The sign-off to those who faithfully woke up with him every morning was in his customary, self-deprecating style. "It touches me deeply that I have played a part in your lives for generations: the mothers and fathers who tell me how they force their children to listen to me in the morning, just as they were forced by their parents." After recent reshuffling of more senior names in favour of younger ones at BBC Radio 1, it may not have been exactly news to the listeners he dubbed TOGs (Terry's Old Geezers) that after 16 successful years, the presenter of BBC Radio 2's breakfast show, Wake Up To Wogan, was about to 'turn into Chris Evans'.

But the decision, says the 71 year old presenter, was all his, in quit-when-you're-ahead mode ? just as when he bowed out last year, after 36 years as commentator on The Eurovision Song Contest, a show he called a "triumph of appalling taste".

Terry Wogan knows where his talents lie and has never harboured Paxman-like pretensions: "People make a decision: they want news or music or wall-to-wall rubbish. In my case, it's wall-to-wall rubbish. I make it up as I go along." As for his staying power, he says people confuse "longevity with merit. Look at Cliff Richard."

To critics and fans alike, Wogan is Auntie Beeb's most avuncular frontman, but with an endless supply of humorously sarcastic barbs. It was as much for that very pass-remarkable commentary, rather than discovering the best song in Europe, that many viewers tuned into the Eurovision – although it nearly caused a diplomatic fall-out between Denmark and Britain in 2001 when he described the Danish hosts as looking like "Doctor Death and The Tooth Fairy". Wogan claims however that unlike the desire to be 'edgy' among certain other presenters, he understands that line between "sending something up and having fun, and being cruel".

As a multi-award winning radio and tv personality, and recipient of an honorary OBE, it's debatable that if the Limerick born Sir Terry had remained in his first job after college he'd have been similarly lauded these days: he was a banker for three years. After the family moved to live in Dublin when he was 15, Wogan attended Belvedere College and on graduation in 1956, got a job at the Bank of Ireland, separating "half crowns from two bob bits". Of his native city, he still says "Limerick never left me". But of his formative years spent there, Wogan recalls Limerick was "cursed" with religion. His parents "knew it was all a lot of rubbish", he recalled in The Observer in 2004 . After a childhood spent "being brainwashed into believing", he parted company with the church at 17, and claims that was when "my whole life changed." At 21, his life changed again when he landed a job with RTE as a junior newsreader and announcer.

Two years on, he found his eventual niche with a move to light entertainment, presenting the quiz show Jackpot. When it was dropped in 1967, an increasingly confident Wogan approached the BBC and began working on Late Night Extra for the newly launched Radio 1, commuting regularly between Dublin and London. His stint doing holiday cover on Jimmy Young's morning radio show led to more regular work, and by 1972 he was secure enough with the Beeb to move permanently to London. He had already met and married Helen Joyce, a former house model for Balmain, by that stage. After over 40 years of marriage, their domestic life remains harmonious, Wogan has said. "We're careful of each other. We never shout at each other for more than 10 seconds – and then we regret it. The things we argue about are small and inconsequential, like 'Where are me socks?'"

The couple were both virgins on their wedding night, he told The Observer in 2004. "Romance is predicated on the non-fulfilment of the sexual urge. And the frisson of non-fulfilment is probably more exciting than sex. I'd be hopeless nowadays. Things are too confrontational. I could never take to promiscuity. I'm too fastidious."

Not surprisingly, he has no time for the more excessive forms of reality TV. "They can only go one way with that. It's got seamier and seamier. Eventually, we'll end up with soft porn." His move to television interviewing in the late '70s led to a long career as a chat show host on the eponymous Wogan, as well as presenting game shows like Blankety Blank. An early chat show guest was Irish film censor Frank Hall, who suggested to Wogan he had sold out on his Irish heritage by working for British television. He developed a skill at disguising his irritation at prickly guests from there on in, from those who were obviously on drugs and were "too far over the top from having taken something up their nose" to coping with a drunken, swearing George Best (who kissed fellow guest Omar Sharif), an un-surprisingly grumpy Prince Phillip, and an uncommunicative David Bowie who he wanted to throttle: "I didn't hit him. But it came close."

Soon to step away from early morning mike, and no longer be at the mercy of a 5.30am alarm, his concerns, expressed several years back when contemplating retirement, are closer to home. Helen has "developed a social life all her own" during the years her husband has been waking up with 8million others. "I don't think she'll welcome my stopping at home." But with talk of a brand new primetime weekend slot on Radio 2 it looks like the man who acquainted English listeners with the words 'eejit' and 'banjaxed' will still be making it up as he goes along for another while yet...

Curriculum Vitae

Born: Limerick 1938
Educated: Crescent College, Limerick; Belvedere College, Dublin
Career: Bank of Ireland (1956- 59); until 1967, RTE as announcer, newsreader, DJ and game show host; Over 40 years at the BBC including commentary for Eurovision Song Contest 1971-2008; Wogan; Come Dancing; Blankety Blank, Celebrity Squares, New Faces.
Married: Helen Joyce (1965); (first child Vanessa died shortly after birth); Alan (1967); Mark (1970), and Katherine (1972)
In the news: Stepping down from Radio 2 Wake Up To Wogan after 16 years