Pass the ball, for Pete’s sake! Crikey, are those real, luv? What are we going to do about Marcus Trescothick? Do you think that woman at the bar would be interested in Schumpeter? Right here in the bar? At least we haven’t been relegated. And there’s always next season. Pizza with extra pepperoni. What do you mean 40 minutes for delivery? Hey, I think she really fancies me. Maybe hiring a new goalkeeper would solve all our problems. I’d love a biryani. She scratched her knee: that means she fancies me. They look good with the electric hood down. But it can’t be safe to leave them parked like that. It’s an invitation to every passing thief! And some samosas. She winked at me. No, it wasn’t a problem with her contact lens – do you think I’m stupid? But can we afford a new goalie next season? Hell, I’ve left it a bit late to start the barbecue – wait! Why don’t I just zap the burgers with my acetylene torch instead? I wouldn’t choose the British Racing Green, though. Ferrari red’s the colour to go for. Now tell me that wasn’t a definite wink! Why did nobody tell me that they now made an 84-inch plasma TV screen? I’m 34 and I’ve still never read Schumpeter in an aircraft lavatory. Why do you suppose nobody has ever thought to add a small chainsaw to the Swiss Army pen-knife? Chips. But who will they get in if Mourin-ho goes? And beer. Of course I know how to change a tap washer! Whoah, someone telephone for a plumber, quick! A few crisps would be nice. Would it be mad to even consider a Humvee? What with having enough room for all the kids, it’s almost an eco-car. See how she just touched her eyebrow? She fancies me, all right! But she’s more Weber than Schumpeter.