ON Saturday night, I was ready to lambast the rake of X Factor crooners. I was prepared to ridicule the attempts of Gary Barlow to be the new Simon Cowell. I was sitting there, with my glass of wine, all grumpy and harrumphy, expecting to be bored. I had written off the new show.
Three minutes later, I had a huge, big lump of a tear making its way down my face. The opening was incredibly exciting. The production team pulled all the tricks out of the bag -- helicopter shots over London, clips of Gary Barlow from Take That and a thumping sound track that took your breath away.
By the time the judges made their way into the first audition venue, I had to stop myself giving them a standing ovation. I made a decision last year that I would not lose my Saturday nights to this show ever again. But as I heard Janet Devlin sing Your Song, I knew this stupid show had me by the short and curlies.
Goodbye Saturday nights, I'm all yours X Factor!