Doreen Tipton: Gary – how’s this for crisp passing?

I know the BBC isn’t fussed about saving money, as they don’t have to earn it, but I wish they’d asked me, because I know quite a few blokes who’ll happily talk about football for nothing. And they’re usually far more entertaining.

In fact, there’s been quite a lot of football on the telly lately for some reason, so I started analysing the whole business of being a pundit, as it’s obviously such a good earner, and I reckon I could do it no problem.

For a start, the average pundit only needs a vocabulary of about 18 words. That’s quite a few less than a typical primate, and way behind a tropical parrot. The key words are bundled into specific phrases from which you must never deviate. A good pundit will have mastered about five phrases, but you can easily get by on three.

The first one you’ll definitely need is: “Composure in the final third.” I’m not sure what it means, but it’ll easily see you through the half-time chat.

The second must-use phrase is: “If you don’t take your chances at this level, the opposition will punish you.” Whatever happens, don’t forget to say ‘at this level’ otherwise you’ve blown it, and always use the word ‘punish’ rather than any other similar expression.

And the third vital phrase to have ‘in your locker’ is: “For me it’s not a penalty – he’s gone down far too easily,” or the equally acceptable: “For me it’s a stone-wall penalty,” which is sometimes accompanied by the vague mention of a trailing leg.

Pundits, you see, spend many hours and lots of tax-payers’ money discussing whether a penalty was a penalty. They seem to have overlooked the basic fact that, if the referee gave a penalty, it was indeed a penalty, and if he didn’t, it wasn’t – because they’re not the referee, and therefore have no control whatsoever over the game. All the talking in the world won’t change that. But they don’t care, because they’re not paid on results, they’re paid by the word. This is especially good news for Alan Shearer, who says many of his words twice in succession before er, before, before finally, before finally er, spitting them, er spitting them out.

I used to think that football matches lasted 90 minutes. But thanks to the punditry before and after, important televised games now last around two days.

At this World Cup, of course, the pundits got very excited because they had a new toy to play with – VAR. The video replays are supposed to help the referee decide if he’s got key decisions right, but I think the system needs some tweaking. When England played, I saw some incidents in the penalty box which seemed to provide enough video evidence to put a few South American defenders away for manslaughter.

In fact, the replays looked more like police CCTV footage from a Saturday night in a Tipton pub at throwing-out time. But apparently neither the video review team nor the Crown Prosecution Service saw any foul play.

Perhaps they needed more evidence, like fingerprints on Harry Kane’s neck, or fibres from his shirt found embedded in the defender’s fingernails and teeth.

A proper judicial system would therefore seem the next logical step in controlling the game. Firstly, alert the referee to an incident he missed, show him the Video Replay, and have a forensic team get DNA swabs from the defender. Then offer the defender a lawyer (also known as a defence barrister), wait for him to put in an appeal to the EU Supreme Court of Human Rights, and finally make the decision 18 years later.

Anyway, I reckon Gary Lineker’s got quite a cushy job, especially when you remember that he also sells crisps, for which I bet he gets a tidy packet. A packet of money, I mean, not a packet of crisps.

And that’s not fair either. I eat loads more crisps than he does. Many of my videos on social media have featured a packet of Walkers, so I reckon the extra surge in sales was all down to me. But Walkers probably thought it was his naff ads working and so he got awarded another lucrative contract.

In fact, you owe me big-time, Lineker. Tell you what, I’ll settle for a football pundit’s job. I’ve learnt all the phrases – I can even chuck in a few extra flourishes, like: “The passing, the movement, the touch and technique.” Or: “Magnificent strike.” Or: “Hit them on the counter,” whatever that means. I’ll only charge half a million, and the other pundits can be replaced by a primate and a tropical parrot, so the BBC will be quids in, and the primate and the parrot will be good for their diversity targets. I’ll also be able to tell you, instantly and definitively, whether it was or wasn’t a penalty, based solely on the referee’s decision. All the money and air-time waffle that the BBC saves can then be re-invested in producing more crime drama for folk that don’t like football. Who knows, perhaps it could star Harry Kane and a few South American defenders.

Tarra a bit x