It wasn't entirely Josh's fault. The song was dreadful, the scourings from Pete Waterman's nineteen-eighties bits-box. Think Rick Astley, if you can. Ladbrokes offered odds of 175-1 against Josh winning the competition; even Waterman felt he was "highly unlikely" to romp home.
The evening also saw Spain perform twice, after their first attempt was interrupted by a stage invader, while a Welshman represented Cyprus. For this year the voting rules were changed, but many nations still supported their mates. This time too, five countries dropped out of the competition, for financial rather than musical reasons it was claimed.
But Eurovision isn't rubbish, or a waste of time; it's too easy to pan the occasion. Camp, vulgar, yes, poor songs of course, but as a spectacle it's pure entertainment. Graham Norton was an adequate successor to the great Terry Wogan, though a little light on spite for my taste; more next year, please. But above all, Eurovision provides a moment for the peoples of Europe to bond over tacky, meaningless music. It's like dancing with your fat cousin while drunk at a family wedding; just a bit of fun.
Actually, with the cost of Eurovision this year at £21 million, and the winning country having to host the event next year, young Josh has done his nation proud.