Naturally I'm waving the flag for Burnley this season -- not just because they are a model of local football propriety in a money-mad Premierbollocks world, but also because ("as any fule kno", says Molesworth) their boss Owen Coyle has achieved managerial greatness entirely as a result of his apprenticeship as a player at mighty Dumbarton.
It was a particular pleasure to see the Clarets beat a ramshackle Nearly-in-Manchester United 1-0 last night. Well, I say "watch", but I really mean "look at someone dementedly shouting at me from a Sky Sports News TV screen". Had I but known it, the game was actually showing in a pub next door. Plus the beer would have been a hundred times better. Bad research, Barrow.
Anyway, hearty congrats to the Turf Moor faithful. Even ex-New Labour toady Alastair Campbell [I'm being generous, and at least he's not a Tory], with whom I enjoyed a brief Twitter exchange about Burnley earlier in the year, on the edge of last season's promotion triumph. I'd dearly love them to stay up. Who in their right mind doesn't prefer Phoenix Nights to bloody Dallas, with or without the repulsively talented Cristiano Ronaldo?
[Picture: Peter Kay...? no, hang on, it's Owen looking pensive]