We were landing as half time approached. “Mobile phones must be switched off during the entire flight.” Would it really matter if I put it on silent for a couple of minutes just to see how we were getting on? “Mobile phones can interfere with electrical equipment” goes around and around in my head. Can't be long, so I wait. But it's not until I get out of the airport that I am able to switch it on and it's three points in the bag. The holiday blues were put on hold before consuming me because at that moment I was happy.

A win against Reading was a good result but according to Match of the Day’s three mostly dead presenters (I say mostly dead because I'm sure I saw one of them move once) it was “a worrying time for Reading” and “what does Steve Coppell do now?” What about our good performance, not only on the pitch but in the stands as well? Our wonderful farewell to Ian Porterfield, who was one of our greatest legends, was amazing. He was a real gentleman in the game and he gave me my best ever memory.

Alan “I can talk without saying anything constructive or interesting” Hansen, Sheep “no facial expression possible” Shearer and Gary “more makeup on my nose please” Lineker are so boring. The programme needs revamping, new presenters and some life. Football is exciting and should be presented as such. The match commentaries are lifeless too. Sky and the radio manage it so why not the Beeb on Match of the Day?

The show is as dead as Monty Python’s parrot and it's not as funny. It could and should be worth leaving the pub for. The one thing I did agree with was a comment from Sheep Shearer on Kenwyne Jones. Did it hurt him to say something good about our club? I do hope so. What a presence Kenwyne had. He was exciting to watch and my pulse rose with the thought of what he brings to the club.

Anyway while on this holiday to Croatia ice cream was on my daily menu. It's a woman thing. Just as men have to rid the world of beer so women have to rid the world of ice cream, oh and chocolate as well. While we were busy choosing a flavour from the many available, the young man serving asked where we were from. “England, Sunderland,” I replied. Blank. “London,” I said, because that's where I live now and I knew he would get that. “Ah, Arsenal” he says. “No, Sunderland is my club” I reply. Blank expression still. “Sunderland” I repeat. “Sun-er-land” he tries. “Who do you support?” I ask. “Manchester United” comes the answer, chest out and proud. He smiles. “You know Roy Keane?” I try. “Yes he our cap-it-an, great player.” Still smiling. “Yes, well he’s now our coach, our manager at Sunderland, great coach.” Chest out and proud, there’s a slight facial movement of understanding. “Roy Keane is now our coach at Sunderland,” I repeat. He gets it. “Roy Keane Sun-er-land.” Chest out and proud. “I will look out for Sun-er-land now,” he laughs. Another convert.

The Croatians love their football and my mate and I enjoyed a couple of evenings down by the waterfront watching the Euro 2008 qualifying matches on the big screens with a bevy or three. Great evenings. Poor Ronaldo, I mean they “are the best team in the group.” Very funny that. Oh yes I do now have the holiday blues but we know what will help that don't we?