I think some of my friends are just too attached to Blackburn.

This week, I had a friend visit London for the first time in a long time. For most people, it is great chance to finally get out of Lancashire.

Okay, things are fantastic for the most part but everyone needs to head down the M6 every so often.

But not this guy. He rang me several times during the evening and the next morning too. His phone calls usually began with a question about whether anything had happened in the town since he had left.

By midnight this fellow had also pestered other people.

‘Have you rung your wife yet?’ I asked.

‘Yes, she’s stopped taking my calls.’ Nothing happens in this area. I actually know for a fact that if and when the aliens do decide to come they will more or less leave Blackburn and the surrounding areas alone.

Yes, a new give way sign going up or a speed bump may get laid but on the whole we love it here because those things happen very rarely.

Then it dawned on me. If you have lived in Blackburn all your life and have never ever left – leaving the town can be quite traumatic.

Speaking to him on his return I realised he was in fact missing the town. He missed the monotony of it and the stupid road system.

He missed the smell and most of all he missed the fact that he could walk down the street and say hello to several people.

On another note I have to agree with Mr Joey Barton about Wayne Rooney when he said Rooney was not a world class player.

I think we English have a habit of using the word ‘great’ and ‘legendary’ too often when it comes to players who at most ‘average’.

You might as well say Beckham was ‘world class’. He wasn’t because apart from one great free-kick in 2001 and a couple of good crosses he didn’t do anything else special. He looked good when he was doing it, though.

Bobby Charlton. Now, there was a legendary, world-class Englishman.