MUGS ETC

Did anyone see the back page of the Guardian's sport section on Thursday? Marina Hyde's fantastic reportage/piss take out of the golden generation of the 3 Lions' biographies.
She coats off Cole, Terry and the like with panache, but the best is left for Frank Lamps. She describes the excerpt of his book from the World Cup in 2006, where Frank misses a penalty and feels terrible etc. But, then he looks to the sky and sees the moon, which reminds him of his daughter Luna (deep as mate, deep as) and all of a sudden he feels better.
Before I rip into my tirade of abuse, it is only fair to mention the Frank conclusions of Marina, she then reminds the readers that it was sun filled evening the night that Frank missed, plus the roof was closed! How priceless is that? Silly fucker!
Now this makes me angry in a few ways. Firstly, he feels better, less than a minute after missing a penalty, which will help to see England fall flat on their arses, again, after believing their own hype. We didn't look to the sky/roof of the pub and feel better mate, most of us had to hold back tears or stop ourselves from jumping into the telly to cut you a new mouth.
Secondly, you remember your daughter because her name is moon in Spanish? That's fucking gravy mate. If you want to remember your daughter more often, you are going to need to watch a whole lot of the Sky at Night or rename her Fanjita.