Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!

I’ve been trying to figure out how best to convey my feelings over how it has taken a 17-year-old teenager to put himself out there, literally, by coming out as the only self confessed gay professional footballer presently playing in the English league. and the only thing I can come up with is I DON’T CARE!

I don’t care how many other footballers are in the closet or whether they now intend to reveal their homosexuality. They are paid to play football and anything else is nobody’s business but theirs.

Why are such declarations deemed necessary at all? Who actually gives a damn?

I suppose you could argue that Blackpool striker Jake Daniels has set an example to people who are living with a secret, but is not standing on the rooftops telling anyone willing to listen actively hiding it?

Only if that’s how you choose to perceive yourself.

OK, someone in any form of public life faces a different level of scrutiny to the rest of us and especially with team sports that attract wildly partisan crowds there will be chants from the terraces, but is facing un-pc catcalls any worse than them shouting that you’ve got two left feet and don’t know how to tackle or head a ball?

Why should anyone feel such a responsibility, or indeed think that their sexual preferences should be of any interest whatsoever to the rest of us?

It’s the same with the red carpet brigade who over share about their open marriage or being polyamorous. SO WHAT?

So long as it’s legal what you get up to is nothing to do with me or anyone else and I couldn’t be less interested.

We have war in Ukraine, a crippling cost of living crisis… why should anyone concern themselves with a gay footballer?

Are you amusing, entertaining, impressively skilled, affable, do I like you? Those are my criteria for social interaction or whether I’m going to admire what you do for a living.

Nothing else matters and if people who believe they are somehow different became less self obsessed then maybe they would realise that too.


Regardless of your opinion of the Amber Heard/Johnny Depp defamation case in the US, whoever on Depp’s legal team opted for Camille Vasquez to be the one to cross examine his ex wife last week certainly knew what they were doing.

The TV coverage in the US is treating the whole thing like a sports game and one so called expert even suggested that the lawyer’s “familiarity” with Depp was unprofessional and inappropriate in a court of law.

Rubbish! She’s showed every lawyer in the room how to get the measure of a client’s adversary and for future defendants it’s going to be akin to watching the Beast walk out to face you on The Chase after you just scored nine grand in the cash builder and you get that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you realise you’re done for.


I know I’m late to the party but I’ve just discovered the delights of Google Assistant. With my eyesight it could prove very useful, although I’ll admit my first thought was to find if it would do the same trick as my girlfriend’s Alexa by translating “Putin, cotton, coffee bean 100” into Welsh (it does, but refuses to actually say it).

Of course, with an accent like mine it’s a bit hit and miss, like my request: “Hey Google, play the Wet Leg album” which resulted in: “Playing Westlife.”

Stupid TV quiz answer of the week

Tipping Point

Q: In the Peter Sellers films what colour is the panther?

A: Black

Q: Which country in the UK has a population of 1.9 million?

A: Is the Isle of Man a country?

Q: Who is the Queen’s oldest child?

A: Prince Andrew, followed immediately by

Q: The football teams Wolverhampton and Bolton have what at the end of their name?

A: City?

Edward Case