Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.
A big cuddle for the manager, a kiss for his room-mate and a slap of the hands for the trainee sitting at the back and the junior video analyser.
Watching a game on tenterhooks to see if the manager picks his nose.
Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .
Those who want Arsène Wenger sacked will regret being so horrid to him.
Man United, Man City, Chelsea, Spurs, Arsenal – they all proudly proclaim the names of their official suppliers of beer, betting, doughnuts, coffee, underpants, toilet paper, cars, call girls, condoms.
No point putting out a story saying that Chelsea got stuffed 19-1 by Spurs. Who would believe it, even if Donald Trump tweeted it?
I want to be here to see my older grandchildren, now aged 16, leave college, if they ever go, and get a job (they’ll be lucky). But mostly, I want to see China win.
Pick-outs, flash gits and performance-enhancing underwear – it’s time to look back on the season.
From where you go to what you eat, football is full of snobs. Who doesn’t like looking down on other people?
Peter Crouch came out with one of the wittiest football lines. When asked what he thought he would have been but for football, he replied: “A virgin.”
The Zombie PM
The doomed premiership of Theresa May