Football fanaticalist

There's not many can withhold a candle to the magnificent Arsenal over the past few seasons in the football cup trophy.

I think it's fair to say they've been absolutely bloomin' superb, with no serious competition from any quarter ever at all.

I can - and do - and have done - spend hours watching them chasing the ball up the pitch; punting a perfectly-weighted pass to a team-mate; dribbling; nutcracking; shooting and, of course, my favourite, scoring a top-flight goal net.

I'm rarely off my hideous feet - leaping about all the time cheering them to the rafters of our marvellous high-spec new venue, the Emerald stadium.

But my admiration goes far, far beyond simple skills and team spirit.

It is one of my life's great pleasures to watch them striding, running, chasing, and breaking into a sweat in their little white shorts and red tops. The little pecks on the cheek when they want to congratulate one another, and the full-on mouth action and embraces when they actually score.

Sometimes - and forgive me if my confession shocks you - I even go as far as fantasising about scrubbing mud- and sweat-stained backs in the communal baths. What fun we could have with the soap and loofah!

Yes, I love my team!