I'm available for rent

Not like that.

I've supported England a long while now and ever since the first tournament I can remember - the 1982 World Cup - we have succeeded in not winning a single trophy.

I was a Liverpool fan briefly, mainly down to receiving a scratchy hand-me-down jersey and they finished 5th.

The following season my Dad stepped in to convert me to Watford, his team and they were local so it made sense. Naturally, Liverpool went on to win the league that year and for the next two.

Watford, now with the questionable luck of having me as a fan, finished 2nd two seasons running and then lost in the final of the FA Cup. Happier years followed with mid-table mediocrity and then relegation. My work there was done around the same time I was allowed to travel into town by myself:

Wycombe Wanderers were showing promise with a new ground and a young Martin O'Neill cutting his managerial teeth; it was time to ruin their future.  It took me a while to work my magic as the Mighty Blues won the Conference and all three of their trips to Wembley before returning to the happier wide-open arms of misery, disappointment and shouting abuse at the referee. Abuuuuuuuuuuuse. 

And that's how it has remained for twenty years or so. A couple of semi finals provided the contrast necessary to emphasise the comfortably numb pleasure of abject disappointment and failure. Our greatest hour was the final day of the 2013-14 season when a win took us out of the relegation zone for the first time all year. We celebrated like we'd won the World Cup. We were 22nd in the lowest league. Happy days.

Here now is your opportunity to employ me as your rent boy. Not like that. For a fee, I am willing to temporarily support the team of your choosing. Playing France in the next round of the Euros? A couple of hundred króna will see me wearing le coq and Allez-ing les Bleus like there's no demain. 

Worried about the Tour de France hat-trick? Fear not young, Froomey, get me a list of all the other riders and I will support them with a vengeance until you're the only one on the podium in Paris,

Ranked 772 in the world and about to take on the 7-time Wimbledon champion? A few hundred pounds will see me Roger-ing like a good'un, thus guaranteeing you the biggest upset in Wmbledon history and safe passage into round three.

Planning a Blairite coup? Who isn't, these days? Just employ me to get the result you don't want.

Very reasonable hourly rates. Own tissues supplied. Not like that.