I opened the paper to be met by the beaming grin of Claudia Winkleman accompanied by the happy headline: ‘Claudia takes over as Strictly Dancing host’. Finally! I exclaimed, nearly falling off the kitchen chair with glee.

The BBC have finally realised that their normal host for the hit Saturday night show is about as interesting and old hat as a very sedate episode of Songs of Praise.

I remained giddy until I realised to my disdain that it is Bruce Forsyth who is hanging up his cummerbund and tap shoes, and not Tess Daley who – let’s face it – could be replaced by a shop-front mannequin and very few would even notice.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a huge fan of Brucey – but at least he’s got some life and soul to him. At least he still manages a little twinkle in his eye.

His jokes are bad… but at least he manages to deliver them with some self-deprecation.

Tess Daley may be beautiful – I’ll give her that – but her presenting style is that of a Stepford wife let loose on a Butlins break: oozing false sentiments and dazzling white teeth. In real life, she seems lovely. But place her before a camera and a Saturday night audience and suddenly she’s Barbie’s much taller and much less realistic sister.

Unlike Claudia Winkleman, who – even beneath that heavy fringe – displays sharp wit and a real sense of what’s cool now.

She’s not afraid to reveal how a rehearsed scene went wrong, or to laugh at herself with a wide gaping chortle.

In short, she’s like one of your friends who just happened to end up on TV. But alas. Brucey is leaving.

However, on the flip side, at least we don’t have to endure that awkward high leg grab Bruce always attempts on Tess at the start of each show.

You would think that since they do it every week they’d look less surprised each time they manage it.

Also, this is – I believe – the first all-female hosting duo ever to grace our Saturday night TV sets.

And that’s pretty cool – even if one side of the duo is decidedly cooler than the other.