THE dreadful weather made for a hair-raising drive home from Hull late on Saturday night. My hands gripped the wheel in terror, as we crossed the open expanses of the Humber Bridge.

AFTER a decade or more of racking up huge debts, chasing the Champions League Holy Grail around Europe, it’s basically the lack of any further lines of credit that’s forced me to curtail my customary habit of following the Arsenal absolutely everywhere.