Blind Date

It’s the showdown nobody asked for, the moveable object versus the stoppable force: the showcase of the mortals.

And yet, after an international break dominated by rumours that players were turning up at Thorp Arch under the cover of darkness to conduct secret medicals, I began reminiscing about the halcyon days of players turning up in the matchday squad having signed that same day. No social media announcement, no Fabrizio Romano tweet weeks before they turn up — just Ben Fry announcing that Max Gradel and Sam Vokes are on the bench.

There’s something wholesome about that level of nonsense happening at a professional football club and in a lot of ways, I miss it. In a much more real sense, though, I really don’t.

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