I’m honestly not one to blow my own trumpet, gentle reader, but you can’t deny that I have form in spotting top talent before everyone else realises. In the world of contemporary dance I said in 2011 that the young Liam Riddick would become The Next Big Thing and blow me down he wins Best Male Dancer at the National Dance Awards for 2017. In 2014 I highlighted a young chap in Matthew Bourne’s Lord of the Flies who would go far by the name of Layton Williams, and look where he is today. And back in 2017 I saw this guy twice supporting big acts – Johnny Vegas in Leicester, and Tez Ilyas in Northampton. I even awarded him the Chrisparkle Award for Best Standup in 2017 (shared jointly with Tez). His name? Guz Khan. And now the man is selling out huge theatres to massive crowds of appreciative fans. He owes it all to me, frankly.

But first, a support act. For the first twenty minutes of the show we were entertained by Kat B – a performer new to me, who seems to have done everything from DJ-ing to choreography, acting to presenting, panto performer and – as we saw in Milton Keynes – even a spot of stand-up too. He has a very energetic presence, using the full width of the stage to tell his stories. I say “tell” – that’s not really the right word, it’s more “enact”. His material probably consisted of no more than three short routines; the luring of a young man into a sexually charged bedroom, the awful moment when you have a pressing need for the toilet, and a girl coming home after a night on the town with her mates. But he performs them with such engaging vigour and visceral connection that it’s impossible not to be won over by him. And we were all able to help him record a nice video for his mum to let him know he had a good night out.

But all focus was on The Main Man. Guz cuts a lovable, if mildly eccentric, figure on stage; a big, formidable fellow, inevitably wearing something extraordinary with mysterious flamboyant flair, sporting a thickly lush beard and the most expressive eyes in the business. If they could speak, what tales those eyes could tell. Shock, ridicule, affection, fury – so many emotions lurch out at you from those eyes; he’s truly mastered the art of eloquence through expression. And nowhere is that seen better than when he’s talking to the people in the front row, creating pretend back stories for them, such as with Omar, selling weed in the car park, who had to travel all the way to Luton to find Shama, the woman of his dreams; or Emily and mum Jackie from Cambridge, who are infuriated by cyclists. Guz is so good at encouraging participation from his audiences only to tease them mercilessly afterwards – but it’s all so good-natured that no one could ever be offended.

I doubt whether any other entertainer has done as much to integrate Pakistani and white British culture as Guz. He’s fascinated by how people of all races and religions mix in one big melting pot, always tapping on the comic potential of how we’re all human together. Included in his current show are his pride at how he’s helped create a daughter who can look after herself when she’s picked on – much to the disapproval of his wife and her school; his observations that even he is probably 2% racist and how we’re almost all guilty of the same thing; and his reflections on his wider family and how they all get on – or not.

He is particularly strong with his accounts of what his four children get up to; his favourites, Baby Girl – strong willed and admirable – and Lispy – thick but endearing –  and the other two, whom he characterises as nameless insufferable little prigs, which is hilarious. Everything he says is recognisable by and relatable to everyone, all enhanced by his extraordinary communication skills, which must have come from his earlier career as a teacher. And above all, it’s all very, very funny.

This current leg of his tour started at the beginning of January and goes on until early March but almost all the shows are sold out or have very few seats left. It’s not often that you can describe someone’s rise to success as meteoric, but I think this is one such case.