In the past two decades footballers have, for many sports fans and indeed non-fans, come to epitomise all that is wrong with celebrity culture. They are one-dimensional. Crass. Money-obsessed. Spoilt. Intellectually incurious. There lingers a nostalgia for the pre-George Best era, when players stuck with one club throughout their careers, travelled to the ground on the same buses that transported their supporters, gave their all for their country with minimal remuneration, and then retired to run a pub.

Compare and contrast with the modern game, in which the world’s best players are pampered multimillionaires, manipulated by their agents to ply their trade for any team that is prepared to part with the most generous pot of TV rights-generated gold. Roy of the Rovers has become