I've just got back in from a weird old gig at Gods own club, Manchester City. It's an evening they have called 'Adopt a Player' which at first sounds like a charity and then you realise they're multi-millionaires so don't need adopting, although it did get me thinking it would be pretty cool to have one about the house (for the record I'd adopt Peter Crouch, "here Pete, you couldn't do that lightbulb for me" or "Hey Crouchy, can you clean the leaves out of the guttering, I haven't got a ladder").