England's headlines must be the work of Peter Mandelson

Hand of Mandy

"Oh help" - which was what my mother used to say, flatly, resignedly, whenever someone said something rude, suggestive or vulgar. It was her way of being prudish without actually telling the person off or leaving the room. She also used the same two words if anyone started going all emotional, sharing their pain, involving us in their psychological problems and mental state, when we hadn't even asked.

Where she came from, which was Motherwell in the 1920s, you didn't do feelings. "Och, we could all have a mental breakdown," she'd mutter, then pause. "But some of us haven't got the time."

I've been finding myself going "Oh help" all week, every time I pick up the sports sections. The end of the year is nigh, so already the Great Brains of the Back Pages are looking back - and even worse, looking forward. "FROM THE WALLY WITH A BROLLY TO THE MAN WITH A PLAN . . . ENGLAND'S AMAZING YEAR," screamed a Daily Mirror headline. I put the paper down and left hurriedly, though there was one paper I still hadn't read.

I have these three caffs I go to, not for the coffee, but for the papers. We get the Indie in the morning (I do like to help charities) but I aim to have seen every other paper by close of play. So, before I order my coffee, I check to see what they've got lying around. I can go in with a headache, worrying about something stupid, and come out refreshed, all thoughts of that mental breakdown gorn.

Fab Fabio has had a successful year, but England has played only one really decent top-class team, France, who beat them

That day, the headline in the London Evening Standard (which I do buy, I'm not that mean) announced: "We can rule the world, says JT." In the story, John Terry was quoted as saying: "I think we are a lot higher in the world than the rankings show." That was his strongest quotation, but some overexcited sub-editor had sexed it up. At the weekend, the Sunday Times let fly with a corny headline across two pages: "What a fab year." Next day came the Cumberland News; we get it every week for a bit of sanity and the latest Herdwick prices. Blow me, when I got to its sports pages, there was a bold headline saying: "Many thanks Capello - you've changed us from flops to world-beaters."

Now I know England did pretty well, beating Germany with their reserve team, but come on, Germany were crap, worst I've seen them for years. And yes, Fab Fabio has had a successful year, but England has played only one really decent top-class team, France, who beat them.

I find myself groaning "Oh help" resignedly, when I read all this stuff, because I know there's nothing you can do about it. There seems to be something in the England football psyche that needs all this twaddle to cheer us up, take our mind off our real worries.

I wouldn't be surprised if Mandy weren't behind all these headlines. He gets on the blower to the chief subs as soon as he sees some more nasty economic news coming up and says: "Look here, I think frankly that I know you'll be making John Sergeant Man of the Year, but I can tell you off the record that next year, Capello will be the new pope."

The trouble is, I start believing it myself. Well, we haven't been stuffed by the Faroe Isles or Rockall, not recently. We're on a roll, best league in the world, brilliant crop of new players, a messiah for manager at last, no wonder we won the 2010 World Cup, richly deserved.

We did, didn't we? I'm sure I read that this week: JT got a hat-trick; Scott Carson played a blinder. It was in the papers. Or is my brain going soft? "Oh help."

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