THERE CAN BE NO excuses this time. After years of treading water in the Eurovision abyss due to a combination of wrong acts and ill-advised compositions, the RTE panel gave its viewers a no-brainer when it came to deciding on this year's winning entry.

Should Niamh Kavanagh fail to qualify for the final, then the country should take a leaf out of Italy's book and remove itself from the competition. Never to be heard from again. And donate whatever it traditionally costs to fund an entry to government coffers, ensuring that it's passed onto the elderly when it comes to Christmas-bonus time.

That's not saying she deserves to win the contest, as I have no idea what the other finalists sound like. But her number is a vast improvement on our recent offerings. Yet short on the quality of her winner from 1993.

There must be a little bit of concern that it is too reminiscent of songs past and that the rest of Europe has adapted a more streetwise approach towards life in general. Last year's Norwegian winner with the fiddle was fresh, quirky and his song was just a little bit bonkers. Which the Europeans appear to love.

Another thing that stood out on the Late Late Show special was the sense of unease that emanated from the screen for the night. Down to the guests that were discussing each song. A reticent Dana and a Johnny Logan that visibly petrified Tubridy, each time he opened his mouth.

Obviously troubled by lingering sentiments, the three-time winner did have some valid points to make. Though the RTE chiefs probably put their hands over their ears in an effort to block him out. Throw Marty Whelan into the mix and it was like a reunion of yesteryear, though without the fireplace and the brandy.

Yet when they turned to take the results from the various juries around the country, those calling out the scores were young contemporary presenters, all operating on similar and direct wavelengths to our youth. Why weren't they invited to sit on the couch and give their comments? Or included on the panel that initially picked out the five finalists? Dana, Johnny and Marty are grand and popular but we've heard what they had to say, and sing, before. The reins to the Irish Eurosong competition, judging panel and all, need to be handed down to the next generation.

The songs weren't bad on Friday night and the best one won. If it was deliberately swayed in her favour we'll never know.

Niamh did us proud before, she will do so again. You can't but like her. If there is a next year, it would be more satisfying if they broke the mould and gave us something with a bit more edge. Oomph, I think they call it.

ROSES LOOKING FOR ESCORTS

Speaking of fresh blood, an email from the organisers of the Rose of Tralee Festival dropped into the office basket last week.

They are on the hunt for strapping lads to accompany the 'most charming and accomplished young ladies in the country' this autumn, and all men are invited to apply. Provided they are between the ages of 21 and 30. This stage has no place for grey hairs, knobbily knees or wrinkled brows.

Perhaps then it's time for a spinoff beauty pageant called the 'Middle aged Rose of Tralee'. Where the interviewing process might get a little more colourful.

Sadly for the majority of us hovering about this workplace, this email has killed anydreams of ever becoming male escorts. At least when it comes to the Rose of Tralee.

KILLER BACK IN NEWS

It's hard to believe that it is closing in on 20 years since tiny James Bulger was abducted and killed by Robert Thompson and Jon Venables. Yet the CCTV footage of the supermarket from which he was taken remains strikingly clear in the mind. Venables is back in the news again after breaking the conditions of his release and now the UK authorities have to decide what to do with him.

You have to sympathise with the parents who continue to live with the pain of what happened for the rest of their lives. For them there are no second chances.

TIME FOR BATTLE

Do you notice a spring in the man of the house's step this week? If so it may be because Mother's Day is this weekend and he's just thought of the ideal gift to light up her face come the hour. Alternatively it could be that Cheltenham starts next Tuesday.

If ever there was a time to engage in battle with the bookies then this is it. Once again a strong Irish team heads across the Irish Sea and we can only wish them the best of luck.

- SHEA tomkins