Having suffered the indignity of being dumped - usurped, you might say - from my long reign at the top, the peak, the summit, the acme, the pinnacle of my Fantasy Football League by the multiple goal scoring feats of bearded Scouse homunculus Wayne Rooney, I was looking for some solace in Dara O'Briain's thoughts on him. ("That's not the face of a major footballing star, that's a minor hurler from Offaly who got lucky. Look at the way the sunlight dances off his ears. Hear the wind whistle through his teeth - it says whhhhayne..." and so on.)
Couldn't find it, though, so I shall content myself with the reason I went past this notable English tourist attraction on the train last year and, travelling alone, burst out laughing in public merely at seeing the sign.