It would be disingenuous to suggest that Wayne Rooney is an intellectual icon or fashion guru. He most certainly is not. If he weren’t a wonderful footballer, he would be another anonymous young figure scratching a living in an inner-city council estate in the UK.

His persona, that of a tough young lad literally fighting his way out of the ghetto, is not a brand concocted by a trendy Soho branding agency. It is real, and Wayne Rooney is 100 per cent real.

For me, he is the finest player of his generation, an unlikely genius. George Best was an intelligent human being who was a wonderful player. Rooney is unintelligent (some people use different phrases) but equally as brilliant as Best.

Watching the latest Manchester United genius is like reading the work of Edward Bunker, the brilliant writer who carved his creative skills in the toughest prisons of the USA. With Rooney (and Bunker) there is no compromise, a raw talent prone to violent mood swings. But watching the young talent on TV against Wigan made me think of Bunker’s first novel, No Beast So Fierce, the words pouring from a heart of fire and head of brilliant creativity.

Rooney has been under fire lately, apparently he has been off-form, not sharp, playing badly. At Wigan, he didn’t just answer his critics, he pounded them into submission with a display of football virtuosity. Sublime passing, strong running on and off the ball, a workrate equivalent to two night shifts in one, and a touch, turn and thunderous shot onto the bar worthy of any great player of any generation.

Sure, he doesn’t look the part with a belly full of what looks like late-night kebabs and cheap lager, but he plays in a style which is simply irresistible.

And you have to take into account the physical aspect of the game in England. It's not the Copacabana here; there is no time for flicks and tricks. As soon as a player receives the ball he is clattered by juggernauts posing as footballers and the HGVs don’t come much bigger than those trundling out of Wigan. So for a player to be able to thread passes, hold the ball, nutmeg and run and shoot on the turn is a feat not to be underrated.

I don’t like Rooney’s uncivilised behaviour and he has deservedly been sent off and reprimanded. But I do like his commitment, the way he fights for every ball, the way he earns his wealth.

You won’t find Rooney strutting round the pitch with his head down waiting to pick up a massive cheque. This is where Sir Alex Ferguson comes into his own, the finest man manager in football and himself a product of the rags-to-riches conveyor belt that has produced so many of our top players.

So let’s have less of the criticism and more of the plaudits for a talent second to none. After all, we don’t have too much else to shout about in England these days.