Clear your diary peeps and make time for Tony
It's one of the great pub debates of our time. One that usually rears its head at around 10pm following that third drink.
"Come on then," one of your pals pipes up. "Greatest TV character ever? Call it."
Now, if I was asked to list my top 10 of all time, I'd be well and truly stumped.
There are simply too many great goodies, baddies and uglies out there in tellyland.
Obviously, good ol' Homer Jay Simpson is in the mix, followed by the rather brilliant ensemble of Father Ted Crilly, Malcolm Tucker and Stringer Bell.
Oh! Don't forget Stewie Griffin.
And Gene Hunt.
Aha! What about Alan Partridge?
However, the question on the rickety pub table is "name the greatest ever". The one who stands above all others. The one you'll carry around with you forever more. Like a Chanel 2.55.
For me, that question can be answered instantly.
There's no need to even ponder it because the answer's so blindingly obvious: James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano.
From the second we first saw Tony sitting in the waiting room of Dr Melfi's office, it's been an obsession.
Whenever each boxset was released, I'd go all J.D. Salinger and wouldn't be seen for weeks, eventually emerging from my bedroom blinking at the sun and speaking with a slight New Jersey accent.
Family and friends were bullied into watching it, their ears filled with promises that they too would fall under its spell. And, of course, each and every one of them did.
So it was with a heavy heart that I read a 6am text message nine days ago that read: "Tony Soprano has died!!!!"
At first, I thought it was just one of my late-to-the-party mates finally getting round to watching the epic episode were Tony gets shot and fearing the worst.
But, one quick scan of the web later, and it was confirmed – one of the greatest actors of a generation had passed away. At the grand old age of 51.
Gandolfini was the only option to play Soprano.
Physically, he had the brawn and the bulk so needed for Tony, a monster of a man who devours everything in his path: enemies, lovers, 18oz steaks...
But he also had those melancholic eyes, from which Tony shed tears over his children, his mother, a family of ducklings.
However, so much more than the physical, he possessed the rarest of acting talents.
Gandolfini had a charisma, a presence, a subtlety rarely seen on the screen, especially the small one.
He was the only actor capable of getting the audience to root for a cold-blooded killer who cheated on his wife, was violent to his nearest and dearest and corrupt to his core.
But that's the beauty of The Sopranos. It's not some one-dimensional wise-guy cliché. It's deep, it's dark, it has you laughing one minute, terrified the next.
If you've never seen it, order the complete boxset now and clear your diary for the next three months. You'll be happy that you did.
If you're already a fan, dig out those DVDs and revel in its brilliance once again.
And James Gandolfini was the main reason for that brilliance. He was the heartbeat of The Sopranos. The centre of it all.
Quite simply, he was the boss.
