IT’S DIFFICULT MIXING WITH FAT CATS

A FRESH TAKE ON FOOTBALL
AS A teenager, I worked weekends in the local Spar. Stacking shelves, manning tills, packing cans of McEwan’s Export into easily accessible ‘eight for a fiver’ bags. My boss was a big bloke called Dave, who once chased and collared a shoplifter despite having lost half his leg in a motorbike crash.
Dave was originally from Rotherham and, when he wasn’t pursuing miscreants or “cooking wi’ gas”, he was spouting terrible puns and one-liners. One of his favourite joke...