Andy Richardson: National treasure is Strictly a good Ed

The man the public loved to hate has become a national treasure. Ed 'Great Balls Of Fire' Balls enjoyed the most remarkable transformation in 2016 when he went from Zero to Hero. And he did it by accepting the simplest of challenges: he wasn't afraid to fail.

Ed's appearances on Strictly Come Dancing became a highlight of the nation's Saturday nights. And when he failed to make the cut, Twitter went into meltdown and declared that Strictly was rubbish without him. Twitter was right. It was. Ed was the highlight in the Class of '16.

Ed was formerly Gordon Brown's fixer. He was the Westminster bruiser with a reputation for being a political bully. Parodied and pilloried, Ed was the man everyone loved to poke fun at: the boffin economist whose grasp of normal stuff was so awry that he once Tweeted his own name, like a primary school entrant, then didn't know how to delete it.

What's that thing about really clever people having no common sense? Satirists loved 'Ed Balls Twitter' so much that they created Ed Balls Day, which is now celebrated every April 28.

Ed's fall from grace at the 2015 General Election was so spectacular that it was described as a 'Michael Portillo' moment, in memory of another politico who hit the ground like a heavyweight flunky under the cosh.

So what's a man who would have been Labour leader and who wanted to be Prime Minister to do when he finds himself out of work?

Simple. Dance it off. Uh oh.

Ed took the Strictly shilling, in much the same way Anne Widdicombe and John Sergeant had in previous years. He gamely agreed to be the 2016 stooge. His old boss, Gordon Brown, told him not to do it, reckoning Ed would look like a clown. But he deviated from the script. And rather than making a fool of himself, he made himself cool. Rather than being humiliated, he was admired. Rather than being a figure of derision, he became an inspiration.

The public admired Ed's chutzpah. They admired the fact he wasn't afraid to fail. And while he was never going to match the moves of Danny, Ore or the beautiful Louise Redknapp, he endeared himself to the public. He suddenly became something that no politician ever is: human.

In the flesh, Ed is charming and polite. With brilliant blue eyes, a jumper that's a size too small – it looks like he put back on over Christmas what he lost during Strictly – Balls is a thoroughly pleasant bloke. Remarkable, really, given the opinion the public had of him pre-Strictly. Like Michael Portillo, he's been rehabilitated in the eyes of the masses. He's humble and funny, he doesn't take himself too seriously, his awkwardness is somehow endearing and he compensates for what he lacks in skill by making us laugh. Top bloke.

A week or so ago, when the pro dancers were rehearsing at London's Cecil Sharp House, in Camden, Balls was meeting journalists, joshing with Ore and being spectacularly pleasant to anyone within earshot.

Devoid of the pressures of party politics, he was back to being himself: a decent, middle-aged bloke with a love of football, the ability to laugh at himself and a sense of relief that the pressures of his former life have been shed.

He made jokes about always being the one who fixed supper because his wife, Chair of the Home Affairs Select Committee, Yvette Cooper MP, was too busy fixing the world.

He drew up a dastardly plan for next year's Strictly, suggesting Scottish tyro Nicola Sturgeon should go head to head on the dance floor with Scottish Tory leader Ruth Davidson. Boy oh boy, what a match-up that would be.

He chatted with the professional dancers and PR fixers over lunch, much as he once used to with the Prime Minister.

There was no hiding behind a mobile phone, no diva-ish silliness: Ed was just a regular fella who seemed glad to be out of the house and doing something nice.

Because being on the road with Strictly is precisely that. It's nice. It's Wow. It's Super Massive Brilliant. It is, as the man in the corner, Craig Revel Horwood, might have it: A.May.Zing.

And Ed is smart enough to know it. Next year, another politician/journalist/entertainer will have taken his place as a National Treasure.

So he's surfing the waves now, hoping they bring him gently to shore.

And Ed's grateful to the people who supported him along the way.

So this weekend in Birmingham, he plans to repay that warmth and affection by doing what few politicians ever do: putting a smile on the face of the crowds.