A letter of support to Andy Gray and Richard Keys…

RE: “Sexism in football” row.

Dear Richard and Andy (henceforth known collectively as “Randy”, for the sake of simplicity),

Let me start off by commending your regularly excellent work on Sky Sports. Well done. Top stuff. ‘What a hit’.

As a Liverpool FC fan I unfortunately have to watch ITV’s football coverage more often than anybody deserves to on account of The Mighty Reds being in the UEFA Cup this season. To combat their advert-riddled prattle I tend to have it on mute and do my own “Sky-style” commentary with different voices. I do one rough Scottish accent and say things that don’t make much sense, and one timid, posh accent to agree with everything the first voice says.

Football without “Randy” is like a woman without a feather duster. Pointless and deluded.

I was as outraged as you lads were when I was watching the game on Saturday. I thought, ‘Oh great, Liverpool are already having an awful season and now we’ve got a bloody woman making the decisions. It’s a surprise she made it onto the pitch on time and that she didn’t spend the first 45 minutes trying to parallel park her Micra outside the ground.’

It didn’t help that the game was an early kick-off and I was in a ratty mood after only 4 hours sleep – I was up all night getting tanked-up in my nearest stripclub, “Purple Tiger”, until the bouncers unfairly threw me out for ‘staring too much’ – and when I saw that broad on the pitch with a yellow and orange bit of material I figured she had come on with a j-cloth to wipe down the goalposts before kick off, I didn’t think for one moment that she’d be allowed to referee!

It’s a disgrace, Randy. It really is. I mean, what is the world coming to? All of this fuss caused by a couple of bloody lads having a bit of banter about The Old Enemy? God forbid the newspapers focus on the ACTUAL football. There were loads of talking points from that game, such as Glen Johnson’s new haircut (I like it), and Ryan Babel still being banned from Twitter (I really like it).

I hear you’ve been bumped from tonight’s Bolton vs. Chelsea coverage. That’s a shame. You’re welcome to come round my house to watch it if you want, I’ve got a load of Stellas in from the World Cup that my mates were going to drink but neither of them have had the time to see me recently. It’s OK though, people get busy, I’m not bothered about it – you get used to your own company after a while. I don’t mind. Please come round though, we can order some dirty foreign takeaway; have a few jars, take the mick out of the sissy-boys hanging around the pub over the road, and watch SKY struggle to cope without you two fine gentlemen.

They’ll probably get Germaine Greer in and Deliah Smith to talk about what a bad husband John Terry would be and how Matty Taylor ‘looks cute in those little shorts’. Crivens.

Randy, all I can say is hang on in there. Don’t let their nagging grind you down, because God only knows if you give them an inch they’ll take a bloody mile. That Karen Brady bird is the worst, sticking her beak in where it’s not wanted. If you lads wanted to know how the dishwasher works, or what type of Jif removes lime scale the best from the bathtub you’d ask for her opinion wouldn’t you? I don’t know why she’s worrying her pretty little head about football matters. She’s probably just moody because she’s going through “the change”; a packet of Opal Fruits and 12 red roses from your local BP should do the trick, worked for me when I had a girlfriend.

It’s political correctness gone mad. Whatever next eh? A female Prime Minister?

Do me a favour, love.

Yours sincerely,

Chris Burgess.