Hello. Gary Lineker here. You know. Golden Boot winner. No bookings. Nicest man in football. Farts don’t stink.

Anyway, I’ve taken a break from spending time with my Hot New Wife to write this special 200th blog post.

It’s probably a good thing too as Danielle is in a bad mood with me.

“Gary,” she said last week. “It’s just all sport with you. The football. The golf. You’re obsessed. You spend more time with that Alan Hansen than you do with me.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. That night I booked a table for two at eight o’clock.

But by nine o’clock, things were ten times worse.

She hadn’t potted a single fucking red.