YOU can always tell the state of Man United corporate thinking from the ever-revolving and allegedly player-distracting pitchside ads at Old Trafford.

BEFORE I start: tell me, is it my turn to manage Newcastle United yet? No? Ah well, back to the day job, then.

REDS have found it difficult to decide who they have more contempt for at Barcode Park this season — Big Fat Sam Allardyce with his ever-open mouth and never-ending uselessness, or the whingeing Geordie muppet-fans and their perennial bloodlust for swinging victims from the Gallows-gate.

THAT’LL teach me to get all childishly excited about a cup tie, as I did in last week’s column: what a dreadful match, though credit must go to the travelling Reds who attempted to maintain the atmosphere despite the dire fare.

THE Glasgow Empire was legendary for its cutting treatment of entertainment that didn’t please. When the Mike and Bernie Winters twins took their comedy act into the scotch-fuelled lions’ den, Mike went on alone first for 10 tumble-weeded minutes before cueing up Bernie for his entrance.

THERE was a banner in the Kop on Sunday announcing “we’re supporting the manager as always”. Fair enough.

He has had to adapt to a new city, very different to the London he was used to. Recently he has been Home Alone after his wife and kids had an extended stay back in Argentina; moreover he had several early weeks of critics carping at his supposed failure to get with Rooney, not to mention the ongoing brouhaha over the MSI affair.

A MARVELLOUSLY silly tabloid story here in Britain yesterdaydeclared that the number one Google search this past year was for the phrase “I hate Ronaldo”.

POOR PIQUE. Last week he enthused: “You know if you make a mistake you have these great players around you. Rio Ferdinand talks a lot to you on the pitch and helps you out...” Mmm. Well, there’s an easy dig to be had at my least favourite player there but I should be better than that.

GREETINGS from a most agreeable sunny spot off the west African coast, to which I have retreated during this current international break, courtesy of my now-emptied BetFair account. (“Put your money where you mouth is,” sneered email critics: Well, glad that I did — see previous columns!).