This week I am mainly blogging or should I say blabbering about football again.

I can hear all the groans coming forward and blog followers dropping off by the dozen, especially from the female fraternity saying “Oh no not football, again”.

But that is good. Because we will attract football blog followers, there are millions of them and they don’t care what you write as long as every sixth word is football. Grandad won’t think so, he hates losing followers to his website. But what he doesn’t understand is it is a transition.

I have now done three weeks of professional football training. I have learnt so much, I have come on in leaps and bounds.

So what lessons have I learnt that distinguishes a Professional Footballer from an ordinary one or an average normal person. Here are the lessons I learned.

First Lesson: which I passed with flying colours is what this blog posting is all about: Become a football bore. Talk and do nothing but football.

Second Lesson: Act like money has no consequence, you just do not have to worry where the next penny is coming from. With Pro footballers it comes from their football club, for me it’s from Mum and Dad. Whatever I want they magically provide the money for.

Third Lesson: Make scenes in restaurants which takes me to the Fourth Lesson,

Fourth Lesson: Do not share food or drink with anyone under any circumstances. I’ll give you an example. Mum and Dad who are keen to keep developping my footballing skills took me out to a restaurant for food on Sunday. Pro Footballers never eat at home unless they have a pizza, curry or Chinese delivered. We went out with footballing mates Daniel and his children. Ok, so the starter came. My favourite, garlic bread. Heaps of it great. But can you believe this? It had to be shared by everyone! Even my Dad and his mate Danny and boy can they trough. They can eat as much as me. Diabolical! Unbelievable! You can understand why I had a meltdown.

In disgust at having to share I refused to eat any, just as I had learnt in my Pro Footballing training. But in the end I had to relent and be a traitor to the cause or I wouldn’t have got any garlic bread.

A little more training needed there I fear. But I’m only little and it’s only my third week of training Rome wasn’t built in a day (so Grandad says, but I don’t know what that has to do with it).

Fifth Lesson: Fall to the ground dramatically crying making out you are hurt if something does not go your way. But ensure you hide your face well so no one can see you are not shedding real tears. I am a natural at this. I have been doing it since I was born. In fact, even before that when I was in the womb.

Sixth Lesson: If you kick someone as a Pro footballer, it’s just the same as at home. You are told off but if you do it again you are put on the naughty step. It’s same in football. They call it a foul, and make you go off the field, do not let you play again, but they make you sit on The Bench but it’s really a naughty step. I am so good at doing that. I have had so much practice.

Seventh Lesson: Always be messing with a ball where ever you are. In the house, in the car, in the bath, in bed, in your sleep, in your buggy, or on your bike. Messing means throwing, kicking or catching a ball. If there is no ball, which usually there is not, use the nearest thing: a toy car, a piece of jig saw, your dinner, your cup, your brother or even your shoe. Usually this lesson results in being part of the Sixth Lesson of throwing or kicking things which usually leads to the “Bench” (naughty step).

Eighth Lesson: Wheels on the Bus. We learn to sing songs and be right asses on the bus. For some reason they call it the “Team Bus”?

Ninth Lesson: Talking to media and social media. I have spent nearly three years trying to learn and perfect my speech to the Queen’s English, but now I have to unlearn it. A Pro Footballer has to speak to the media in the same way , and making the same noises (mainly crying) as if he’d just come out of the womb. And they have to have a presence on social media. May be, now Mum and Dad will let me play with their phones which they are always taking away from me, otherwise they are just throwing money away they are supposedly investing in me for football training.

Tenth Lesson: Watch anything on TV that has a ball featured in it. Don’t just watch the TV stare at it blankly and shutdown your senses to anything going on around you.

Eleventh Lesson: Wear your football kit including boots at all times. Never be seen in public without it. This lesson is a difficult one because Mum usually dresses me. She uses me to make a statement to the world using my T Shirts to send out messages like her Facebook page. (Like “Still with parents”). To be honest at my age I find that embarrassing. It is easier to have my kit on if Dad dresses me.

Twelfth Lesson: Football skills. Final lesson. We don’t spend much time on this. Just bear in mind we are training to be Professional Footballers so there is no real call for “Football Skills”, but coach says we do it for old times sake. It’s a nostalgia thing.

So that is my Professional Football lessons. And I did think it was going to be all about kicking balls, footballs.

STOP PRESS! I just had my best ever, most successful lesson. I was awarded a green sticker for my skills and I wanted a pink one and had a complete meltdown. Apparently I was critically acclaimed as being the most dramatic in football since Paul Gazza Gascoigne cried at the 1990 world cup semi finals in Italy as England lost that match to West Germany in penalties, both Stuart Pearce and Chris Waddle missed. Whoever Paul Gazza Gascoigne was like, some dinosaur from the past who Grandad knows.

So as you can see I am a natural.

Think I’ll go and practice sitting on the naughty step, whoops sorry, “The Bench”.

Bye Bye, Ewan.