THE passing of Terry Wogan feels like the end of an era for the BBC – and British broadcasting in general.

His blend of rambling Irish whimsy, self-deprecating humour and a keen grasp of popular culture made Wogan the nation’s best-loved broadcaster for more than 30 years.

At times it seemed as if Wogan was the BBC, so high was his profile across the corporation, and his ubiquity made him a target for largely good-natured humour by the likes of The Goodies.

But Wogan was happy with his lot. He happily took it all on the chin in the name of maintaining his celebrity. When he left the Radio 2 breakfast slot for the second (and final) time in 2009, he said: “In three or four weeks people will be saying “Who was that Irish chap?” If you’re not on, you’re forgotten.”

Of course, Wogan had cause to be grateful to the BBC for plucking him from a Dublin recording studio where he read the news and making him a broadcasting star.

But the Corporation has just as much cause to be thankful for Wogan.

Who else could have transformed the Eurovision song contest into a worthless joke into must-see TV with his amusing – and sometimes caustic – commentary?

And how many more millions were raised for BBC Children in Need thanks to Wogan’s gentle, but persistent, wheedling of the audience watching at home? He was one of the founders and hosted the telethon for two decades.

Although he did not take part in last November’s event, due to illness, his loss will be felt all the greater when Children in Need comes around again in 2016.

The BBC’s search for a successor ended with Chris Evans, but even the immensely talented Evans would never suggest he could fill Wogan’s shoes. No one ever will.

As Ken Bruce said moments after Wogan’s final breakfast show: “We will never see his like again.”