Celtic melody haunts the Irish

It is the great tragedy of the Irish nation that in all of modern Europe, nobody hates them. And so, again, they have won the Eurovision song contest. The Brits, Slovaks, Turks, Germans, and all the rest have someone who will dig them out of a hole with those sweet words, "nul points". Not so the loveable Irish, with their stack of 12s.

Gloom-laden Dublin newspapers on Saturday all correctly predicted the disaster ahead. The Irish Times headline read "Ominous signs of Irish song contest win", pointing the way to its fourth victory in five years - and thus traditionally another year as host.

The rest of Europe, according to earlier reports from Oslo, may well be conspiring to keep the contest in Ireland permanently. Continental regulars apparently revel in annual trips to Dublin, saying last week that Ireland has the edge in parties and night-life over such restrained venues as Oslo.

Even the largest television companies are feeling squeezed by the satellite invasion, and footing the IRpounds 3m (pounds 3.12m) bill for Eurovision effectively kills off quality domestically produced drama on Irish television. Not suprisingly, faced with another year of long winter evenings watching repeats of Taxi and other United States small-screen antiques, the Irish viewing public are restless.

Liam Miller, director of television programming for Radio Telefis Eireann (RTE) signalled as much in his less-than-rapturous response to the win. In the stoically miserable tones of someone just told he is buying a round of drinks for 100 people, he declined to confirm that next year's event would be held in Ireland.

"It's another challenge to us. It's one we're going to have to consider very carefully," he said cautiously, adding it would be two weeks before a decision was made.

He will also be aware that the one good economic reason for winning - the chance to run a two-hour holiday promotion - now looks hollow. The tourist industry is now overheating, with hotels in prime locations from Dublin to Killarney booked solid for months ahead.

RTE faces vocal pressure at home, with the press hammering its feature output, citing an epidemic of bland phone-in and studio-based shows. What stings most is that these attacks come from some formerly among its major talents, such as Gerry Stembridge, theatre producer, film director and one-time satirical thorn in the sides of the country's politicians.

Ireland's other problem is that even its amateurs are better than the rest of Europe's professionals, so when a mere second-year student such as Eimear Quinn takes to the stage she romps home 48 points ahead of the field.