There is a disturbing image that I cannot get out of my head. I have tried to get rid of it, but it has been with me ever since I heard Newcastle United manager Rafael Benitez give another depressing update on the club’s recruitment plans this summer.

It does not involve Benitez leaving, although I’m sure that day will come, probably when his contract expires at the end of the season.

Instead it is to do with Mike Ashley. Ok, brace yourself. It is Ashley, the rotund, 53-year-old sports shop billionaire, dressed up as Britney Spears in her schoolgirl outfit, complete with pig tails and backing dancers, gyrating to the beat of the song, while mouthing, seductively to camera “Oops I did it again, I messed with your heart, got lost in the game….”

I know, I know, but if it is haunting me, it is haunting you. I’m joking, sort of, but this is not really a laughing matter.

I have compared Newcastle’s owner to many things during his 11-year reign at St James’ Park. Few of them have been flattering, but perhaps the best was to liken him to the Dementors in the Harry Potter books and movies, the creatures that suck the joy and hope out of their victims.