There was a time when a woman’s place on TV coverage of the World Cup was restricted to leering crowd shots of female fans.

Do you remember the first time?

Monkeys, it turns out, have a highly developed understanding of the concept of fairness, writes Tommy Martin.

It was a shameless act. Premeditated. Despicable, disgusting, dastardly. Did he mean it? Of course he did.

In the tunnel underneath the Estadio Nacional in Lisbon moments before the 1967 European Cup final, Celtic’s players lined up alongside their opposition, Inter Milan.

If there is one lesson to be taken from the football season almost gone, it’s that plans are not just for workshy scholars, writes Tommy Martin.

Abandon hope all ye who enter here. This is the football championship. Thirty-two counties chase a ball around for four months and at the end, the Dubs always win.

Much like the persistence of racism, to be still talking about a problem that existed in the days when Graeme Souness had a moustache and a perm feels like a depressing indictment of humanity’s inability to change for the better, writes Tommy Martin.

For a certain type of Irish sports fan,European Champions Cup rugby weekends like the one just gone will always be a reminder of when life got that bit more awkward, writes Tommy Martin.