IF it’s Monday or Tuesday night as you read this, then you’re as big a loser as I am – no offence, like. Namely because we’re not sitting in the Manchester Apollo watching Chris Rock. There may be other reasons, but that’ll be the main one we’ll concentrate on for now.

It’s a regrettable oversight and probably, already, a mere seven days in, the missed opportunity of the comedy year. I’ve had a soft spot for Chris Rock ever since I emailed a transcript of one of his most well known routines to a friend from my then work address and didn’t get immediately sacked. If it wasn’t for the quotation marks around some of the more liberal uses of the vernacular I’d probably never have worked again.

There’s been a raft of really interesting interviews with Rock in the national press over the last few days (here, here, and here for starters) and they only make it more chronically obvious what an untouchable talent is in our literal North Westerly midst for two days only and that being daft enough to miss his debut UK tour was a shameful, shameful mistake. Oh well. There’s always Youtube...

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