Jimmy here, and this season's a right circus, ain't it? More drama than a night at the telly with all these EastEnders and Hollyoaks going on. These managers, they wouldn't know a winning tactic from a dodgy kebab after a night on the town!
And this whole player transfer palaver? Don't even get me started! Clubs squabbling over a bloke who couldn't kick a pig in a welly for a quid - it's enough to make a grown man nostalgic for the days of gentleman's agreements and a good handshake.
Bless these footballers, though. Millions of quid a year, and they get their knickers in a twist over a bit of rain in Manchester or a dodgy beach in Brighton. Back in my day, we played through rain, hail, or a swarm of angry pigeons, all for the love of the beautiful game!
Look, here's the tea. If a player wants to move on, let them go and chase their glory, but for goodness sake, have a bit of decorum! No need for these drawn-out sagas longer than a Victorian novel. The world of football needs a good dose of stiff upper lip and a spot of dignity, that's what I say!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a cuppa and a lie down. All the gossip madness is giving me a right headache. Perhaps I'll just watch some reruns of the 66 World Cup, a time when football was proper and a bloke knew what he was playing for!