"Hello Helsinki," was the cry from the stage of the 13,665 capacity Hartwell Arena last May, when the Eurovision Song Contest stopped off in the Finnish Capital thanks to the previous year's success of Lordi's death metal anthem, Rock And Roll Hallelujah. Not your typical Eurovision entry perhaps, but then, is there such a thing?
Earlier, at the Grand Marina Hotel, temporary home to the British delegation, from where I had to collect my tickets for the final (a snip at just £133 a pop), the hubbub by the lifts heralded the arrival of Terry Wogan. And the rumour circulating wa
s that this might be the last time Sir Tel would narrate the event from his private box, the obligatory bottle of Baileys never far from reach.
This year, whispers from Belgrade, where the 53rd Eurovision Song Contest will be staged tomorrow, again suggest that it might be Wogan's swansong at the annual kitchfest, and not just because of our inability to win the competition.
Just last week, Bjorn Erichsen, the Danish director of Eurovision TV, the producers of the competition which is watched by 300 million people worldwide, complained that Wogan's wry observations made Eurovision look "ridiculous".
Tel's quips, of course, are the highlight of the night for most UK viewers because, let's be honest, the days of Katie Boyle's plummy introductions are as outdated as the Bucks Fizz strip.
Meanwhile, back to Helsinki, where a quick drink in the delegates bar afforded a brief opportunity to get up close and personal with some of the 2007 contestants who were nervously quaffing a last- minute cocktail, giving final interviews or, in the case of DQ/DX, the Danish drag queen who got booted out in the semi-final, parading up and down screaming to be noticed.
More low-key, although it's pretty difficult to be inconspicuous when wearing glammed-up Barbie and Ken flight attendant uniforms, were Scooch. Bubbly, full of enthusiasm and (as it turned out) a jet load of misplaced confidence, the UK entry promised to fly the flag. Which they did – at half mast.
Looking back now it's easy to see that Scooch, like Javine and Gemini before them, never stood a chance of getting into the Top Ten, let alone winning the contest, and not because of political voting either, the trite line used time and time again to excuse the UK's ongoing failure to choose a song that makes the grade.
Tomorrow, I'll be flabbergasted if Andy Abraham's bland, unimaginative middle-of-the-road-kill drone Even If, doesn't suffer the same fate – le Royaume Uni nul points.
You can just imagine the headlines already: Trash – ex-binman's attempt to win Eurovision is rubbish.
A strong, edgy number with a good hook is what Britain needs, preferably with an eccentric twist. After all, it worked for Lordi.
Now here's an idea – get Lulu to sing a power ballad version of Daz Sampson's Teenage Life while wearing a latex monster mask.
What do you mean she wouldn't need a mask? Oh, oh, I'm beginning to sound like Terry.
And just for the record, this year my money is on the Bosnia & Herzegovina entry, Pokusaj by Laka – it's just mad enough to win. There, that's them jinxed.
The full article contains 550 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
