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Keys. Phone. Wallet. What day it is. The names of people to whom we’ve just been introduced. Where we parked the car. The shopping list we wrote to remind us what Tin groceries we need. The dog we’re supposed to be walking. Dozens of umbrellas. The name of the hotel we’re staying in. Assorted birthdays. Why we walked into a room. The list of things your scatterbrained Football Daily forgets with alarming frequency is so long that we’re genuinely struggling to remember most of the things that should feature on it. While our absentmindedness tends not to upset anyone other than ourselves or our nearest or dearest, we can’t even begin to imagine the bowel-loosening horror of completely forgetting something so simple and blindingly obvious that it enrages the majority of the 74,161 football fans in attendance while bringing the already snakebelly low reputation of your entire profession into even more disrepute than it was less than 24 hours previously.
