Eurovision 2021 : The (Un) Official Review

With the non-starter that was Eurovision 2020 now a distant memory, it was a welcome return to the world's biggest music competition on Saturday night, as the Ahoy Arena played host to the 65th edition of the Eurovision Song Contest.

As we are now accustomed to, 32 European countries plus Australia, battled in two midweek semi-finals for 20 Grand Final places and were joined by the "Big 5" plus hosts, The Netherlands to make a final line-up of 26 songs...

Where are we going next year...?

(The final score for each country is split into two, the jury vote and the televote making the final number. The returning artists from 2020's non-contest are denoted with a *)

...

1) CYPRUS - Elena Tsagrinou* with 'El Diablo' - 16th with 94 points (50/44)

As ever, it is a tough gig to open the show, with Cyprus' Lady Gaga-lite getting the nod. This one had produced controversy with religious groups as the song is about dancing with "El Diablo", aka, the Devil.

It was a good song to kick the show off with, but as you're about to see, this field of 26 songs may be the strongest ever seen. 16th was fair.

2) ALBANIA - Anxhela Peristeri with 'Karma' - 21st with 57 points (22/35)

For the second contest running, Albania were given the "death slot", as no act has ever won the Contest from 2nd position in the running order. 

I was surprised this was given the slot, as it was quite upbeat and Anxhela's voice was superb, but unfortunately, the early songs need something mighty special to be remembered. 21st was harsh in the context of the other songs, but not altogether surprising.




3) ISRAEL - Eden Alene* with 'Set Me Free' - 17th with 93 points (73/20)

The "it's all political" brigade clearly ignore the fact that Israel not only qualified but picked up 93 points despite being in the middle of a conflict.

Featuring the highest ever note from 20-year old Eden Alene, it fell by the wayside slightly, but a qualification for the Israelis is a good result nonetheless. 17th was probably correct.

4) BELGIUM - Hooverphonic* with 'The Wrong Place' - 19th with 74 points (71/3)

Exactly as the voting suggests, this moody number was always going to do better with the juries than the public; but it provided something different from the pop numbers we are accustomed to. 

A huge band in their native Belgium, their performance was very good but it just lacked a bit of oomph. 

5) RUSSIA - Manizha with 'Russian Woman' - 9th with 204 points (104/100)

Long gone are the days that the Russians get ceremoniously booed off stage and this one wins my, "I hate it before I see it live" contest. It didn't make much sense as a track, but seeing it live, I absolutely loved it.

Manizha clearly gave it everything, and despite it never looking like troubling the leaders, 9th is a good and a fair spot for a song that grew in popularity throughout the week.

6) MALTA - Destiny* with 'Je Me Casse' - 7th with 255 points (208/47)

One of the big pre-contest favourites came from Malta, and Destiny - who has already won Junior Eurovision - came to slay. I have to say, I had this down as my winner and to only get 47 points from the public vote was a big shock in the room... Not least to Destiny... 

7) PORTUGAL - The Black Mamba with 'Love is on My Side' - 12th with 153 points (126/27)

A real dark horse this one, and again, its popularity sky-rocketed as the week went on. It finished 4th in it's semi final and did well on Saturday night, let down again by the public vote who all careered behind a small number of songs (see later in the list...)

Cracking effort from Portugal though, and the old cinematic style really played into its hands. 12th was fair.

8) SERBIA - Hurricane* with 'Loco Loco' - 15th with 102 points (20/82)

Another one of my pre-contest favourites came from Serbia's tribute to Little Mix. The three women, wind machine assisted, really put on a stunning show and I'm surprised it didn't finish higher than it did.

My only guess is that it came across as too "common" for a professional jury looking for something a bit more classy. (See Portugal).

9) UNITED KINGDOM - James Newman* with 'Embers' - 26th with 0 points (0/0)

That's a lot of zeros...

Like Graham Norton said, I simply do not know what to say. The new double-pronged voting system apparently makes it near impossible to get the dreaded "nul points", but the UK being the UK, we have managed it.

It was no slight on James Newman, who gave a solid enough performance but the list of problems with the UK at Eurovision is longer than one of the trumpet props they were using... 

10) GREECE - Stefania* with 'Last Dance' - 10th with 170 points (91/79)

18-year old Stefania was the youngest contestant in the competition, and her effort, 'Last Dance' was a catchy number, ruined by a strange green screen setup and dancers with no faces.

I was distracted the whole way through, and while I could see what they were trying to do, it just didn't work. Given the strength of other songs, I'm surprised this got a top-10 finish.

11) SWITZERLAND - Gjon's Tears* with 'Tout l'Univers' - 3rd with 432 points (267/165)

Another pre-contest favourite came from the lovely Gjon's Tears who belted out this french language song with great aplomb. I didn't particularly like it when I first heard it, but it has grown on me hugely, to the point I had it in 2nd place, much to the derision of the people I was watching the show with.

Seems like a genuinely lovely guy as well, and 3rd seemed like a fair compromise for a powerful song.

12) ICELAND - Dadi o Gagnimagnio* with '10 Years' - 4th with 378 points (198/180)

Do forgive the horribly English typing of their band name, but I do not possess an Icelandic keyboard.

I feel sorry for these guys. 2020 didn't happen and they were unable to perform live for the whole week in 2021 as one of them came down with the dreaded "C" in midweek. Their rehearsal footage was used, and the popularity of the band shone through with a deserved 4th place.

13) SPAIN - Blas Canto* with 'Voy a Querdarme' - 24th with 6 points (6/0)

One of four songs to get zero points from the public, this ballad was simply too boring to make it into the psyche of the crowds watching. The huge moon was a bit gimmicky and the song simply passed me by. Only saved from the ignominy felt by the United Kingdom by stealing six points from the juries.

24th was more than fair.

14) MOLDOVA - Natalia Gordienko* with 'Sugar' - 13th with 115 points (53/62)

I quite liked this song in the lead up, but Natalia's performances never really stood up. It was very breathy and the dancers were off-putting, and it never really worked.

One of the countries you could argue benefits from neighbourly voting, it ended up in 13th which was extremely generous.

15) GERMANY - Jendrik with 'I Don't Feel Hate' - 25th with 3 points (3/0)

The third song to get nothing from the public, and frankly, deservedly so. This tune is nothing short of irritating and the fact I'm not allowed to say that because the song is about not hating things sends my brain into a spin.

Less said the better.

16) FINLAND - Blind Channel with 'The Dark Side' - 6th with 301 points (83/218)

Finland love sending a rock song and this was no different, with the public absolutely loving it. They were leading at one point as they picked up 218 points alone from the televote, but the jury vote let them down.

Not my usual cup of tea, but it was a cracking performance and it deserves its 6th place.

17) BULGARIA - Victoria* with 'Growing Up is Getting Old' - 11th with 170 points (140/30)

I never really "got" this unfortunately, and at this stage of the evening, it was just too slow and meandering to really get my attention. It was touted as a potential dark horse, but it fell away after the public vote, along with many others.

11th was fair.

18) LITHUANIA - The Roop* with 'Discoteque' - 8th with 220 points (55/165)

Mightily popular with the public, the odd dance moves and the very bright yellow clothing added to the rising stock that are The Roop. 

They were one of the big favourites in 2020, and touted as one of the potential winners this year (among a very open field).

'Discoteque' was catchy, had the unique dance moves and the likability factor that earned it a solid and well-deserved 8th place.

19) UKRAINE - Go_A* with 'Shum' - 5th with 364 points (97/267)

The song that gained the most traction as the week went on was this native electro-folk track by Go_A. Non-watchers of Eurovision may wonder what on Earth this song is doing in the top 5, but I can definitely see why it was.

It's unique, it stands out and the native feel gave it an extra boost. It peaked at the right time, finishing 2nd with the public, but it fell just short. 

20) FRANCE - Barbara Pravi with 'Voila' - 2nd with 499 points (248/251)

Popular with both juries and the public, this was many people's choice to win and you can see why. Full of fire, the French swagger and the Edith Piaf style, it had everything a Eurovision winner commands. 

I felt she was trying a tad too hard during her performance, which detracted somewhat from the song, but it is a brilliant offering and a shame the French just missed out on the trophy.

21) AZERBAIJAN - Efendi* with 'Mata Hari' - 20th with 65 points (32/33)

When you come after one of the hot favourites, you better bring your A game and unfortunately, Efendi didn't. Her song was too similar to her 2020 entry, (which didn't go down well with Eurovision fans) and it felt a bit samey to some of the other songs we'd already heard, (note: Serbia).

20th felt a bit harsh but again, given the strength of the field, not unsurprising.



22) NORWAY - Tix with 'Fallen Angel' - 18th with 75 points (15/60)

Named 'Tix' due to have Tourette's Syndrome, this was the surprise winner of Norway's selection process - Melodi Grand Prix - and I'm sure Tix himself is sick of walking around with angel wings. This song was perpetually in my head, but I'm not certain the Eurovision crowd go for gimmicks anymore? 18th seemed fair enough.

23) NETHERLANDS - Jeangu Macrooy* with 'Birth of a New Age' - 23rd with 11 points (11/0)

Another song to get zilch from the public, and maybe harshly so, but this was in a crowd of finishing songs that lit up the Ahoy Arena, and despite a great reaction from the partisan crowd, there was something missing from this performance.

I loved the song, but even I had it in 21st place. He seemed like he was having the time of his life though, and that's all that counts!

24) ITALY - Maneskin with 'Zitti e Buoni' - WINNERS with 524 points (206 / 318)

They were the pre-contest favourites, despite not being the usual genre for a Eurovision winner and although I can't quite put my finger on why, I have liked this from the very beginning. I can't explain to you why though...

There was also a humorous moment when they were announced as the winners and the lead singer was caught taking what looked coke...

25) SWEDEN - Tusse with 'Voices' - 14th with 109 points (46/63)

Sweden are so good at this Eurovision malarkey nowadays, but this was a rare poor showing from them. Someone pointed out that his skin colour held him back, (See Netherlands and Malta for other cases in point), and there is certainly a pattern emerging there...

I hope for the sake of the Contest that isn't the case...

26) SAN MARINO - Senhit* (ft. Flo Rida) with 'Adrenalina' - 22nd with 50 points (37/13)

Closing the show is never easy, because everyone is totting up their scorecards and deciding on a winner, but if ever there was a final song worth listening to, this was it.

All the hype was about the emergence of one of music's megastars in Flo Rida but it turns out you can enlist the services of one of the most well-known names in music and still not do well. It was a right shock it finished in 22nd though and only got 13 points from the public...

....

So, there we are. Italy have won the Eurovision Song Contest for the first time in many a year. I could write a whole piece on where the United Kingdom is going wrong, and I think I'll save the rant for another time...

Italy 2022 awaits...

Life Update - #668

I wonder if all those years ago, when I started this blog with a regurgitation of hatred and frustration with the world as I wrestled with my identity and insecurity, I would ever have even contemplated living through such a torrid and dreadful time such as this.

Over 1,000 people per day are dying of Covid-19, our hospitals are being overloaded with intensive care patients and looking out the window of our Paediatric Outpatients department, I see a huge white tent housing the dead that can't fit into the hospital's mortuary.

It's like a scene out of a zombie apocalypse movie, and the bottom line is, I'm not even on the front line. I mean... People say I am on the front line, as I enter Bedford Hospital every day, but that tag doesn't sit comfortably with me as I wile away my days on the paediatric reception, almost tucked away from the horrors of it all. 

Individuals say, "Thank you for all of your hard work on the front line", not knowing I spend the majority of my day reading BBC news articles and stealing a cheeky biscuit.

However, 10 months on from the beginning of this nightmare, I don't feel as if I've struggled. Life has been boring if stable but I haven't felt as if I've missed out on anything. Maybe because we're all in the same boat, that familiar FOMO feeling of staying in on a Friday night when the world parties isn't there, because the world isn't partying. The world is mourning.

I've had the first dose of my Pfizer/BioNTech vaccine, or whatever capital letters and small letters make up "biontech", and it seems I may have escaped the illness that millions of others have suffered with. I just hope that when life returns to (near) normal, we all realise the importance of the luxuries we have and how lucky we really are.

My life has changed so much from post No. 1. The amount of clean slates and declarations of solidity that have come and gone in a fit of anger or alcohol-fuelled psychosis would make the most battle hardened cat get nervous, but as I approach my 30th birthday, I'm still standing.

Not only am I still standing, I guess I'm moving forward. I've had a good 18 month stint in the sports journalism world and I am proud of the patience I have shown in accepting that the perfect role won't just materialise. Appreciating that this career will move slowly and not everything will fall into place at once; while it's perfectly acceptable to keep living on a receptionist salary - especially in a time where so many are losing their jobs. 

It reminds me of things I have read. Some people get married at 18, divorced at 22 and re-marry by 25. Some are CEO's by the time they are 30 but dead by 40. Some spend their entire lives working for their dream retirement for their dream retirement never to come. Life moves at different paces for different people, and yes - I do still look at the semi-colon tattooed on my wrist and remember that I shouldn't even be here to tell the tale.

The New Year episode of 2012, the ill-fated trip to London town that resulted in a trauma so deep I still cannot remember what happened to this day. The 10 days in the Barnet Priory with the man who screamed all night and the constant, never-ending panic attacks. They are my experiences, but also the experiences of a different man, all wrapped up into almost 30 years of a life that has plenty more to give. However, I am also not so naive as to think I am incapable of returning to those days. I must stay on my toes.

This melancholy tone of this post is a result of potentially the most defining moment of humanity this century so far. A global pandemic that has shut down whole economies, whole countries and has decimated so many lives, figuratively and literally, does that to you. 

Whatever happens, I have somehow managed to always be in the right place at the right time, and long may that continue.

Why Policing Non-Action and Labeling it Prejudice is Damaging

Over the weekend, I made a mistake in getting dragged into a Twitter war. It's the most unwinnable and laborious task, and one that requires a thick skin to deal with the inevitable snide comments from strangers.

The war of words was off the back of an incident involving an "LGBT campaigner" and former England rugby star, Austin Healey. 

This weekend was Rainbow Laces weekend; a weekend of campaigning to highlight LGBT issues in sport, of which many still exist. It was uplifting to see positivity about the campaign and is an understated and effective way in raising awareness.

However, Austin Healey, while commentating on a Premiership rugby clash on BT Sport, didn't mention the Rainbow Laces campaign during his stint. This was his only crime, and it now seems this is punishable by being labelled "homophobic". 

Austin Healey now commentates on Premiership
rugby on BT Sport.

Let me be clear. Austin Healey didn't say anything homophobic while commentating. He didn't sit idly by and listen to a co-commentator being homophobic. He didn't insinuate anything homophobic in his coverage. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. This, according to the LGBT campaigner, was enough to label him a homophobe; and not only did he do that, he then published Austin Healey's private response asking him why he had been labeled as such to his tens of thousands of followers.

This enabled a pile on. More and more people piled into Healey and labeled him a homophobe, and for what? For NOT saying anything?

What kind of world are we now living in where saying nothing is comparable to true prejudice? 

Setting the threshold for homophobia so low threatens to alienate the very people we want to educate as LGBT campaigners. We must not forget that the majority of people are not homophobic in 2020. Setting the "Homophobia Bar" as low as "Not Saying Anything" categorises 90% of the population as homophobic; which is wholly untrue and frankly gross.

We are not fighting at the Stonewall Inn here; where aggression and demands were the only way forward towards acceptance. 

We are working on changing attitudes. To educate people that what they say and do can have an effect on the well-being of LGBT+ people. We do not need to harass and demand answers from people who say nothing. Otherwise, they will turn around and walk away. We cannot force people into becoming cheerleaders, and while the more allies, the better, forcing people to become allies potentially makes them uncomfortable and detracts from the entire point.

An example I use is from the NHS. We have a Rainbow Badge scheme; where employees sign up to wear the Rainbow Badge as a sign for LGBT+ patients that we are there to listen and won't be prejudiced against them.

The NHS knows that forcing people to wear the badge is detrimental to the entire point, so don't do it. What if a young person comes to A&E in crisis, and the first person they see is a badge wearer who doesn't know what to do? They're only wearing the badge because they've been forced to. It makes the situation much worse.

However, while the damage seems to be minimal in this case, instances like this threaten genuine careers. The cancel culture - as those online call it - polices people to the nth degree, and now it seems to have grown into non-action being policed and punished accordingly.

Going after individuals for not saying anything is a bizarre notion. I understand if Healey had said or done something homophobic; the LGBT campaigner would be within his rights to call him out on it. I might well have backed him up. but, we're not dealing with JK Rowling here. Austin Healey is a man being attacked for saying nothing.

I could even understand the attack if Healey had said nothing in response to perhaps a co-commentator saying something prejudiced.

But to say, "You're homophobic" on the basis of no content is not only odd, it is arguably slanderous. Unfortunately, it seems the LGBT campaigner may be in hot water, and if it does come to pass that this is taken further, I hope he learns a lesson in picking his battles.

I have the upmost respect for people who stand in the way of adversity and prejudice and fight, but all respect and credibility is lost if you go and look for battles that simply do not exist.

It pains me to quote a right-wing thinker, but quote him I must on this occasion. Douglas Murray - the author of 'The Madness of Crowds' - thinks there are some in the LGBT community who wish beyond all wishes they were fighting in the 1960's. 

"They foam at the mouth at the sheer prospect of a violent uprising, or to be a part of the Stonewall Inn riots, and are trying to create the same in the modern day, except the opposition isn't there."

Unfortunately, I am inclined to agree, and it makes me feel uneasy to do so. The majority of the population are on our side; they KNOW that homophobia is wrong. By grouping everyone who isn't outrageously vocal about it as homophobic has the potential to turn these supporters against us. 

How would you feel if you supported an issue but a know-it-all labeled you for not being vocal about it? And then posted it on social media so other people can shout it too? You're not going to nod accordingly and pick up a battle axe. You're going to feel disenchanted. You're going to feel angry. You're going to walk away and in the meantime, we've lost a potential ally.

As I type, we are nearing the end of '16 Days of Action Against Domestic Violence'. 

By the very same logic used in this instance, Austin Healey has three days to denounce domestic violence, otherwise he is very much for women-beating.

See how ridiculous that sounds? There is no middle ground anymore. It's either you are a cheerleader for the cause or you are wholly against the cause. It is apparently becoming no longer acceptable to be left alone to live your life, and this is by far the most concerning aspect of the whole episode.

Oh, and as an aside, when I approached him about his comments, the LGBT campaigner called me a "cunt" and then blocked me. Only unblocking me to have another pop before blocking me for a second time.

Speaks volumes.

The Leak, The Man and the Battering Ram

Today feels like the kind of day that needs to be immortalised in blog form. The kind of day where you finally get home and laugh, because somehow, the events that have preceded it are too ridiculous to process. I believe there are a few examples of such days deep within these pages...

It all started at 7:30 this morning. A normal Thursday, wondering what the inpatient ward was going to throw at us that day, albeit rather wet outside. The inclement weather necessitated a rain coat, and as I opened the door to the cupboard that stored said coat, I did think to myself, "I haven't actually opened this cupboard door in weeks."

What I was greeted with, apart from the ensemble of junk that is thrown in there and forgotten about, was a trickle of water from the ceiling, straight down my golf bag which, it turns out, was now half full with water. The mould that had gathered on the ceiling was biblical and there was a sizable bump on the ceiling. This was going to cave in, at any moment.

I rushed upstairs, for the leak must have been coming from the flat above. I knocked on his door, to no response. I banged hard on his door, to no response. I opened the letterbox and shouted, "Emergency!" through it, to no response.

All I could hear was silence, with the intermittent sounds of running water.

"Is he in trouble?", I thought to myself. I was now torn between worrying about my flat flooding and the welfare of this admittedly loud and obnoxious neighbour. I ended up calling 111 - that non-emergency number - and asked what I should do. 

The result was the appearance of a single paramedic who tried all the same things I did to no avail. Knock on the door. Bang on the door. Shout through the letterbox. Nothing, but the noise of running water...

"Well, I've got to call the fire brigade and break in", he said, nonchalantly and with no warning. All of a sudden, things felt rather real. Within minutes, a team of firefighters were dragging heavy kit up the main staircase, including one of those battering rams you only ever see on '24 Hours in Police Custody' as they bust open a drug den. 

I was told to go back to my flat and wait inside, with only the increasingly heavy leak pounding the bottom of a bucket for company.

Now, the flats in this block have just been fitted with brand new doors, so they are probably the sturdiest they will ever be, but the fire brigade took at least 15 minutes to crash through that door. It was like a building site. Neighbours came outside to enquire what the hell the noise was. 

Crash. Crash. Crash. 

I had half an eye on proceedings upstairs, and half an eye on the now growing bump in my ceiling and the small cracks that had started to form, with more water seeping through them. This is going to go...

Crash. Crash. Crash.

Finally, they got in. What they were greeted with was a blissfully unaware man in his late-50s sitting on his sofa watching TV. 

I kid you not. He had not moved. He had a neighbour banging on his door and shouting "Emergency!" through the letterbox. He had a paramedic do the same. HE HAD FIVE FIREFIGHTERS TRYING TO SMASH HIS DOOR DOWN WITH A BATTERING RAM.

"Oh, sorry, I just thought the council were doing some work." 

Flabbergasted doesn't cut it. Annoyed doesn't cut it. Laughably moronic doesn't cut it. There is no word or phrase in the English language that adequately described that situation. He then had the cheek to be angry to the fireman for breaking his door down. 

"Well, at least he's alive", said the lone paramedic, as he laughed his way back to his Vauxhall. 

But the story doesn't end there.

One of the firemen stopped by my flat on the way down to have a look at the leak. It turns out the source of the leak was from the flat upstairs, via a broken water valve in a small cupboard. No one's fault. I can't say I'd have noticed it if it was me. One of those things, I guess.

The fireman came into my flat, looked at the bump and the continuously leaking water and made the sure fire mistake of poking it. 

Crash!

Through came the water. The fireman took the brunt of the force, with the now multiple buckets helping out and only some water making it out into the hallway. Much to the delight of his mates, he was now drenched. It was an amusing moment in an otherwise farcical morning.

So, the water was off. The leaked water had escaped; and I'd seemingly got away with very minor damage and a strong smell of damp. 

By this time it was 10am, and I was two hours late for work. They knew what was happening, but whatever happened from here, I knew I was in for a long day as I'd now have to finish at 8pm and not 4pm like normal.

To my landlord's credit, (I am a council tenant, so it's a housing association), they sent round an electrician to make sure it was all safe, (it was), before I went off to work, leaving my poor Mother to negotiate the influx of other tradesmen who were coming to fix the ceiling.

This is the point where we found out I have an asbestos problem. To be honest, given how today has gone, I'm not even surprised. At one point, I thought I wasn't going to be allowed to go home but, again, to my landlord's credit, they arranged for a crack team of asbestos specialists to come round and cut away the asbestos. 

So now I'm home. Typing this. The smell of damp still persists, there are small puddles in the hallway and there is brick work exposed on the ceiling with a fuse box nearby, but I'll always have the story of how a neighbour of mine didn't realise that firefighters were smashing his door down as he watched Loose Women. 

Sometimes all you can do is laugh, right?

Why Cricket?

The clock ticks along to 1pm and it's time to walk out to the middle. Over the boundary rope and on to the freshly cut outfield towards the crease. The opposition throw the match ball between themselves, hungry for your wicket. The opening bowler marks out his run up and places the small white disc on the ground; indicating the point he begins his run in towards you.

"Middle stump please!" I bellow to the man in white, stood at the other end of the pitch.

"That's middle", he responds courteously. "The bowler is right arm over". Knowledge I am already aware of, as this 10-year rivalry is about to have a new chapter written into it's pages. I carve out a line with my boot spikes, from middle peg, over the batting crease and position myself on it and look up. The bowler, over 6 feet tall and built like an oak tree trunk stands waiting, the hard new cherry in his hands, fingers caressing the seam. I look around the field; four men stand behind me, mittens poised waiting for a nick. The others stare in with the devils in their eyes, waiting for their moment of glory.

"Play." The one word that signals the start of something magical or something torturous. Who knows what today will bring.

The bowler runs in as I watch the ball intently. Stood stock still until he draws his arm back. Years of practice and habitual repitition draws my bat up with him and bang... The ball hits the middle of the bat followed by a roar of, "No!" just in case the ball going back to the bowler means the only friend I have out there with me decides it's the signal to run.

The game begins...

Cricket is a sport that I was never truly exposed to as a child. We were much more a football family, my focus on goalkeeping and Luton Town, but it was the 2005 Ashes series that ignited an untouched flame inside me that has burnt - sometimes wildly and sometimes barely - for the past 15 years.

Cricket is an infuriating sport. Up there with golf, sometimes you wonder why on Earth you spend so many hours playing it, wondering whether today will be the day you find the middle of the bat you spent hundreds of pounds on, or whether you find the gaps in the field. Even today, I struggle to find the words that adequately describe the addiction to it all.

It's not the "standing around in a field" angle that makes me think, or "chasing after a small red ball" either, but instead the anticipation. The anticipation that today, you could feel indestructible followed, sometimes, by the realisation that you are not.

Cricket is the only team sport that is fiercely individual. You play in a team with ten others but whether you have bat in hand, or are running into bowl, it's all down to you. One day, you can score a hundred runs and be the cream of the crop. The next, you can miss a slow ball and be clean bowled for 0. There is no other sport where you can go from hero to zero and back to hero so frequently.

It is also a dangerous sport. It is often labelled as "boring" and "uneventful", but there are moments out on the field where you marvel at batsmen avoiding what is a cricket ball essentially with the hardness of concrete. 

You see, cricket is 90% in the head. You can have the best technique, the best kit, playing on the best grounds but if you can't ignore everything else that's going on around you and focus on that small, hard red ball coming at you, you're toast.

...

I stopped writing this post at that point. You see, for the past couple of years, I've considered giving up playing. My reflexes aren't the same; my eyesight is going, and I can't seem to find the ability I once had, making cricket more annoying than it really should be. Today, I played in a knockout semi-final; a big game by all accounts, and I barely slept the night before.

I've played 220 games for my club - over 15 seasons - and I can't remember a game that I was so nervous for than this one, except maybe Finals Day in 2013. I am experienced now, but today felt like the last chance. I'm not even 30 yet, but today just felt like it was make or break.

I only scored 15. The pitch was a farm, (literally) and batting was almost impossible. While one ball took off, the next one rolled before the next one jagged sideways off the seam. It was very tricky.

In making that "good" 15, I found the middle of the bat more often than not. However, one shot, an on-drive straight back past the bowler with perfect technique and timing flicked a switch in my brain.

I can still do this. I do have more to give.

Cricket is a sport than can muddle your brain. Even the professionals have a higher rate of mental health issues because of the cocoon one finds themselves in when things aren't going your way. I don't quite know how to explain it. It's as if you know you can do it, but you can't. Making you question whether you can do it at all.

We lost today; part and parcel of any sport, meaning it's the last game of our truncated season. Looking at the scorecard, a 15 next to my name is certainly nothing to write home about. But that single shot - a shot that almost all pundits agree is technically one of the most difficult shots in the game - has suddenly made me realise I can offer something, and has committed me to a 16th year of this crazy, infuriating, mind-boggling, brilliant sport that we call cricket.

Just one shot. Fine margins...

Eurovision Song Contest : The Story of Fire Saga (2020)

While the actual Eurovision Song Contest this year was cancelled, fans of the world's biggest singing competition had a silver lining to look forward to with the highly publicised film about the contest that hit the small screen today.

As a Eurovision fan, I was highly sceptical. An American comedy star writing and leading in a movie about a subject many people, especially here in Britain, make light of? Surely it was going to be a highly misleading caricature of the show some of us have grown to love?

Will Ferrell plays one half of the duo 'Fire Saga', along with Rachel McAdams and what transpires, (despite a few factual inaccuracies easily noticeable to the esteemed fan), is a story of two geeky Icelandic musicians making it all the way to the Eurovision Grand Final, albeit with a few hiccups along the way.

The film doesn't end as one would expect for a film of this manner, but the story does encapsulate everything a feel good story should and indeed captures the real meaning of Eurovision perfectly. The underdogs go from laughing stock to Europe-wide sweethearts - with suitable interjections from our very own Graham Norton - and at the end, you're left with goosebumps and a big smile across your face.

No one believes in this pair. Despite Sigrit Ericksdottir (McAdams) having a stunning voice, the duo are consigned to singing stupid songs in their town's only beat up bar. Every year, Lars Erikssong (Ferrell), submits a song to the Songvakeppnin (that's the show that Iceland has to choose it's Eurovision act), and every year, he hears nothing back.

Until, by chance, he and Sigrit are invited to the show in a "lucky" scenario and then reach the actual Song Contest by an even luckier scenario, which becomes the one gruesome moment of the film that makes you jump slightly, much to the delight of Lars and the derision of his Father...

The movie has a familiar narrative, the two dreamers concealing their love for one another, claiming the music is the only thing that connects them, but although the film is based around the pair and their bizarrely odd exploits, there are two other performances that stand out throughout the two hours.

Pierce Brosnan, (yes, James Bond himself), plays Lars' strict, disparaging Father who is openly ashamed of his performing son, claiming he makes a mockery of him and embarrasses him at every turn. Hearing a faux-Icelandic accent from a man I first saw play a suave British spy was a tad odd, but his character adds to the feel-good aesthetic that makes this movie.

However, the stand out performer for me was Dan Stevens (Downton Abbey, Legion, Night at The Museum). He plays the Russian act, Alexander Lemtov; the self-acclaimed favourite of the competition, and his act is suitably homoerotic to derive sniggers from the LGBT+ community, of which Russia are of course no fans of.

Gay dear? Me dear? No dear!

His camp demure, his fake pursuit of Sigrit and the four topless men he dances with on stage create a character so delicately created, that it's only at the end that it becomes obvious. Somehow, I don't think this film is going to be allowed in Russia...

It does have a couple of (very) minor flaws, only noticeable if you have an intricate knowledge of the workings of Eurovision but this is entirely forgivable and also a wonderful interlude featuring real Eurovision acts from days gone by at a VIP party.



From Loreen to Conchita, from Netta to John Lundvik and Alexander Rybak's violin, the three minute mash up of Eurovision and pop hits is a real singalong highlight and a big tick for the Eurovision fans watching on; and maybe provides a brief glimpse of what happens behind the scenes of our beloved song contest.

As a stand alone film, and (hopefully) without my Eurovision fan bias hat on, this film puts a smile on your face and is a cracking story of the underdog. It doesn't quite get douze points, but a very solid 8 points from me.

Eurovision 2020 - The Contest That Never Was

I can get past how Covid-19 has closed pubs and stopped football and cricket and made life exceptionally boring, but one thing I genuinely found hard to accept was how it decimated Eurovision week.

Last night should have been the Grand Final of one of the most competitive years in recent times, featuring a good 15 songs that I absolutely adored. However, the coronavirus stole the contest and we were treated* to a replacement tribute show instead.

So, to replace my annual review of the contest, I have decided to rank every winner from number 63 to number 1, a sign of absolute madness or absolute boredom. You decide.

Rather typically for a boy of my generation, I think a lot of the older songs will be lower down the list considering the time difference, so I apologise in advance for what may be some travesties.

And considering it's a day late, I'm going to whizz through them and hope you don't spot the mistakes that will surely be incoming. And don't argue if you disagree, because you surely will. It's what makes Eurovision almost unique!

So without further ado... (*questionably)

...

#63: Rock Me by Riva for Yugoslavia 1989

#62: Tom Pillibi by Jacqueline Boyer for France 1960

#61: Everybody by Dave Benton and 2XL for Estonia 2001

Why this song needed three people to sing it, I shall never know, and none of them would look out of place in a DJ booth at the back of your local Slug and Lettuce.

#60: The Voice by Eimear Quinn for Ireland 1996

#59: A-Ba-Ni-Bi by Izhar Cohen and the Alphabeta for Israel 1978

#58: Amar Pelos Dois by Salvadore Sobral for Portugal 2017

Sorry, I just don't get the love. Salvasnooze...

#57: Net Als Toen by Corry Brokken for Netherlands 1957

#56: Non ho l'eta by Gigiola Cinquetti for Italy 1964

#55: Si la vie est cadeau by Corinne Hermes for Luxembourg 1983

#54: Fengad av en Stormvind by Carola for Sweden 1991

#53: Hard Rock Hallelujah by Lordi for Finland 2006

Props for bringing something new and different to Eurovision but screaming doesn't do it for me. Although two years later, they tried the hard rock route again and I rather liked it so, ignore me.

#52: Dors, mon amour by Andre Claveau for France 1958

Robbed the song commonly known as 'Volare' that wasn't called 'Volare' to victoire...

#51: Every entrant from 1969 (Lulu, Salome, Lenny Kuhr and Frida Boccara)

Honestly? Just to get 1969 out of the way. What a palava...

#50: Nous les Amoreux by Jean-Claude Pascual for Luxembourg 1961

#49: Puppet on a String by Sandie Shaw for United Kingdom 1967

#48: Believe by Dima Bilan for Russia 2008

Cringe...

#47: L'oiseau et l'enfant by Marie Myriam for France 1977

#46: Ein Bisschen Frieden by Nicole for Germany 1982

#45: Apres toi by Vicky Leandros for Luxembourg 1972

#44: Dansevise by Grethe and Jorgann Ingmann for Denmark 1963

#43: Refrain by Lys Assia for Switzerland 1956

Sorry...

#42: Love Shine A Light by Katrina and the Waves for United Kingdom 1997

Sorry again...

#41: Een Beetje by Teddy Scholten for Netherlands 1959

#40: Ding-a-Dong by Teach-In for Netherlands 1975

#39: In Your Eyes by Niamh Kavanagh for Ireland 1993

#38: Un Premier Amour by Isabelle Aubret for France 1962

#37: La La La by Massiel for Spain 1968

Catchy? Yes. Completely unimaginative and undeserving of a Eurovision title? Also yes.

#36: Tu te Reconnaitras by Anne-Marie David for Luxembourg 1973

#35: Merci, Cherie by Udo Jurgens for Austria 1966

#34: Rock and Roll Kids by Paul Harrington and Charlie McGettigan for Ireland 1994

#33: I Wanna by Marie N for Latvia 2002

#32: Toy by Netta for Israel 2018

#31: All Kinds of Everything by Dana for Ireland 1970

#30: Waterloo by ABBA for Sweden 1974

Now, this was voted as the UK's favourite ever Eurovision entry of all time last night, but ever since I was forced to sit through a 4 hour show of a tribute band at the Princess Theatre in Torquay in 2004, I have always had bad flashbacks whenever an ABBA song appears... So... Sorry. Not sorry.

Only as high as 30 because it's a staple of the Eurovision Song Contest...

#29 Un banc, Un arbre, Une rue by Severine for Luxembourg 1971

#28: La Det Swinge by Bobbysocks! for Norway 1985

#27: Secret Garden by Nocturne for Norway 1995

#26: My Number One by Helena Paparizou for Greece 2005

#25: Satellite by Lena for Germany 2010

#24: Insieme: 1992 by Toto Cutogno for Italy 1990

#23: Save Your Kisses for Me by Brotherhood of Man for United Kingdom 1976

#22: 1944 by Jamala for Ukraine 2016

A song that's actually grown on me a lot, but I'm still annoyed it stole the title from Dami Im...

#21: Why Me? by Linda Martin for Ireland 1992

#20: Hallelujah by Milk & Honey for Israel 1979

#19: Making Your Mind Up by Bucks Fizz for United Kingdom 1981

#18: J'aime la vie by Sandra Kim for Belgium 1986

#17: Hold Me Now by Johnny Logan for Ireland 1987

#16: Poupee de cire, Poupee de son for Luxembourg 1965

#15: Running Scared by Ell & Nikki for Azerbaijan 2011

#14: Every Way That I Can by Sertab Erener for Turkey 2003

#13: Only Teardrops by Emmelie de Forest for Denmark 2013

#12: Arcade by Duncan Lawrence for Netherlands 2019

#11: Take Me To Your Heaven by Charlotte Nilsson for Sweden 1999

Into the top 10 of my favourite Eurovision winners of all time, that I haven't really given an awful lot of thought to but I was bored on a Sunday evening because of lockdown...

#Joint 10th: Wild Dances by Ruslana for Ukraine 2004

Not wanting to put either outside the Top 10, I've gone all 1969 and included two!

I saw Ruslana live in Lisbon in 2018 and she was absolutely superb...

#Joint 10th: Fairytale by Alexander Rybak for Norway 2009

This is a brilliant and original song and would have been higher but for an awful performance in the grand final in Moscow...

#9: Diva by Dana International for Israel 1998

An iconic moment in the history of Eurovision... Many people's favourite of all time!

#8: Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley by The Herreys for Sweden 1984

My ultimate guilty pleasure song...

#7: Ne Partez pas sans moi by Celine Dion for Switzerland 1988

I will always believe that Celine Dion has the best voice in world music of all time. Sends shivers down my spine whenever I listen to her...

#6: Fly on the Wings of Love by The Olsen Brothers for Denmark 2000

It took me a long time to actually realise this was a Eurovision song (as 2000 was a bit before my time!) and actually first heard this thanks to a dance cover by an obscure band called XTM. 

#5: Heroes by Mans Zelmerlow for Sweden 2015

Genuinely could have this top 5 in any order given how much I like them and Mans gave me a hug at the London Eurovision Party in 2015 so he gains a place for that.

#4: What's Another Year? by Johnny Logan for Ireland 1980

Literally have not stopped listening to this for the entirety of today, which may mean it's higher than I meant it to be, but the iconic Mr Eurovision's first Eurovision win is beautiful.

#3: Molitva by Marija Serifovic for Serbia 2007

Truly, truly beautiful and again, reprised so amazingly from Marija in the backdrop of empty Serbian streets last night. Have always loved this song and will continue to do so.

#2: Euphoria by Loreen for Sweden 2012

Many people's favourite, especially from my generation, this performance was an absolute stand out.

#1: Rise Like a Phoenix by Conchita Wurst for Austria 2014

For sheer power, for the staging, for the dress and for the impact it made, this will always be my favourite Eurovision entry and will take some beating. The reverberations it sent around Europe were monumental, plus she's so down to Earth and lovely to boot. A deserved Number One!

...

So there we are. Given a week or so where I thought this through properly, the order may be different but roughly, there are my Eurovision winners ranked bottom to top!

See you in Rotterdam in 2021, where (fingers crossed) everything is back to normal!