by NICK WEBSTER, FOXSports.com

The roll call of players who have made a name for themselves worldwide as real hardmen is endless. The best part is that they all have really cool nicknames like 'Chopper' (Ron Harris/Chelsea), 'Bites yer legs' (Norman Hunter/Leeds) and 'Pyscho' (Stuart Pearce/Man City). These players would kick their mothers up into the stands if they were in the way of them and the ball. No quarter asked-none given and no 'sorry mum was that your knee I just shattered'. It's an accepted part of playing football.

Now don't get me wrong, I love the 'Fancy Dan's' with their extravagant skills, but ask any working class fella if they'd rather see a nutmeg or a crunching tackle that knocks the opposition player into next week, and I know what the answer will be.

Nearly every team in the Prem has a player or two whose job is to sort out (kick the crap from) their opposite number. Bowyer, Mills and Batty at Leeds (three very nasty pieces of work); Keane at Man United (plain evil when the fancy takes him); Gerrard at Liverpool (still in training, but learning fast); and Ince at Boro (old school-kick first, ask questions later). Are we noticing a theme here? They're all Brits who relish putting it about where it hurts, but where I ask, are all the foreigners. You could say Viera at Arsenal but to be honest I've never seen a bad tackle out of him. He always gets red cards for silly things.

This brings us to the phrase: "They don't fancy it up 'em". This most English of phrases originated in the 1800's when the 'Three Lions' were the global school yard bully. Legend has it that when the 'redcoats' fixed their bayonets in preparation for a charge, the Sergeant Major would shout "let's go lads and remember, those 'johnny foreigners', they don't fancy it up 'em."

To be quite frank, I wouldn't fancy a bayonet up my bum either, but lets translate it into footballing terms. Games in the Prem are played at 100 miles-per-hour, tackles are flying in from all directions, and if you back down or show the slightest hesitation, teams are on to it like a shark smelling blood in the water.

What's this got to do with anything you may ask?

Well, if you look at the winner of the last three Premier League titles (Manchester United), there was a distinct absence of foreign players on their side. Compare that to the cosmopolitan teams like Chelsea and Arsenal. At home in front of their own fans they don't half play some lovely stuff: knocking it around, little one-two's, fancy flicks, you name it. But on the road, it's a whole different story.

Why? Maybe it's because they've got to travel on a bus instead of their flash motors. Or perhaps not eating pre-match meals at their favorite restaurants upsets the equilibrium. Or is it simply that they lose their bottle (nerve) in the heat of battle.

If we look at the combined away records of these two clubs from last year, a startling fact emerges. Only nine wins from thirty-eight games total. Meanwhile the Man U, Leeds and Ipswich (all filled with Brit players) each had that many victories on the road.

Let's face it, playing on the road is intimidating. Unruly crowds that hate your guts, unfamiliar pitches and opposition that are fired up to kick some ass, but if you seriously want to contend for the major prizes, winning away from home is a must.

This leads me to believe that 'when the going gets tough', the foreigners get going. In other words, they pull a David Copperfield and somehow vanish before forty thousand pairs of eyes. A mighty impressive trick, but when you're paying these blokes thousands of large ones a week, getting 'stuck in' should be the norm not the exception.

Now, before you come round to my house and kick my head in for being xenophobic, I think the foreign imports have made the Prem into what it is today... the best league in the world. So keep them coming on over. They just need to be a bit harder the road.

Until then, get the beers in.