I thought of signing you up for a new sporting digest I would create called "Aiyya My Knee."

There is purpose, there is direction, there were two reasons.

1. My present unhealthy fascination with a group of tricolour-waving Vatican Storm-troopers masquerading as a football team in the East End of Glasgow.

2. The joys of reading echt-Anglo-Scots as purveyed by a genuine Sub-polar crazed sportswriter, and not that of irredeemably fey Cambridge educated fictionalists and allied poetasters.

However, I have taken pity on you and have decided to keep football as a solitary vice - which is after all, the way I like my vice - like the cattle prod and the two female iguanas I haven't got round to telling you about. It is a very gross tableau. Once more you are spared.