SAVED by an ageing Italian and the buy of the season. By which I mean the survival of Blackburn Rovers. Not one to gamble, I had bet against Rovers being relegated and if they did I would run around the building in my birthday suit.

After losing at home to Leeds United, things were looking dire for Graeme Souness and even more so for me. Just when I was deciding to head off for the summer to Bhowal (my native village back in Pakistan), Rovers pulled it off with three straight wins.

Thank you Mr Souness. Next time don't make us sweat so much.

I think we should have an award for the town's laziest person.

I admit I am lazy. I don't like getting up to answer the phone and whoever invented the television remote was a genius.

Even bingo doesn't seem to have the appeal it used to. The whole idea of waiting for my numbers to be called out just makes me angry these days. Not that I ever played it in the first place because I was too lazy to go to the hall. I also couldn't find anyone who wanted to go with me.

How come no-one I know plays bingo? I might just give it a go. Any offers?

But everything and everyone pales into insignificance compared to the bloke I saw just this week.

It was a hot spring afternoon and whilst driving around checking the talent out (I'm a scout for film production company) I noticed one gentleman who should have his picture printed next to the word 'Lazy' in the dictionary.

In fact he should have something on the back of his car saying this guy just can't be bothered so don't even ask.

This geezer (if that word is still used in these parts) wanted to post a letter in the postbox on Preston New Road, Blackburn. Instead of parking his Carina up and getting out and walking the three steps around the car to the post box he swung his car on to the pavement.

At this point he realised he couldn't reach the postbox from his open window.

It took him a minute or so to figure out the problem but our man wasn't giving up that easily.

He reversed the car and then parked it closer to the pillar box. Still no luck. By this stage I was feeling sorry for him and felt like getting out of my car and walking over and giving him a hand. Maybe he was having trouble walking or was on crutches.

The door to his car was open by now so he decided for one final stretch as far as he could. Still too far.

Seconds later he gave up and leapt out of the motor and posted the letter!