How Johnny Logan told me I'd cost Ireland its shot at glory in Eurovision
It was a tense, and brief, encounter between the media-shy star and Niamh Horan
Sunday May 24 2009
I HAVE a confession to make. I cost Ireland its Eurovision glory. It started with an innocent phone call to the legendary Johnny Logan.
I had heard before Christmas that the famous crooner was in talks with RTE to rescue us from our Eurovision misery, and decided to track down a number to ask the man himself.
It took a week of phone calls, dead ends and exhausting my contact list before a man in a hushed tone handed over the fourth secret of Fatima -- Johnny Logan's telephone number was in my hand.
And so my chat with the self-proclaimed "Mr Eurovision" lasted all of 10 seconds -- most of which was taken up with demands to know where I got his private mobile number -- before he slammed down the phone.
Fast forward several months to a cringeworthy performance of Et Cetera by Sinead Mulvey and Black Daisy, which saw us crashing out of the song contest at an embarrassingly early stage, and I'm sitting under Mr Logan's steely glare.
Dressed in a camel-coloured leather jacket and silver runners, he does not look impressed.
I had just let slip that it was I who had made the offending call to ask him if he would be leading us to glory once more.
"Was that you? In Germany?" His face screwed up in horrid realisation and despite his having just described himself as a cuddly teddy bear, I could tell I was about to see his claws.
"I was going to kill you," he spat. "It's because you had my mobile number. That's not allowed. My mobile is my private number. And when a journalist called me I went 'here we go again' and that was one of the main reasons I said no to the Eurovision."
"Really?" I asked. One half of my mind was racing at the thought of how if my grandmother was alive to hear this she'd officially disown me, and the other half was suspended in pure disbelief. "Yeah that was it," he snapped.
"I just said no. If a journalist is going to invade my private life, I said no.
"There's a way of doing this," the King of Eurovision reasoned, "if you want to speak to me, you don't call me directly."
You see, his royal highness is still a bit touchy about journalists invading his private life.
He has become extremely prickly about the media overstepping the mark.
And so, naturally, I tried to get a bit personal.
"End of conversation," he abruptly responded.
I persisted.
"No. That's the end of this conversation. Let's go somewhere else, completely away from that subject altogether. I am offended. Please skip on to the next thing.
"I don't talk about my private life. I have spoken already about my family. That conversation is over. Let it go."
I apologised but he continued: "I just think you went to a place that you shouldn't have and it was very rude."
Several apologies later and he had had enough, grabbing his guitar and storming out, leaving me staring at a group of bemused hotel staff who had gathered to watch the scene. One of the more senior members of staff sauntered over. Johnny is a hero in these parts and-- having been mobbed by older female fans on the way in -- I thought I was going to get an earful from the sharp-suited man.
"Are you all right?" he smiled sympathetically. "I see he walked out. Asking him about that touchy subject of the Eurovision were we?" he chuckled, tongue-in-cheek.
"Not exactly," I muttered.
Back to my feelings of guilt over costing Ireland the Eurovision. "What will my mother say?" I quivered at the thought.
Alas, a quick review of the tape put my conscience at ease.
Perhaps Johnny forgot that, at the start of our chat, he told me the real reason he had said no to RTE.
The sad reality is his refusal came down to cold, hard cash.
"Unfortunately they couldn't afford to pay me," he explained.
But would pure patriotism not tempt him to take us out of our misery? My idealistic reasoning is greeted with a very matter-of-fact response: "Patriotism doesn't put food on the table," came the stern reply.
Perhaps his new work will. Johnny Logan's latest album Irishman in America is out this week.
