I grew up in the same area of Birmingham as Ozzy Osbourne - watching him go from pariah to Patron Saint made him my hero

Growing up in the 1980s and frequenting the pubs he used to in 1990s, Ozzy was never far away in a conversation. I've seen him go from bat-eating drug embarrassment to everyone's favourite rock star beloved by royalty in my lifetime.

The local anecdotes were legend about young Ozzy, who lived longer outside his hometown than he did inside it but never, ever lost that beautiful Brummie accent or stopped supporting the Villa.

The Crown and Cushion in Perry Barr must have held 1,000 people the amount of fellas who told me they were there the night John as he was known then got banned for trying to glass someone. 

Same goes for the night he smashed up the Aston Hotel, and The Crown where Black Sabbath played their first gig must have been a stadium the amount of people who swore blind they were there, the pictures tell a different story though.

But, pub myths and legends only remain on the tip of people's tongues if that person stays relevant. And he always was in Witton, Birchfield and Perry Barr as people were proud of Black Sabbath. They invented a genre of music in heavy metal which although looked down upon by purists sold hundreds of millions of records across the world. 

So is it any wonder, every Tom, Dick and Harriet had a story to tell about the Prince of Darkness. 

Any association to a megastar is better than nothing, and over the years I've met the blokes who claims to be the person who took the call at the brewery from Los Angeles when the Brummie boys abroad got bored of champagne and wanted to import some Banks's Mild. The woman who gave Ozzy his first upper pill and about five guitarists, who should have been in Black Sabbath but instead are waiting on their Giro every week. And someone who proudly claimed to have been burgled by the wayward teenager destined for more riches than he could have dreamed of. 

And the next-door neighbour who reckoned he told Ozzy to' start singing when he heard him belting out The Beatles in the shower.

One person who I knew was telling the truth was Black Sabbath's first manager Jim Simpson, just the twinkle in his eye when he mentioned Ozzy, despite being replaced by the band as they made it massive, spoke volumes about the singer who the band would sack, rehire, and repeat over the years.

After his energy was directed into music, his stardom rocketed. One of the best frontmen rock has produced backed by the songwriting of Geezer Butler and the guitar genius of Tony Iommi, Black Sabbath's albums became best sellers in the 1970s without the help of Top of the Pops and radio play. 

The people made them stars, the people wanted harder rock inspired by the factory sounds of Brum, and so' did America. They conquered the states in a way more successful British bands could only dream of. Then the world.

The different accents that could be heard around Villa Park before his final gig was testament to the global appeal of Ozzy. 

Brummies were proud of Ozzy when the rest of the world saw him as an embarrassment, so what if he bit the head off a bat, who cares if he urinated over The Alamo, pictured with a massive big of cocaine, big deal, or failing another stint in rehab, ah, he will succeed one day. He was Ozzy, he was ours. 

We did not laugh when he fell off a quad bike, we were terrified our crazy mate's life could be cut short. Though he led a life of excess, he was always there. Always proof working class talented people can make it big, that an inner city Brummie talent could break through the outer circle bus route.

Even so, the prospect of a tram being named after him was a far way off in the 1980s and 1990s, but what made the world fall in love with Ozzy was when he let cameras into his home. 

The MTV series chronicling he and his families life became must-watch TV, and at the centre was an often bemused Brummie living a life in Los Angeles he still had not got to grips with after decades being in the spotlight. 

 I missed him on various occasions by minutes, but they say never meet your heroes, and after all I knew him from the Gogglebox.

Just like heavy metal Ozzy was there at the start of another cultural phenomenon - reality TV. It is easy to forget what a ground-breaking show. That was the reason he was asked to perform at Buckingham Palace, not because Prince William picked up a copy of Paranoid on Windsor High Street. 

Ozzy was Birmingham's most famous son, so when I went on a speaking tour of New York in 2005 about famous people from West Midlands, I always ended with an impression of Ozzy shouting: "Sharrrrronnnnn."

And everyone in the audience, no matter how old or young, knew who I was on about. The stuff about starting the industrial revolution went over their heads, Ozzy didn't. Nor did the mention of his wife. 

And there can be no doubt he would not have made it to 76-years-old without his steadfast wife by his side. 

I was outside Villa Park for his comeback, in Witton he would not have recognised from his youth, but I heard his last song waft over the streets of Brum.

And thought, thanks Ozzy, thanks for everything.