AFTER 42 years of watching football, you’d think I’d have learned never to ditch a game before the final whistle. But no. On Saturday I was watching the Wolves v Coventry FA Cup quarter-final with my six-year-old son, whose interest in football could be generously described as lukewarm. As the second half ticked on I was badgered to put Power Rangers, Pokemon or something else on. So when Wolves stormed back from 1-0 down to score twice in the final seven minutes of normal time, I crumbled. “Go on then, have your TV,” I said. “This one is done.&...