Ooh, that was controversial wasn’t it? Saturday’s Polish final (their first for five years, who do they think they are, the BBC?) cranked up the anticipation only to end in astonished exasperation for most of the international fans. It’s been rather amusing to survey the aftermath: here’s what happened.
Earlier this year excitement started to build when the rumours began of a return by Edyta Gorniak. Edyta, you’ll recall, was the first ever Polish representative in 1994, finishing in an impressive second place. Cue plenty of fan-boy knicker-wetting: Edyta occupied one of those hallowed places in Eurovision history, tinged in soggy-eyed, rose-tinted nostalgia for a time when ballads ruled and the Irish could be handed the trophy before we’d even begun, just to save time. This promised Second Coming was but a notch or two down from an ABBA reunion in Eurovision terms (though not quite as truly thrilling as a return of Peter, Sue and Marc, calm your clamour, please).
Well, what could top that? Enter Margaret, field left.
No sooner had Edyta’s return been confirmed, and Eurovision knickers the continent over had been popped in for an extra spin cycle, then enter a rival – and some would say a better one. Links started to circulate of Cool Me Down, a modern Rihanna-like pop track that piqued our interests. Many (myself included) had this immediately down as a contender for the Big Win in May. Poor Edyta! All these years waiting for a big comeback and here she was, dropped like a hot potato as allegiances shifted to Maggie. It wasn’t helped that Edyta’s song wasn’t actually that good, once we’d heard it, but she couldn’t be ruled out: we know she can turn it all on on the night
Over at the bookies the odds had narrowed at the whiff of Edyta, and shrunk even further at the news of Margaret. What was this – Poland leading the betting before they’d even chosen their song? But with two great contenders, what could possibly go wrong? Oh yes, an apparent outsider who was actually so far inside the doors and windows were firmly bolted behind him.
Fast forward to Saturday’s final: a million few hundred Euro fans huddled around their connected devices following all the action live. Margaret was going to walk it, of course. Or was she? Could Edyta’s wide fan base clinch it for her? As the votes came in – amid a wider confusion by most people not having the equivalent of Melodifestivalen-level Polish – Edyta’s name was called! She’d done it, she’d won! She didn’t look so happy about it though… Hang on… No! It’s Margaret! She’s won! But she’s also not looking best chuffed… What the…?
Suddenly a boy with long-hair and a scarlet frock-coat is grinning from ear-to-ear. But who is he? What’s happening? Oh – he’s the one who sang song number seven, the one that nobody’s paid much attention to because we were waiting for the two favourites. And HE’S WON! How the hell did that happen? Who the hell is he?
Oh that classic Eurovision school-fan-boy error: we haven’t done our homework, have we? Just like only getting excited about the Schlagerdivas who came 6th in a Melodifestivalen heat we’ve ignored the-one-we-haven’t-heard-of-before. Turns out he’s a former X-Factor star in Poland so we should have assumed he might pick up one or two votes along the way, maybe even a dead-cert for the Poles.
As we cried and lamented into our Facebooks and Twatted on about our shock some plucky few took to more drastic action and began petitions to the Polish government for an immediate overturning of the result and the sending of the much-wronged Margaret instead! Yes, that’s right: a petition against a completely fairly selected song for a country you don’t even live in because it’s not your favourite – doh!
In the end Edyta gave a good performance of a duff song and Margaret did the opposite. Although she started as my clear favourite the problem with Margaret’s song turned out to be Margaret. With a song claiming her to be so hot and smokin’ she needed a lot more sass and a performance more on fleek than her lyrics suggested. Our frock-coated chum Michal just turned up and sang the pants off his rather plain number and bang, it was in the bag, and Poland’s odds had drifted a mile. Many now wonder whether they’ll even muster qualification at all. It’s almost too much controversy for a fan-boy like me to bear. And not even a comely butter-churning wench in sight…
Monty x