“David! David! Daaaaviiiiiid!”

Well, as expected, Becksie got quite the reception when he stepped off the Easyjet from sunny Italy and onto the stark, vivid streets of England’s seventh or eighth finest city. They were all there - women with bright blonde hair, grown men in youthful street gear, someone’s nan in an Elvis Presley wig. Welcome home, David. You have been missed.

Unfortunately for football’s trendiest export, his grand reunion with his old club might yet turn out to be something of a damp squib, with his boss Leonardo (who, by the way, has some remarkable hair of his own) rather hinting that the free kick specialist might have to make do with a seat on the bench - quite probably next to an eggy-faced Flamini, and a snarling puppy called Gattuso. 

The AC Milan boss said this:

“When we saw the draw, we knew it would be an unbelievable situation for him.”

“But, knowing David, and his attitude, I am sure he can cope.”

“Independent of that, he is very important for the group as a whole and we are always grateful for his presence.”

Hmmm, “his presence”, huh? No need to read between the lines on that one.

Or is there?