The three steps to a satisfying season of armchair viewing, which can be recalled with the handy mnemonic POP, are:


1. Planning. You don’t want to be in the position that the hapless partner of a colleague currently finds himself. He is a Liverpool season ticket holder and she described him, a little too smugly, I felt, as having a “face like a smacked arse” when it dawned that they had booked their wedding for the day of a home match next month. (This is a guy who, when I offered him my congratulations, got very excited because he thought I must have heard some good transfer news that had yet to reach him. He could not hide his disappointment when I explained that I was referring to his forthcoming nuptials.)
Planning means studying the schedule of televised games and using your ingenuity to keep those times clear of other engagements without actually admitting that you are doing this to watch men kicking a ball on television. You might mutter vaguely about the need to be on standby for work. Or suggest that the garden needs urgent attention (and find that your sciatica is playing up in plenty of time for kick-off).


Or plan a long walk in the country that ends up in front of the big screen in the pub at five minutes to three.

Follow up:

2. Organise. Because most big televised games are on Sunday afternoons the chances of clashes are high. The trick is to make your social diary work for you. For example, you might suggest that it would be lovely to see Louise and Ron soon. You can then leaf through your diary and casually suggest the date of a game that involves Ron’s team. After lunch the two of you can slip away to watch the match and you’ll be able to use Ron as a human shield.


3. Prioritise. There’s no point in aiming to watch every game. It won’t happen. So pick the crummy ones that you are happy to sacrifice and make sure an inescapable social encounter is scheduled for that day. Of course, there’s no point in doing this if your selflessness goes unnoticed. It is essential that you engineer it so that your partner sees that the game is on TV. When she says:

“Darling, did you know Liverpool were playing today?”,

you can say airily:

“Well, yes, I did. But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”*

She will gaze at you with admiration and awe. Or she might just narrow her eyes suspiciously and shake her head in disgust. I cannot pretend that POP is a completely foolproof system.


* I've only ever used this for the TNS game last year