herself the photo and Dorin’s vanishing were unrelated, yet the timing was far too close to ignore. As she rushed from one end of the street to the other, asking anyone if they had seen Dorin, her worry began to spill into something more desperate. Other residents joined the search, combing familiar alleys, checking the local café, the bus stop, and every corner of the Rovers Return. The questions flew faster than the answers could come: Had Dorin argued with someone? Had he left willingly? Was he in danger? Hours ticked by, and the mood grew heavier with each passing minute. Even those who didn’t know Dorin well could feel that something wasn’t right. Then, in the middle of the chaos, someone’s phone rang—a sharp, piercing sound that cut through the low hum of murmured speculation. The street fell quiet as the call’s recipient, face pale, listened intently. Their eyes widened, and for a moment, they seemed unable to speak. Finally, the words came out, slow and heavy: “It’s the police. They’ve found a body… it’s Dorin.” Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd. Abi felt the blood drain from her face, her mind struggling to reconcile the news with the man she’d spoken to just days before. The world around her seemed to narrow into a blur of voices and movement, but all she could hear was the echo of those five words: They’ve found a body—it’s Dorin. Almost immediately, shock turned into questions. Where had they found him? What had happened to him? Was it an accident, or something far darker? The police gave few details over the phone, promising to release more information once they could. That lack of clarity only fueled speculation, and soon theories began to take root in the fertile ground of fear and suspicion. Some whispered that Dorin had been involved in shady dealings and that his past had finally caught up to him. Others thought the photograph of Hope Dobbs was somehow connected, a clue pointing toward a larger, more dangerous secret that Dorin had stumbled into. Abi clung to the possibility that the two events were linked—not because she wanted to believe Dorin’s death had anything to do with Hope, but because she needed a thread to follow, a reason to make sense of it all. As the evening descended, the street was cloaked in a mix of grief and unease. People gathered in small clusters, speaking in hushed tones, as if afraid the darkness might overhear. The Rovers, usually full of warmth and laughter, felt subdued, with quiet condolences replacing its usual chatter. In the corner, Abi sat hunched over, her mind replaying every interaction she’d had with Dorin recently, searching for signs she might have missed. The photograph of Hope still burned in her thoughts—its details strange and unsettling—but now it felt less like a separate problem and more like a missing puzzle piece in a tragedy that was only just beginning to unfold. The police presence grew as night fell, officers moving with brisk determination, their expressions unreadable. They were careful with their words, offering comfort without committing to any explanations. But Abi could tell from their guarded tone that this wasn’t going to be written off as a simple accident. The circumstances were too suspicious, the timing too precise. And while the official investigation had only just begun, the people of Weatherfield were already trying Dorin’s case in their minds, each coming up with their own version of the truth. For Abi, the grief was tangled with guilt. She kept wondering if she could have done something—anything—to change the outcome. Maybe if she’d reached Dorin sooner, asked the right questions, or connected the dots between his strange behavior and the disturbing photograph, things would be different. But now, the questions she wanted to ask could never be answered by the one person who might have known the truth. Somewhere, hidden beneath layers of grief, was the gnawing certainty that Dorin’s death was only the beginning. The photograph, the disappearance, and the grim discovery were threads in a much larger web, one that might ensnare more people before it was finished. And as Abi sat in the dim light of the Rovers, her tea going cold in front of her, she made a silent promise to herself: whatever the truth was, however dangerous it might be, she would find it. Because Dorin deserved justice, and the people still living in Weatherfield deserved to know what shadow had crept into their lives. The night ended without resolution, but the undercurrent of fear was palpable. Somewhere out there, the truth about Dorin Pop’s death—and its connection to that haunting photo of Hope Dobbs—was waiting to be uncovered. And until it was, no one on the cobbles would truly feel safe again.

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