From Florida to Ennistymon, with the divided street of Belfast in between, Ed Randolph has made an impression wherever he pitched up to play basketball. Just like his son, and Republic of Ireland keeper, Darren, writes Kieran Shannon.

Even now, after he’s gone and the Oireachtas hearing and the forest of newsprint his name and departure triggered, we don’t know what we’ve lost in Billy Walsh.

So they’re supposed to give up now. Just like any sensible group of Irish sportspeople should. They failed so they’re failures and would be better of failing to even try again, the nation’s sages in their self-appointed wisdom chortling Cleese that haven’t you forgotten, it’s the hope, not the despair, that kills you, old boy.

’I wondered if we would have won if Paulie had been on the field. I know the same thought crossed other players’ minds. As captain he would have been barking at us, making sure fellas didn’t take the soft option.’

One of the many charms of Jurgen Klopp is that unlike the person he could be succeeding at Anfield, he has the capacity to prompt people to chuckle with him rather than at him.