Ozzy and me: 'bourne to be wild

Russell Blackstock's door was stoved in by a drunken Ozzy Osbourne.

It was about 4am on a cold Christmas morning in London when I was woken by what sounded like my hotel room door being ripped off its hinges.

After a long day and night drinking with friends, it took me a few moments to come to.

It was then I became aware of a shadowy figure swaying in the corridor outside, and a spindly set of fingers was searching for the light switch.

Next minute I found myself staring into the bloodshot eyes of a very famous face - rock wildman Ozzy Osbourne.

He was clearly very drunk and had a large, red fire extinguisher tucked under his left arm.

He'd used the thing to break down the door - a bit like how the police would use a battering ram on a drugs raid.

After the initial surprise at seeing the godfather of heavy metal standing in my room, I was even more taken aback by Ozzy's unusual greeting.

"I'm very sorry to trouble you at this time of night, mate....but do you mind if I use your phone?" he slurred.

It was the early 80s and Osbourne was at the height of his famously debauched and bizarre lifestyle.

I didn't quite know what to say or do other than hand him the bedside phone and mutter: "sure pal, be my guest".

Without another word, he made himself comfortable on the floor at the foot of the bed and started dialing a number.

"Sharon, is that you?" is all I can recall him saying into the handset before I fell back asleep.

I had no idea Ozzy was calling his wife in Los Angeles - I later found out he was on the phone for several hours.

When I woke up later that morning I wondered if the whole episode had been a dream.

But the door was clearly busted and a fire extinguisher was abandoned on the floor. And not only was the phone lying off the hook at the end of the bed - there was an arc of about a dozen or so deep cigarette burns on the carpet, where someone had been sitting and had stubbed out their butts.

Fortunately, the hotel management were very understanding ... it turned out they'd dealt with Ozzy before. He was a regular guest but had simply forgotten which room he was in, I was told.

A bill for several hundred pounds was dispatched to Osbourne's agent to cover the damage, and the not inconsiderable international phone bill.

A few days later a cheque arrived in return, along with a note of apology to the hotel.

I remember it ended with the words: "Sorry once again for all the inconvenience, but that was actually a cheap night out for Ozzy."

Class. I wish I had kept it and had it framed.