IT’S been a journey, so the saying goes.

One that’s taken the three remaining contestants from the room auditions all the way to this weekend’s showdown at Wembley Arena, via the second-stage tryouts in front of a live audience at Wembley Arena and bootcamp.

A rich and varied path they’ve travelled to the X Factor final, at least before getting into their Battle Buses anyway (worst Bullseye prize ever).

Yet, as much as I have slated it, and as hard as Strictly Come Dancing has pummelled it this year, one irrefutable fact stands out probably more than any.

Series 11 isn’t the worst ever.

It’s not even in the bottom three.

And for that we can thank the great Stevi Ritchie, the return of the even greater Brian Friedman and, to a lesser extent, Simon Cowell, back on the UK show where he belongs.

Creative genius Friedman had the vision, Ritchie the showman delivery and Cowell the courage and understanding of X Factor just to let them get on with the madness in his name every Saturday night while it lasted.

They have made the show fun again following the lean Gary Barlow years.

Mel B’s take-no-prisoners approach has also added a new dimension to the panel.

Lee Nelson stage-bombing Stereo Kicks’ You Are Not Alone gave X Factor its egg-throwing Britain’s Got Talent viola player moment.

And special mention goes to the Only The Young! bloke in the audience shouting their name on the results show, a full 24-hours after their elimination.

That’s enough praise though, don’t you think?

Half the judges need replacing.

Louis Walsh is an irrelevant caricature who has done little more than sabotage his own acts, while Cheryl has said nothing of note these last 10 weeks, aside from mistaking X Factor for The Apprentice by calling it “the process” and casually dropping into conversation that she attended a charity bash.

All four are guilty of relaxing into clichés – even Cowell resorting to the oldest trick in the book: “I didn’t like it... (milk the boos)... I loved it!”

The heavy reliance on his own Syco record label acts in the guest slots is even more irksome than making contestants part of cynically blatant plugs for the sponsor’s TV service.

And they really missed a trick last weekend when none of the singers, during the Christmas theme, chose Killing In The Name by Rage Against The Machine.

Though Cowell did tell Fleur East after her rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You: “It made me think of Christmas.”

It was her second song, of course, that’s still reverberating around the pop world, making X Factor a force that it has failed to be since the Leona Lewis year.

So good was Fleur’s performance of Mark Ronson’s Uptown Funk that he was forced to release it five weeks early.

It was an extraordinary TV moment that seems to have assured her victory, a shame because Andrea Faustini is by far the most naturally gifted singer of the series.

As for the rest, including “rock god” Ben Haenow who, to be fair to him, is Chris Moyles after a pressure wash, Dame Cheryl had the right advice: “Sing like nobody’s listening, dance like nobody’s watching.”

Because once the X Factor tour’s done, they had better get used to it.

Spudulikes

Foggy’s joy at winning I’m A Celebrity’s fancy stick and wreath.

The genuine nail-biting thrill you can only get from two blokes picking balls out of a plastic bucket, BBC2’s FA Cup Third Round Draw.

Royal Variety Performance comic Rob Woodward. Plus maestro Dave Arch welcoming Sarah Millican to the stage with an apparent musical request – Go West.

The Apprentice’s Roisin pitching her Tea Pot cheesecakes to Waitrose: “The name itself, Tea Pot, it’s a play on ‘teapot’.”

A method-acting This Morning producer in a snowman outfit emerging from behind a Christmas tree, like Happy Mondays’ dancer Bez, to spook “the woman with a fear of festive costumes”.

And the gloriously misrepresentative road sign to The Naked Village’s More4 nudist colony: “Concealed entrance.”

Spuduhates

The BBC succumbing to the John Lewis effect by unveiling its Christmas logos too early.

The Missing’s “embarassing” English subtitles.

Corrie losing itself in drugs and depression.

BBC1 assuming it has the right to hold the BBC Music Awards when it doesn’t even have a charts show.

EastEnders making Peter Beale a window-punching cokehead overnight.

ITV2’s Educating Joey Essex: A Winter Essex-Pedition undoing all its good work “sending Joey to the end of the Earth” by bringing him home again.

And Frozen’s Let It Go singer Idina Menzel, replacing Alex Jones for one link to a VT, completely fluffing her line: “Here’s the story of a tightrope. Walking miner from... oh. Of a tightrope-walking miner from Yorkshire.” Well done, Idina. Can you start 7pm Monday?