By nature I’m chippy, prone to carrying a grudge – and not shy of explaining it in print.
Like you, I imagine, I’m sick and tired of reaching Hampden and not winning a trophy. But I’m not going to be hypocritical.
Sometimes football can be delicious. I’m not a fan of how PSG have tried to develop in recent seasons.
While I’m not one of life’s great worriers, Leo Messi troubles me.
Atlético Madrid’s striker Álvaro Morata makes me recall a boisterous and boozy dinner I had in Fulham back in 2006.
One of the Marc Andre Ter Stegen saves in Barca’s 4-4 draw at Villarreal was literally extraordinary – however, his risky anticipation over whether Toko Ekambi would cross or shoot left him embarrassed and cost Barça the 2-2 goal.
As if the drama on the pitch wasn’t sufficient, the images around the edge were searing.
I am, at heart, a mild-mannered Bieldside boy – but Gareth Bale is doing a fine job of turning me into some sort of Victor “Mr Angry” Meldrew.
I deeply feel the privilege of working in a career I love.
Iker Casillas has been a big character in my career.
How much do you remember of Peter Beardsley?
I know I wrote here recently about Vinicius.
Real Madrid are on my mind, and not only because of Alex McLeish’s recent birthday.
Graham Hunter: Champions League tunnel vision offered sign that Mourinho’s time at Manchester United was almost up
The last time I saw Jose Mourinho face to face while he was still Manchester United coach it was at close range.
Ousmane Dembélé has had one hell of a week.
I like Eden Hazard as a footballer. Never met him, though.
Word reaches my royal ear (Copyright: King Louie, Jungle Book) that the Dandies desperately needed VAR at Pittodrie last week against Kilmarnock.
I’d be pretty sure that bookmakers across the UK took an absolute hammering at the weekend.
I only hope you were watching. I hope you thrilled to every last second of Atlético Madrid becoming the ninth Spanish winner of the European Supercup in the last 10 finals.
There’s substance to this summer story of Juventus not only wanting to buy Cristiano Ronaldo but Madrid being willing, at least, to talk to them about the deal.
It’s only really beginning to sink in but Sunday was a personal farewell to Andrés Iniesta.
In January 2011 I got a phone call from Alan Pardew, then the Newcastle manager, who wanted to replace the aggressive, physical, aerially successful striker he’d just lost to Liverpool.
One of the least appealing elements of this profession is telling the truth.
It’s best to start with an admission. I adored Neale Cooper, the player, the person, the voracious lover of life.
By the time the dust settles in Kiev I’ll be just a few days away from my Aeroflot flight to Moscow.
Although they are the two men of the moment one looks like a kid and the other still bears the nickname The Kid.
And so to the case of Ousmane Dembélé. Have you seen the French winger?
The Europa League final on Wednesday should be the ultimate “boy done good” story for Antoine Griezmann.
It’s Clásico weekend. And the last time this head-on collision between Spain’s capital and the centre of Catalunya took place on a football pitch with one of the two teams already La Liga winners was exactly 10 years ago.
If everything has gone to plan then this morning Andrés Iniesta will have announced he’s choosing not to renew his contract at Barcelona, that he’s heading off to play football in China and that a Camp Nou era has ended.