Wazza thrives on home comforts

WELCOME home from La La Land, Wazza. They still love you, warts and all.

The most celebrated refugee from Steve McClaren's Theatre of the Absurd was revealingly reluctant to leave the Theatre of Dreams. Last off the pitch, Wayne Rooney did a languid lap of honour before the remnants of a record Premiership crowd. He was laughing, engrossed in an animated conversation with John O'Shea. He had a pounds 200,000 10-carat diamond ring to deliver to Coleen's 21st birthday bash - an event likely to be a far cry from a Saturday night kicking a ball against the wall of a Croxteth chippie.

Such is life for football's new aristocrats. It brought to mind a banner, unveiled before the kickoff, commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Busby Babes. "Youth, Courage, Success" it read. If only it were that simple. Given the week he had endured, we half expected Rooney's face, a gargoyle of frustration in Tel Aviv and Barcelona, to be hidden by a hoodie.

But he was exposed and vulnerable. The world was ready to condemn. No change there then. Rooney will never be Hugh Grant. No matter how slick the marketing campaign, Kevin the Bolshie Teenager is always lurking in the background, ready to pounce. But, back in familiar surroundings, Rooney seemed eager and engaged.

He applauded a Wes Brown tackle and a Cristiano Ronaldo trick. He even shared a joke with referee Chris Foy. Advertisement When he and Blackburn captain Ryan Nelson attempted to kick lumps out of each other they called it a draw and respectfully touched fists like veteran boxers. Respect. That, in a single word, is the key to our most naturally talented footballer since Gazza. Blackburn wound him up more subtly than the pub players of Andorra, but he didn't bite. Their gamesmanship is practised, professional, expected. It is almost an art form. Rooney teetered on the edge only once, when he pushed Mark Bowen, Blackburn's assistant manager, in the chest as he sought to retrieve the ball and take a quick throw.

The human chemistry may not be stable, but Rooney knows where he stands with Sir Alex. The game's most successful manager is not the cartoon ogre his detractors suggest. It takes more than a volcanic temper and a cutting tongue to exert his type of influence. His passion is infectious. His instinctive protection of his players is appreciated. It is pointless to expect McClaren to command such respect. Fergie will look beyond the superficial evidence of Rooney missing two gilt-edged first-half chances. He lurked on the shoulder of the last defender, and posed a sustained threat.

Rooney is like a sleek sedan misfiring. All it needs is a slight tweak. No reason to keep it in the garage. As for the fans, they will continue to identify with the rawness of his character, rather than the lunacies of a celebrity lifestyle they cannot comprehend. Wazza, just remember what got you there.