Football is the poetry of a motion.

My ballsack drives me nuts. Jogging has got to be the floppiest sport. Definitely not for lovers. Gentlemen prefer gymnastics.

Well, with that filly in my line of vision blushing like a virgin, something in me was bound to stand at attention. And my walking legs were occupied.

The sports pages are men’s pages, although they are not presented as such. /…/ On foreign fields, the men win their trophies, or lose their honour, doing battle on the nation’s behalf. The readers, mainly...

George Orwell famously described international sport as ‘war minus the shooting’. But for all Orwell’s greatness as a thinker, this was one of his least felicitous lines, analogous to ‘murder minus the death’ or ‘life...

Men don’t have a reason any more. No one wants us. Why should they? What can we do? We have no job, no home to go to. It’s been taken away. Small wonder then that...