JANE FRYER: Vernon brought a younger energy (and a fabulous head of hair) to Radio 2

Given the frenzied build-up of good luck messages, interviews, tweets and very robust trolling by Ken Bruce’s ever-loyal fans – about everything from his age, to lack of experience and lustrously full head of hair – it would have been no surprise if Vernon Kay had been a teeny bit nervous for his debut Radio 2 show this morning.

In fact, he was clearly bricking it. Staccato, tense and as twitchy as a fish as he launched off with, ‘Let the adventure begin. Welcome. Welcome on board. Let’s do this!’ and U2’s Beautiful Day.

But it was never going to be an easy start.

Vernon had spent the last month being told by anyone and everyone – including his lorry-driving Dad – what big shoes Ken’s were to fill.

He said himself it was like following Alex Ferguson at Manchester United and the first day of school, all rolled into one.

Bruce pictured in the Global Radio studios ahead of his new show with Greatest Hits Radio

He’d banned wife Tess Daly from coming in to listen and even practised his new commute – at least twice – in case of any hiccups.

Which might explain why he dedicated such a massive chunk of his debut show to reading out motivational messages of support from listeners – ‘We love you, Vernon. You’re going to smash it’ – and pre-recorded shout-outs from everyone at the BBC from Zoe Ball to Scott Mills and Steve Wright to Jeremy Vine.

Soothing for the nerves, but not universally popular. Particularly not on Twitter.

‘Lasted an hour, too self-indulgent!’ tweeted one outraged listener.

But this is after all, day one, so let’s take a breath and focus on the positives.

The music was great – or at least I thought so, though perhaps not everyone loves Kylie, Harry Styles and Rita Ora as much as me.

Certainly not one disgusted listener, who tweeted: ‘After 30 mins it is bloody awful I am turning over to GHRWigan.’

There was even a bit of Doris Day, to mark Vernon’s Mum’s birthday and a smattering of Frank Sinatra, the Rolling Stones and Prince to assuage the anti-ageist brigade.

The Tracks of my Years segment with the wonderful Madness frontman Suggs was a joy. And Vernon’s Vault, a BBC archives slot dipping back into history is a good idea, but didn’t sing today with an awkward segment on the birth of the Grand Theft Auto video game 27 years ago.

Bruce helmed the mid-morning weekday BBC Radio 2 show for a staggering 31 years

Not forgetting, of course, Ten To The Top, a pop quiz in which two contestants square up against each other in the 10.30am slot in the hope of winning a smart speaker. I wonder how on earth they dreamt that up…

Sadly, it didn’t go well for poor Karen, from Shepperton, who told us she works as cabin crew and, as a result, was bombarded with Vernon’s circa 1990s gameshow gags of ‘Doors to manual’, ‘Cross check’ and ‘The chicken or the fish?’

Bet she’s never heard them before. And perhaps, as a result, she scored just five points.

‘I won’t ever be able to live that down,’ she gasps.

Meanwhile, Luke, a keen angler from Sidmouth, snagged 14 points and the speaker and loved it all so much he couldn’t stop cackling with laughter.

For many, I am sure, the longer the show went on, the bigger Ken’s shoes grew.

He was, after all, the God of BBC2 for about 1,000 years. Smooth, professional, unflappable, companionable, a total joy to listen to – until the BBC unceremoniously cut short his notice period. He definitely wouldn’t have chopped Sam Ryder’s new single off at the knees as it crashed into the 10 o’clock news, as Vernon did. Or talked over the opening bars of The Clash’s London Calling. Or launched the poor man’s Pop Pickers four minutes late on day one. Or, one would hope, made it all quite so much about himself.

And he would have spun in his grave before uttering the words: ‘Check out the slap bass on that. That was fu-un-kee!’

Kay played songs by Frank Sinatra, the Rolling Stones and Prince to assuage the anti-ageist brigade

But Ken is gone. That ship has sailed – and, with it, quite a few of his 8.4million listeners.

And yes, Vernon, the professional filler-inner, is cheesy and loud and a bit too bouncy and raw by comparison – like swapping a ride in a leather-clad Daimler for a clattery Jeep with no suspension.

But he’s also surprisingly likeable, a real grafter – as he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen, he’s come a long way since his first job, aged 14, in a banana factory in Bolton. He loves his mum Gladys and still can’t quite believe his luck to have been given the Radio 2’s most prestigious slot, despite never having his own show.

So before we judge, let’s give him a few weeks to bed in and, in the meanwhile, here’s a quick recap of what we’ve learnt about him today.

That he has a strict two-latte daily limit. He’s proud of his roots – he even played a Michael Bolton single specially today to mark his home town. That however often he tells contestants ‘It’s not about me, it’s about you’, he doesn’t necessarily mean it. And that he’s not a patch on King Ken when it comes to smooth professionalism.

But maybe he doesn’t need to be. Because, dare I say it, for all his cheese and clumsy crashing about, Vernon does bring a new, welcome, younger energy – and a fabulous head of hair – to this hallowed turf.

He just needs to settle down a bit, stop shouting, relax and, please, put a lid on all those ‘good luck Vernon we love you’ messages – however famous the sender.