Once upon a time, John Lennon caused pandemonium by boasting that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus Christ. But that was back in the old days when Jesus Christ was somebody. Today, the fab four would be up against much more formidable competition in the fame game, from the likes of, say, the Dalai Lama or Beavis and Butthead.

Garth Brooks, however, is in a different league altogether. Already a superstar, he came to Ireland last week and became a superstar. He was canonised, lionised and officially registered as a national hero. He became so famous, in fact, that Albert Reynolds almost managed to pronounce his name correctly (he called him Gareth which for An Taoiseach, let's face it, wasn't bad).

Anyone who heard the screams of the crowd – Gaaaaaaarth! - when he walked onstage at The Point or felt the waves of thunderous appreciation that smashed the walls after every song will be in no doubt about the intensity with which he is revered here. “With the reaction I've gotten in this country,” said Brooks himself at one point, “I feel that, at last, I've arrived.”