Never really been a fan of Eurovision, but this evening with a litre of Brennavin tucked under the arm and congenial (read increasingly drunk) company, it made a kind of sense. Perhaps it was some form of pining in advance. While expecting a firm spanking from the rest of Europe (and Israel?) (and Australia??) we were simply “middling”; not really that good, certainly not worth getting all het up about by the others, just sort of there…Perhaps this is where it all started to go sour for Nigel F and his sad little band of sad little englanders, that we have fallen so far from the dizzy heights of Brotherhood of Man (Wakefield’s ahem…’pride’) and Buck’s Fizz. I suppose at least they didn’t have to wade through so many lies when the time came for making their minds up.

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