The most sublime sporting quote of all time? Ian Rush's complaint when he found it impossible to settle in Italy, on or off the pitch, after he moved from Liverpool to Juventus: "It's like playing in another country," he gasped despairingly. Magnificent.

Anyway, Rushie came to mind this week when I read about the trials and tribulations of a young Irish footballer in England.

Quite honestly, I haven't the heart to name the fella, he has enough troubles as it is. Let's just say he got the chance of a lifetime last season precisely at a point when it must have dawned on him that his career was going nowhere fast.

A second division club plucked him from the reserves at a premiership club where he had wallowed for some time and, in truth, was destined to stay until his contract ran out.

So he was made a first-team regular, started off well and received the odd glowing report or two from his manager. All was well. Goodbye to a life of playing reserve team football in eerily empty grounds. At last, the 21-year-old had an opportunity to show his worth.

But. Last week, eight months after his arrival, his contract was terminated by mutual consent, with his manager saying: "He hadn't fulfilled his potential, had failed to give 100 per cent to the club, which is unacceptable." Now? He's in talks with a non-league club, based in London.

The story? He initially refused to move from London, the place of his birth, when he joined his new club . . . which is roughly one hour away by train. The club wasn't overly happy about this, but didn't insist he move.

But then he was late for training. And late again. And again. And again. So they politely suggested he move closer to his new place of employment. He did, eventually, but couldn't settle - "homesickness" was mentioned in some of last week's reports.

Homesickness? God, how I laughed when I discussed this lad with a pal last week. "And he was only an hour from home," I hooted. But then my "pal" kindly reminded me of the time I emigrated to Waterford when an irresistible career opportunity presented itself - and returned home the same evening because I missed my dog.

"And the time you were in New York? You walked into an Irish pub in Queens - the kind of place you would have giggled at before - and when you heard Paddy Reilly singing the Fields of Athenry on the jukebox you rang Aer Lingus to see if they'd any earlier flights home." And? "You'd been in New York for a fortnight and only had six weeks to go."

"It gets better," said my ex-pal. Shut the blazes up. "Remember the time you came over all emotional when you spotted a green Dublin bus after you'd been away?" Yeah? "You'd been in Galway for the weekend." Mmm - true.

And mmm, fair point. Which is why, to be perfectly honest, I marvelled at Irish under-18 international Ben Burgess' acceptance of the decision of his club, Blackburn Rovers, to send him on a year's loan to . . . Australian side Northern Spirit. Not exactly handy to his digs in the north-west English town.

True, Irish youth boss Brian Kerr wasn't hugely impressed with the decision, but look at it this way: Not only will young Ben have to cope with homesickness, he also faces the prospect of bumping into one of those Craic Down Under stars from Network Two. Yikes. Cue the music from the shower scene in Psycho.

So I'm in no position to chuckle at the above unnamed young Irish footballer - or Joey Beauchamp, for that matter. He's the fella who secured a multi-zillion-pound transfer to West Ham a few years back, but left after four months because he was homesick for . . . Venezuela? Tibet? No, no: Oxford.

And what about Robbie Keane at Inter Milan? I watched him on Channel 4 recently, and even though he looked perfectly happy in his continental surroundings, I wanted to board a flight for Milan there and then and bring him home. Well, back to Coventry at least.

Back in the Stone Age (the 1980s to those of ye scitters born since then), Luther Blissett moved from Watford to AC Milan and enjoyed the experience very nearly as much as Rushie revelled in his time in Turin.

"No matter how much money you have, you just can't buy Rice Krispies anywhere in Italy," said Luthie, not long before he boarded a flight for Luton Airport.

Yes, yes, the young lad we started talking about has probably blown it. And if Rushie's "another country" quote is the funniest, "I coulda been a contender" is the saddest and most poignant of all.

"Fortune knocks but once, but misfortune has much more patience," as the other old quote goes.

So, think of that young Irish lad and hope with all your heart that his inability to take his chance in the football world doesn't haunt him for the rest of his life.

But then again, why should it? There is, after all, more to life than kicking a spherical lump of leather. Isn't there?