CONGRATULATIONS to Steve McCrorie, the winner of the BBC TV talent show The Voice, and probably the finest thing to come out of Clackmannanshire since Sweetheart Stout.

Apart from his obvious talent, he comes across as a genuinely nice guy and deserves all the success that will surely come his way. And I mean that most sincerely, folks.

Oops, sorry. That Hughie Green-ism just slipped in there. The thing is, I can't watch these new-fangled TV talent shows without a nod to the daddy of them all, Opportunity Knocks.

To be fair, comparing The Voice to OppKnocks (as it shall henceforth be known) is like comparing an iPhone to its Bakelite rotary-dial forerunner. One is the offspring of the other, and they perform similar functions, but they have changed almost beyond recognition.

Take the voting systems. These days, you can vote by mobile, landline or online, and the result is known within the hour. The presenter will do his or her best to build up some tension while announcing the result; the normal procedure is to rattle out the fourth and third-placed also-rans and then pan between close-ups of the final two to the throb of the synthesised equivalent of a drum-roll (on Strictly, you could do a strip the willow in the time it takes to put us out of our misery).

But kids, consider this for a cliffhanger ... in OppKnock's heyday you had to wait a whole week for the result. You voted for your favourite act on a postcard, or, if you preferred, on the back of a stuck-down envelope. Alas, in the same way that today's kids are probably forbidden to run up the phone bill, I was never allowed to waste a perfectly good envelope.

All that came after the weekly "just for fun" studio vote, using the highly-scientific measure of a clapometer, which purported to measure the decibels of the audience's applause. You couldn't do that with the representatives of the Great British Public who attend today's shows. Simon Cowell could send the apparatus into meltdown just by undoing a second shirt button.

OppKnocks began its life as a radio programme, but really took off when it switched to TV in the 1960s, gaining viewing figures of around 18 million. The Post Office must have loved that show; just consider all those thrupenny stamps purchased in order to vote for the likes of Les Dawson, Peters and Lee, Frank Carson, Bonnie Langford, Pam Ayres and our own Neil Reid and Lena Zavaroni.

So, good luck Steve; but you'll be fine. My vote, by the way, is in the post.