I read the news today, oh Roy

HANKIES at the ready, everybody.

“Where were you when you heard the news?” reporter Graeme Anderson asked in yesterday’s edition of the Sunderland Echo. “Me? I was on a week’s holiday. The phone had not stopped ringing all week, even before yesterday’s announcement, and all hopes of getting away for at least a couple of days with our lass were dashed once Roy Keane resigned. I’ll try not to hold that against him. Our lass might.”

You might think I jest about those hankies but no, deep down, I feel Graeme’s pain. Not to mention our lass’s. We’ve all been there, us unsung footsoldiers of the inky trade, tortured, emaciated poor creatures desperately trying to fit a little R&R into our hectic schedule of matches, press conferences, think-pieces, injury updates, one-to-ones, training sessions and, if you’re an Irish football scribe, those always dependable examinership proceedings in the courts.