Sand and soccer — a very Special Brew

MEMO to the Sports Editor From The Football Correspondent: Dear Commander in Chief, I popped in to see you this morning only to find that, not for the first time, you were slumbering peacefully at your desk, worn out after another long nocturnal shift at the coalface.

It was a touching scene, the fine strands of your ancient gossamer beard rising and falling softly with each breath, your hand still cradling the tin of Special Brew which you had doubtless confiscated from one of the subs whose commitment to the cause is so much less than your own.

Not wishing to disturb you, oh king of kings, I simply stood in silence for a while, lost in admiration for the exquisite shape of your skull and pondering, with no little awe, the scintillating contents — now briefly stilled — contained within (also, please note that before tip-toeing away, I left your daily bottle of Gaviston in the drawer and your newly polished shoes under your desk. I trust all is to your satisfaction).