Last time we played Chelsea at Stamford Bridge, it was a rare Saturday 3pm kick-off. The English football authorities and the Holy See don’t coordinate mass times and kick-off times, so I missed my usual Saturday evening mass and turned up on Sunday morning instead. “Hello, Jimmy,” said the priest. “This isn’t your usual mass.” “I know, Father. I was at my other church — Leeds United.” “Oh, splendid. Who were they playing?” “Chelsea.” “Oh, I hate Chelsea!”, the priest replied.

There you go. God says it’s okay to hate Chelsea. I don’t think it’s written into the Catechism of the Catholic Church, not the latest editions anyway, but there it is.

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