For those who see Eurovision as a proxy war, avenging geopolitical resentments under the cover of glitter and tight trousers, the odds were always stacked against the UK winning this year’s contest. Pretty much every country may have had a reason to begrudge the UK. Perhaps EU nations have not forgiven us for Brexit. The Russians still cannot believe we did not swallow that story about their secret agents visiting Salisbury Cathedral. The Australians, they might be sore about the trade deal row. But maybe – just maybe – our entry was not terribly good. “Conspicuously down-to-earth” is how the Independent described the UK’s contender, James Newman, a singer-songwriter from Settle in the Yorkshire Dales. Exactly what you do not need to be to win the silliest singing competition in the world. The victors, Italy’s Måneskin, were glamrockers who took to the stage in flared lederhosen with their nipples out. Their singer, Damiano David, celebrated with a high kick that split his trousers and declared: “We just wanted to say to the whole of Europe, to the whole world: rock’n’roll never dies.” Newman, who began alone on a podium with two huge trumpets pointing at his ears, had his coat on, a thigh-length leather number with too many zips. The Italians, whose song seemed to channel Arctic Monkeys’ I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, belted out Zitti E Buoni (Out of My Head); Newman’s Embers began like a Daniel Bedingfield B-side and went downhill from there. But did he really deserve to come last, the only act out of 26 to fail to win a single point from the juries? He was beaten by countries smaller than some English villages: San Marino, an enclave in northern Italy with a population of under 34,500, managed 50 points, courtesy of Flo Rida, a rapper from Florida. More than 7 million people in the UK tuned in to watch Newman’s underachievement and now, under Covid protocols, he must spend 10 days in isolation, and perhaps reflection. . And yet, unabashed, others quickly sought to follow him. Bill Bailey, winner of Strictly Come Dancing, was first out of the blocks on Sunday morning: “I’d be happy to throw my hat in the ring for #Eurovision 2022,” he tweeted. The offer gained tens of thousands of likes and an offer of a duet from Count Binface, who recently won 24,775 first preference votes in the London mayoral election promising to bring back Ceefax and to maintain a £1 pricing ceiling for croissants. Already, there is optimism. The UK is no stranger to the bottom of the Eurovision leaderboard and came in last place in 2019 with Michael Rice’s Bigger Than Us. The 2020 contest was postponed because of Covid. Fraser Nelson, the editor of the Spectator, dismissed the idea of a Brexit pushback. “The UK was simply outsung and outclassed by smaller countries who made more effort,” he wrote, arguing that Britain stopped trying some time ago. “The BBC chooses our entry and doesn’t bother with a contest, or the live television voter-drawn trials. So every year, Britain sends some unprepared soul to perish on the world stage.” Nelson said the UK, in fact, would never reach the final on merit: “The BBC pays so much money to Eurovision that the UK entry goes straight to the final.” The same was true of Germany and Spain, he said, the other two nations at the bottom of the table on Saturday. As for Newman, now he shines in the light preserved for plucky losers. “We love you James Newman” tweeted the Bake Off presenter Matt Lucas. “Well done for laughing it off,” said Dan Walker, the BBC presenter – much the best way “to respond to a spectacular Europe-wide boot in the bits”.