NOT being an avid lover of musicals and, being a keen football fan, my journey along to The Grand on Monday (yes the night of the big England match) to watch Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat was as the proverbial schoolboy's journey to school... slow and unwilling.

The cast weren't to know this of course and so, I presume, put in no special effort on my part to ensure that I forgot all about the football and enjoy the show... notwithstanding this 'oversight', whatever it is they did, worked, as I witnessed (and thoroughly enjoyed) a first-class performance of one of the country's favourite musicals. For those who don't know (me and perhaps three others in the UK) Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber's offering tells the Old Testament tale of Joseph, one of a dozen sons sired by Jacob, who is, at first, loathed by his brothers and loved, nay favoured, by his father - who is sold into slavery by his siblings and is eventually emancipated and exalted in Egypt, the land of his his people's sworn enemies. The eventual reconciliation displays a forgiveness which is of course, the moral of the tale.

This production was everything you could hope for... a solid performance of all the numbers with excellent vocals supported by an able band. And the Grand is such a splendid venue for shows like this... big enough to handle a dazzling spectacle like Joseph and yet intimate enough for the audience to really enjoy every nuance of the stars' performances.

Joseph was played with conviction and wit by Andrew Derbyshire, the narrator Amanda Claire maintained the pace and verve of the show with an accomplished effort and Jacob (Steve Varnom) possessed a voice I could have listened to all night. The lighting and choreography were clever and subtle (some productions are a bit OTT aren't they?) but the thing that struck me most was style and wit the cast put into all their performances which had an audience (obviously more familiar with the show's set-pieces than I) dancing with delight.

I particularly enjoyed the Paris setting for Those Canaan Days complete with the Blackpool Tower (?) on the backdrop and the faux-Egyptian dancing by the entire cast was all good knockabout fun.

Yes, they were winning me over, damn it... so much so that I even enjoyed the Pharaoh in Elvis mode, yes you guessed it... I'm not a fan of the 'king of rock 'n' roll either.

By the end of the night I was up on my feet with everyone else and, instead of bellowing 'Come on England', I found myself singing 'Any dream will do'... I couldn't help it, the exuberance of the entire cast was fabulously infectious... great fun.

Get to see it if you can and, if you miss it this time round, catch it next time.

A perfect night's entertainment and I still had the video of the match to look forward when I got home.... great.

But, having purposefully avoided all night any contact with anyone likely to know the score, I was undone by an aging blue-rinsed lady as she tottered, pink-faced, down the stairs of this lovely old theatre... 'Four-two' she squealed in a croaky whoop... 'I b****y love that Wayne Rooney'... ah well, you can't have everything.